Be Mine

62. Pehli Rosai 💝

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A K R I T I

When he pulled out a lacy bra, I raised an eyebrow at him. "Really, Aditya? You think this is the time for lace?"

He smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You’re my wife now. I get to choose what you wear underneath." He held up the bra like it was some kind of trophy, adding with a wink, "And this one is my favorite." 

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. He helped me into the bra, his touch both gentle and teasing. His fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary, and when he finally clasped it, he let out a satisfied hum. 

Next, he picked out a pair of soft cotton shorts and one of his oversized T-shirts. "These are comfortable, right?" he asked, holding them up for my approval. 

I nodded, smiling at his thoughtfulness, even if he had indulged himself with the lingerie. He knelt to help me into the shorts, his hands grazing my thighs as he pulled them up carefully. Then he slipped the T-shirt over my head, adjusting it so it fell just right. 

"Perfect," he said, stepping back to admire his work. 

"Your turn now," I said, folding my arms and giving him a mock stern look. 

He chuckled and pulled on a pair of grey tracks, pairing them with a fitted black T-shirt that hugged his broad chest. His damp hair fell messily over his forehead, making him look effortlessly handsome. 

Once we were both dressed, he guided me to the bed and made me lie down. He brought out the ointment he’d mentioned earlier, carefully applying it to the sore spots on my thighs and hips. His touch was soothing, his fingers working with just the right amount of pressure to ease the discomfort. 

"Better?" he asked after a few moments, his eyes scanning my face for any sign of pain. 

"Much better," I replied, feeling the soreness gradually give way to relief. 

"Good," he said, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. "Now rest for a bit. I’ll be right here." 

He helped me settle into a comfortable position, placing a book in my hands before moving to his desk. As I got lost in the pages, I could hear the soft clicks of his laptop keyboard as he worked. 

The atmosphere was peaceful—him immersed in his work, and me in my book, the quiet companionship between us filling the room with warmth.

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Two hours later, as I stretched and adjusted myself on the bed, feeling significantly better, I turned to Aditya. "Adi, I’m fine now. We can go downstairs. Everyone must be waiting for us."

Aditya glanced at me with a soft smile, his gaze lingering for a second longer than usual. "As you say, wifey." He chuckled, taking my hand as he helped me sit up. "Mom kept a red saree for you to wear. Let’s get you dressed."

He guided me towards the wardrobe where the beautiful saree lay waiting. It was a stunning shade of red with intricate golden embroidery, the kind that made me feel both elegant and adored. Aditya’s hands were gentle as he helped me drape the saree, the familiar, tender touch of his fingers brushing against my skin sending a shiver down my spine. Once I was dressed, he fixed my hair, his eyes lingering on me as though he couldn’t believe I was his.

Finally, we both made our way downstairs, hand in hand, walking down the stairs towards the dining area where everyone was already seated at the table.

"Good morning, dad and mom," Aditya said cheerfully, his voice bright as he walked in with me by his side.