"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...
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After locking the window of his sister’s bedroom, Vedant finally made his way to his own room, exhaustion clinging to him after a long, draining day.
His movements were quiet, as he unlocked the door with care. He already knew his wife would be asleep by now, and he had no intention of disturbing that fragile peace.
The moment he stepped inside, his gaze fell upon Shivya. She was fast asleep on the couch, a book resting against her chest, her fingers loosely curled around it as if she had drifted off mid-sentence. Her phone lay abandoned on the floor beside the couch. He quietly shut the door behind him.
“Itna bada bed hai, phir bhi madam couch pe hi soyengi,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in mild disbelief.
He bent down and picked up her phone, noticing a few unread notifications lighting up the screen. Without sparing them a second glance, he placed the phone neatly at the corner of the bed.
Then, stepping closer to her, he carefully slid the book out of her hands, making sure not to brush against her skin.
Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out his debit card and gently slipped it between the pages as a makeshift bookmark, having nothing else on hand. He placed the book on the bedside table with equal care.
After that, he picked up all of pillows from the bed and arranged them on the floor near the couch, ensuring she wouldn’t hurt herself if she accidentally rolled off in her sleep.
He unfastened his wristwatch and walked toward the vanity to set it down, but paused when he noticed the state of it. Her nuptial chain lay carelessly tossed aside, and her gold bangles were scattered across the surface, one even lying on the floor. The entire vanity was cluttered with her belongings.
For a moment, he glanced back at her sleeping form. Then, with a quiet sigh, he bent down to pick up the fallen bangle. Taking a few minutes, he cleaned the vanity and arranged everything neatly, placing each item back in order.
Once he was done, he set his phone and wallet beside them. Without another word, he turned and headed toward the bathroom to take a bath.
Vedant walked out of the bathroom, rubbing his wet hair with a towel, but halted mid-step when he saw his wife sitting on the couch, her face buried in her hands.
“Sona,” he called softly.
She didn’t lift her head to look at him. Instead, she exhaled slowly, then leaned forward to pick up the pillows from the floor. Without saying a word, she placed them back on the bed.
“Aap theek hain?” he asked, but was met with silence. After a brief pause, he added, “Aap poochengi nahi ki takiye zameen par kaise aaye?”
This time, she responded, her voice calm yet edged with something unreadable. “Koi jaadu se toh nahi aaye honge. Aur koi bahar wala bhi nahi aaya tha yahan. Is kamre mein sirf hum dono rehte hain. Agar maine nahi kiya, toh obviously aapne hi kiya hoga.”
