YOU NEVER WALK ALONE

42-Dancing session

Guess what? Another long chapter 😭
Not translated!!

RASHVIK'S POV-

"Good night, Mrs. Singh," I murmured, the words slipping out of my mouth before I could even comprehend, let alone stop myself.

Wait. Why did I even feel the need to stop? She is Mrs. Singh. We're married. That's an undeniable fact.

I sighed, sinking deeper into the covers as my mind started its usual chaotic spiral. Shut up, idiot. What are you even thinking? I mentally scolded myself, trying to tame the swirling thoughts. But it wasn't working.

Goddammit, just admit that you've already accepted her as your wife. This time my thoughts scolded me. And, as much as I wanted to deny it, they weren't wrong. Deep down, I had already accepted it. Okay, fine, I resisted at first. I pushed the idea away as hard as I could. But no matter how much I tried, the reality is what it is. She is my wife. We're going to spend the rest of our lives together, whether I'm ready for it or not.

Oddly enough, that realization didn't feel as suffocating as it used to. In fact, it brought a faint smile to my face. I shook my head, pulling the blanket higher. I know i'm convinced that she's different. She's not like others. But my heart—it's still hesitant, unsure, scared to take any chance and open up again.

I'm not saying she's the problem. If anything, she's perfect—too perfect. It's me. I'm the mess. And maybe, just maybe, I need more time to untangle the knot of fear and confusion in my chest.

Does she have feelings for me? Maybe. On my side, though, it feels... neutral. Or so I tell myself. Yet, even as I denied it, a strange wave of sadness washed over me. Why did the idea of not feeling anything for her sting so much?

I closed my eyes, pushing the thoughts away, but it was impossible. The image of her lingered. My mind is a total mess, i don't know why i'm thinking about all this but i just can't help thinking about her.....abput our relationship.

But the mess in mind turned into a calm and soothing feeling as my eyes landed on her, sleeping peacefully, curled up like a small cat, face relaxed and hair messy. She looks so small!

'Chotu for a reason!!' my smile grew at the thought. The nickname suits her perfectly. I chuckled quietly, imagining how she'd react if I called her that out loud. She'd probably huff, cross her arms, and glare at me, her cheeks puffing up in that adorable way she does when she's pretending to be mad.

But beneath her petite frame and childlike demeanor, she's anything but small. She's one of the most mature and understanding people I've ever met. Her perspective on life, her strength—especially at such a young age—sometimes leaves me speechless.

It's strange, really. Sometimes, she reminds me of Prachi Bhabhi. The way they think, their clarity of opinions, their ability to make you feel heard—it's uncanny.

As I watched her, a strange calm settled over me, replacing the storm that had been raging in my mind. She wasn't just different from others; she was different from everyone I had ever known.

And maybe, just maybe, that's exactly what I need.

Even though so much happened today, I don't feel even a hint of the heaviness I'm usually used to in situations like this. I'm not sad. I'm not overwhelmed or alone. For the first time in a long while, I feel free and happy, even. It's almost as if a huge weight has been lifted off my chest, and it's all thanks to her.

Relief washes over me as I think about it. I feel so at ease, so calm, having shared everything with her. I'm glad she listened to me. No, it wasn't just that she listened—it was the way she handled everything. She handled me. She didn't rush me or make me feel judged. She just encouraged me to open up, to let it all out.