Her Deviant Husband | [✓]

Wedding Arc (2)

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The moment I stepped into my family mansion, a quiet calm settled over me like an old, familiar blanket. It was almost instinctual—like my body exhaled before I even realized I'd been holding my breath. The scent hit me first: a comforting mix of sandalwood, old books, and polished teak—earthy and rich, like the legacy of generations woven into the walls. It clung to the air, layered with the soft elegance of modern furniture that Reyansh had insisted on when we redecorated after our wedding. Clean lines met antique corners. History kissed with our present.

My suitcase rolled in behind me with a soft click against the marble floor. Greece had been a dream. It still clung to my skin—the salt from the Aegean, the sunshine in my hair, and the lingering heat of his hands on my body. Blue skies and whitewashed walls flashed behind my eyes. Winding alleys that led to nowhere and everywhere. Stolen kisses under the stars. My fingers curling into his hair as his mouth claimed mine like we hadn't kissed in years, not hours. Our nights had blurred together—long, breathless, addictive. We were never apart for long. Not truly.

That was the thing about Reyansh and me. We were... magnetic. Incendiary.
Entirely incapable of keeping our hands to ourselves.

Even now—two years of marriage, a hundred quiet moments, a thousand loud ones—we still heard the same teasing remark- You two still haven't left the honeymoon phase, have you?

They weren't wrong.

But I wasn't sure I ever wanted to leave it. Reyansh made it impossible.

He was all sharp edges with eyes that could slice through a man's soul.

But with me? Those same eyes softened in a way that undid me every single time.

No one else had ever seen it. No one else ever would.

There was a sweetness he saved only for me.

Hidden beneath the scars, and the shadows. A quiet devotion threaded through his every touch. Sometimes I caught him looking at me like I was the only thing that kept him alive in this world.