The Workaholic Wife ✅

Getting over the worst

The next day was chaos. We woke really early but Mayma and Kanya were adamant on packing our clothes. I wasn't too thrilled, but Aniket was bouncing on his toes, overcome with excitement.

He thought they would pick a good choice of clothing— correction, revealing clothing—that he overacted. However, when he saw the flowered shirts they packed him, his obnoxious smirk turned into a frown, which made me bellow in laughter.

"Shut up. Now I actually have a excuse to run naked," He states, his smirk reappearing.

"Mayma, why do you even try with this guy? When I met him, he was so shy, he wouldn't even let another person see him half-naked without my permission. Now, he's trying to seduce me."

"Well, your roles should be switched. You should be the one seducing him, and he should be the one giving in to you. But, seeing how you're the dominant of your relationship, we have to do our best," she says, throwing in a especially revealing set of my underclothes.

"When did you people even buy this stuff for me? And how do you know my size?" I ask, blushing at thought Mayma going to those types of stores.

"Aniket shopped them for you online." I glare at Aniket, who puts his hands up in surrender.

"This is so embarrassing." I groan and fall back on the bed. "I mean, when the heck did you measure me?"

"I measured you with my hands, baby." He says, chuckling, and putting up his weird hands on display.

I stare at his hands for a few minutes. Why am I so afraid of those hands of his? Of course, every part of him is beautiful. He has a perfect body, as if he sculpted it in my preference all his life. However, whenever I see his hands on my body or see his hands at all, I get nervous.

It's a physiological barrier that I have to come across with him; afterwards, we would be forever together.

Seeing that I want lots of children, this little issue of mine, has to go. The only way to do that, is by getting to know him, inside and out. I blush again, thinking about his body.

I was brought back to focus, by Anikets' kiss on my cheek. This time, I welcome the kiss, but distance myself before the pair of devils in the closet could see us.

"You know," Kanya teases, "it's disgusting seeing you people make out in front of us. Go get a room."

"Shut up, Kanya. You are in my room. And I have every right to kiss my wife. Where ever and whenever I want." I glare at him when he says the last part. "With her permission, of course," he murmurs, laughing.

"That's so disgusting! I hope I never run into those preposterous feelings."

"It's called love," Mayma says. "You don't want to be in love, Kanya?"

"Ew, that's for suckers. I'd rather die than declare that I would die for them out of love."

"It's alright." I reassure her. "It's the same way I was thinking of love, when I first met him," I say poking Aniket on the chest. He jerks like he's been hit with lightning, and runs his hands over his chest, pouting at me cutely.

"Shut up, you're fine. Don't overreact."

"Wow, I'm feeling the love," Aniket jokes.

Mayma and Kanya laugh and I put my head in my hands, blocking out their laughter.

"Mayma, can I talk to you?"

"Sure, dear."

"I meant, privately."

"Oh," she says, looking at Kanya and Aniket.

Once they leave, I tell her about my medical condition, making her promise that she wouldn't tell my mother.