𝑨𝑵𝑰𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑨: 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐞 - Yours With All My Heart

{71}•ᴍᴀʀʀʏ ᴍᴇ•

BONDITA

Everything in my life feels perfect, almost like a dream I never imagined I would have. My husband, my work, my home—everything is falling into place so beautifully that I can’t help but feel overwhelmed with happiness. It’s like I’m living the most wonderful life, a life I once thought was out of my reach.

Anirudh... oh, where do I even begin? He is not just my husband; he is my best friend, my protector, my everything. Every little thing he does, from the way he looks at me with so much love to the way he takes care of me, makes my heart swell with joy. I never thought I would have someone like him in my life, someone who cherishes me so deeply.

And my periods? I never imagined I would actually feel this happy and carefree even during those days. Anirudh takes care of me so well, making sure I’m comfortable, pampered, and never feeling the slightest discomfort. He makes me feel so loved, so cherished, that I actually find myself looking forward to my next cycle—just to experience his care all over again! It’s silly, I know, but that’s how incredibly wonderful he is.

Life with him is nothing short of a fairytale, one I never want to wake up from.

The soft glow of the kitchen light bathed the room in warmth as I worked, kneading the dough with steady hands. The silence of the early morning made the moment even more peaceful, the only sounds being the rhythmic press of my fingers into the flour and the gentle bubbling of the tea on the stove. The air was thick with the inviting aroma of ghee and spices, the scent of golden, crisping aloo parathas filling the space.

I had missed this—the simple joy of cooking, of pouring love into a meal meant for my family. The case had taken up all my time, and now that we had won, I wanted to celebrate by making something special for them. I had already prepared the filling for the parathas, the mashed potatoes infused with fresh coriander, green chilies, and just the right amount of spices. A bowl of cool, creamy curd sat on the counter, waiting to be paired with the hot parathas. The tea was brewing to perfection, rich and aromatic, and I had even planned to make suji halwa—a sweet treat for everyone to start the day with.

Just as I was about to roll out another paratha, I felt it—a slow, lazy touch grazing over my stomach, fingers slipping under the soft fabric of my light blue saree’s dupatta. A warm shiver ran down my spine as I stilled for a moment, my breath catching when I felt his body press lightly against my back.

A deep, sleepy murmur followed, his voice rough and husky, still heavy with sleep. "Hmmm… what are you doing here, butterfly?" His words were slow, dragging, filled with warmth and something else—something dangerously intoxicating.

I swallowed hard, my fingers unconsciously squeezing the soft dough beneath them. The way he sounded—oh god, his voice—so deep, so lazy, so utterly sexy…

I exhaled shakily before responding, my voice a little uneven as I tried to focus. "Well… I wanted to surprise everyone," I admitted softly, pressing my fingers into the dough again. "I hadn’t cooked in ages, and now that the case is over, I thought…"

I trailed off when I felt him lean in closer, the weight of his head resting against my shoulder. His breath fanned over my neck, warm and teasing, sending another wave of shivers down my spine. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, my heartbeat stuttering at what I saw.

His eyes were still closed, his expression relaxed, soft, so cute… The contrast of his usual sharp, commanding presence with this tender, sleepy version of him made my stomach flutter in the most ridiculous way.

He looked like he had just wandered straight out of a dream—my dream.

I carefully rolled the soft dough, shaping it into a perfect round roti as the warmth of the stove flickered against my skin. The kitchen was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly made parathas, ghee sizzling as it kissed the hot pan. Everything was going exactly as I had planned—well, almost.