"Happy Married Life, Shivya Pathak" I weakly smiled seeing my condition, mangalsutra dangling in my neck, vermilion in hair and both hands filled with gold bangles.
"Come out quickly or do you want me to break the gate," my husband knocked again...
I’ve noticed that only about 8–10 people actually comment on chapters. Creating content and writing chapters that are more than 4k words takes a lot of time and effort. A vote, or comment only takes a few seconds, but it means a lot to an author. I usually don’t say anything because I don’t want to sound like I’m begging for engagement. I know every author has different engagement levels and I respect that. But it does get discouraging when there is almost no interaction but it’s honestly frustrating to see complaints about “short chapters” when the same people can’t even take a moment to engage. If you enjoy the story, please support it. It doesn’t take your whole day, but it motivates me to keep writing.
Also, please stop spamming the comments on chapters just to complete the target. Because of that, I often miss genuine comments from readers who actually want to share their thoughts, and it becomes really frustrating.
From now on, I’m not going to keep any targets because there’s no point. I will update chapters whenever I want, because I can do whatever I want as well just like you guys. Feel free to unfollow or leave hate comments; I honestly don’t care.
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Shivya blinked once, then twice, and then a third time, still lying on top of him. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. The way he was looking into her eyes made her strangely nervous, as if the world around them had suddenly grown too quiet.
Instead of loosening her grip on his wrist, she tightened it. At the same moment, a soft gust of wind blew across them, pushing loose strands of her hair over his face. For a second, the strands brushed against his cheek and lips.
Shivya tried to move away, but her body refused to cooperate no matter how hard she tried. She was nervous, but not the kind of nervousness that made her break into a cold sweat.
Instead, a strange tingling sensation ran through her body-especially in the places where his hand was in contact with her skin. It felt unfamiliar, confusing, yet oddly comforting.
"Vedant," she whispered slowly, pushing the strands of hair away from her face while giving him a nervous smile.
He simply hummed in response, still lost somewhere in his own thoughts, as if he had forgotten that she was even speaking to him.
"Kya soch rahe hain aap?" she asked softly.
"I want to stay like this forever," he murmured absentmindedly. "You smell so good that I think I've forgotten how normal breathing works. At this point, I'm pretty sure my lungs have decided they prefer inhaling you instead of oxygen."
He said it in such a dazed tone that he didn't even realize what he had just confessed out loud. Shivya's eyes widened instantly, as if she had just seen a ghost.
She quickly tried to get up from him, and his hand slipped away from her waist the moment he realized what he had said. "I... I mean-Oh fuck... sorry, Sona," he stammered, completely flustered.
