An Indian arranged marriage love story.
Like my first one this one has a new challenge. This girl here is different. Another gleaming image of confidence with sass in compliment.
Sadhvi was to marry someone else, Avrudh wasn't in the picture to beg...
'Kidnap me from my reality and crushed pieces of my soul color me outside the lines until my shattered heart is whole' -perry poetry
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The beating explained
Sadhvi’s POV
We were making our way back to the farmhouse when I felt my stomach lurch the first time.
I ignored it.
“You have space for dinner?” I asked him looking at my wrist watch, it was eight forty and by nine I suppose we will be home.
“Not even a bit. You still hungry?” he asked looking at me. The bags in his hands rubbed together making plastic-y sound.
With the shake of my head incredulously I said, “You kidding? Dahi bhalle, jalebi, milk and then another round of sweet corn, how can you expect me to have more space left?”
He laughed saying, “That is because I ate most of it, you were just pecking like a bird”
I hit him on the arm without a second thought and when I realized what I just did, I looked at him in horror.
“I am so sorry. I promise I'm no violent person that was purely my...”
Avrudh looked at me with a straight arrogant face and said, “You fractured me!”
I deadpanned looked at him, “You are so funny Avrudh that I might kiss you right now”
He bent his head to my level saying, “Then why don’t you?”
I looked him in the eyes replying, “Because kissing assholes is so old fashion”
Avrudh gasped dramatically keeping his hand that was carrying one of the three shopping bags on his heart.
“I am so going to complain about you abusing me to your mom.”
I laughed, “What are you? Five?”
“Says who?”
“Says the toddlers wife!” i said keeping my hands on my hip
“Hahhh” he shot back on my face
I mimicked making a dying rat’s sound and resumed this time downhill walking.
A laughing Avrudh trailed behind.
.
We arrived at the house in the night when my phone rang displaying my father’s contact details.
It was his regular time of calling me, to check upon me, few habits never change. Just like I am used to of informing about my whereabouts he is used to of asking me when I will be home.
