𝐄𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ~𝑨 𝑯𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚
•⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆𐙚
𝐕𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐀𝐍 ♡ 𝐑𝐔𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐀
Ruhanika, a quiet introvert with a passion for books and study. She thrives in the world of words, finding solace in...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
In the entire 27 years of my existence, I had never been this irritated.
And what made it worse was the fact that I loved this irritation.
A lot.
I stared at my phone like it had personally betrayed me, my thumb hovering uselessly over the screen while my brain struggled to accept the tragedy in front of me.
61 missed calls.
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Still sixty one.
All because I had committed the gravest crime known to marriage, yes, forgetting to update my husband about what I ate, when I ate, how much water I drank, and how much oxygen i inhaled.
At this point, I was genuinely waiting for him to ask for my blood pressure and pulse rate report every thirty minutes.
A soft laugh slipped out, helpless and traitorous, the kind that always ruined my attempts to stay annoyed with him. I shook my head, placed the patient file aside, and finally called him back.
He answered on the first ring.
"Ruhanika."
Just my name.
My eyebrow lifted on its own.
Ah.
That tone.
This was not a sweet husband call.
This was a full disciplinary meeting aka Lecture call.
"Vihaan," I replied, carefully sweetening my voice, pouring honey into his name to melt his anger.
If there was one thing I was excellent at, it was distracting my husband.
"No," he shut it down immediately. "Do not do that. I am not falling for your tricks anymore. Listen to me properly. I am very serious right now."
I leaned back in my chair, eyes closing briefly as if bracing myself for impact. I nodded even though he could not see me.
"When are you going to learn to eat on time and take care of yourself?" he continued, frustration slipping through his calm voice. "You are a doctor, Ruhanika. A grown woman. Yet you behave like a toddler who refuses to eat. Aarvi eats properly and she is just two years old."
Seriously? Did he just compare me with a two year old.
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but he did not even pause.
"And do not you dare mimic my tone."
I rolled my eyes so hard I was sure my brain cells felt it. And yet i did mimic his tone.
"Vihaan," I said patiently, "I did eat. I was just busy. OPD was-"
"You always say that," he interrupted. "Busy does not mean skipping meals. You are pregnant. You do not get to ignore your body anymore. It can affect you and the baby. And i can't bear if anything happens to both of you."
