15 ~ Her jealousy, His kiss #2
Instead of answering, she picked up a neatly folded stack of clothes and placed them in my hands.
"Yeh apni jijaji ko de aao."
(Take these clothes to your brother-in-law.)
I blinked.
"...Kya?"
(What?)
"Woh upar guest room mein hai."
(He's upstairs in the guest room.)
For a second, I simply stared at her. Then I let out an incredulous laugh. "Main kyun jaun?" I pushed the clothes back toward her. "Aap de dijiye. Ya Didi ko bhej dijiye. Mujhe neend aa rahi hai."
(Why should I go? You give them to him. Or send Didi. I'm sleepy.)
Mumma clicked her tongue.
"Woh so gayi hai. Tumhari tarah der raat tak ghoomti nahi rehti. Aur mujhe bohot kaam hai."
(She has already gone to sleep. Unlike you, she doesn't roam around till late at night. And I have a lot of work to do.)
I crossed my arms.
Annoyance bubbled inside me. "Mumma..."
"Chup-chaap jao." Her tone hardened. "Aur kapde dekar aao. Abhi."
(Go quietly and give him these clothes. Right now.)
I knew that tone. There was no arguing with it.
Defeated, I snatched the clothes back. "Theek hai."
(Fine.)
I reluctantly climbed the stairs. Every step felt heavier than the last.
Just give him the clothes and leave.
Don't even look at him.
Simple.
I reached the guest room.
The door was slightly open. I knocked lightly.
No response.
I peeked inside. The room looked empty. "H-hello...?"
Thinking he might be in the washroom, I stepped inside.
The next second I heard his voice, "I'll review the documents tomorrow."
He was on the phone shirtless.
His back was to me, broad and muscular, golden skin stretched taut over powerful shoulders. Water droplets still clung to his skin, glistening in the dim light. His hair was wet.
My breath caught in my throat.
He turned and our eyes met.
He said something into the phone. "I'll call you back." And then he ended the call.
"Ye aapke liye kapde..." I managed, my voice barely a whisper.
(These are clothes for you...)
He didn't look at the clothes.
I placed his clothes on the bed and began to leave hurriedly when he held my wrist.
I gasped and looked at him. Not again!
He came towards me and now I could feel the heat radiating from his skin. I could smell him...that familiar scent of rain and something darker, something uniquely him.
"Kartik..." I tried to remove his grip but instead he began to come closer.
I stood some steps back and my back hit the wall.
His hands came up, bracing against the wall on either side of my head. He had me trapped, caged me between his arms.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"Koi aa jayegaa. please..."
(Someone will come. please...)
"Do you think I care?"
His voice was a growl. Low, rough, barely controlled.
He leaned closer.
I clenched my eyes closed.
My hand came up to his chest.
I hadn't meant to. It just happened. My palm pressed against his bare skin, warm and solid beneath my fingers. I could feel his heartbeat...fast, erratic, matching my own.
He looked down at my hand and then back at my face.
And something in his expression shifted.
"Chahat," he breathed.
His hand came up to cover mine. His fingers intertwined with mine, pressing my palm more firmly against his chest.
"Kartik please..." I said softly, barely above a whisper. "If someone sees us..."
He took some steps back and then took the shirt I bought from him and began to wear it.
I didn't wait another second.
The moment he stepped back, I slipped past him, almost stumbling in my hurry.
I didn't dare look back.
I practically ran through the corridor, my bare feet echoing against the marble floor as I rushed into my room.
The door clicked shut behind me.
I leaned against it, pressing a trembling hand over my chest.
My heart was beating so fast that I could hear it in my ears.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
"What is wrong with me..." I whispered, trying to steady my breathing.
I could still feel the warmth of his hand around my wrist. The way he'd looked at me. The way his lips felt against mine.
Everything replayed in my mind with unbearable clarity.
I shook my head vigorously.
"No. This is wrong. So wrong Chahat so wrong."
I wasn't thinking about him.
Needing air, I walked to the balcony.
The cool night breeze brushed against my heated face.
I rested my palms on the railing and looked down.
The front porch was brightly lit.
Kartik had come downstairs.
He was speaking to Mumma before leaving.
From this distance, I couldn't hear their conversation.
Mumma smiled politely while saying something, and he responded with a small nod.
Then he looked up straight at me as if sensing my gaze.
My breath caught.
For one suspended moment, neither of us looked away.
The lights from the porch softened the sharpness of his features, but they couldn't soften the intensity of his gaze.
It held mine effortlessly.
I forgot to breathe.
Then, without a word, he broke eye contact. He turned, opened the driver's door of his car, and slid inside.
A second later, the engine roared to life.
I stood there, watching as the black car rolled out through the gates.
Its taillights grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared into the darkness.
Only then did I realize...
My heart still hasn't slowed down.
I laid down but I couldn't sleep the whole night.
I was staring at the ceiling, my lips still burning from his kiss. My skin still tingling where he'd touched me. My heart still racing like he was still there, still pressed against me, still whispering my name like a prayer.
I pressed my palms to my eyes, trying to block out the memory.
But nothing worked.
Because he was everywhere. In the darkness of my room. In the silence of the night. In the beat of my own heart.
.
.
.
The morning came too quickly.
Sunlight streamed through my curtains, harsh and unforgiving. I heard the sounds, Mumma's voice calling out orders, the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen.
I heard the sounds of preparation.
"Chahat, jaldi aao! Trial ke liye late ho raha hai!"
(Chahat, come quickly! We're getting late for the trial!)
"Mujhe saans lene ka time milega ya nahi?"
(Will I even get time to breathe or not?)
From boutiques to tailors.
From markets to home.
From one function preparation to another.
It felt endless.
The days blurred together.
The house transformed overnight. Marigold flowers appeared everywhere, their sweet scent filling every room.
Decorators came and went, hanging fairy lights and draping fabric.
The sound of laughter and chatter echoed through the halls as relatives arrived, their excited voices a constant reminder of what was about to happen.
Every time I saw Mukti, my heart ached. She was happy now...truly happy. Her smile was genuine, her laughter bright. She flitted around the house like a butterfly, her excitement contagious to everyone around her.
I didn't even realize when two weeks passed.
Two weeks. Gone. Just like that.
The thought alone made my chest feel tight.
Then came the day of the haldi.
The house was chaotic. Women rushed around with trays of turmeric paste, their laughter echoing through the halls. Music blared from speakers, filling every corner with the sound of celebration.
I stood in front of the mirror in my room.
Staring at myself.
I was wearing a yellow saree with mirror work, bright and beautiful, the color of sunshine and celebration. The fabric shimmered in the light, delicate thread work and embroidery catching every ray.
My reflection stared back at me, and I barely recognized myself.
I was trying to smile but inside, I was falling apart.
A knock on my door made me jump.
"Chahat! Jaldi karo! Haldi shuru hone wali hai!"
(Hurry up! The haldi is about to start!)
My mother stood there, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. Her expression softened.
"Bohot sundar lag rahi ho." She kissed my forehead. She looked at my face, "Kya baat hai, Chahat?" she asked gently. "Tum theek ho?"
(You're looking very beautiful. What's wrong Chahat? Are you okay?)
No. I'm not okay. I'm falling apart and no one can see it.
"Haan, Mumma," I said, my voice steady. "Bas... thoda tired hoon."
(Yess Mumma...Just a little tired.)
She patted my cheek. "Chinta mat karo. Haldi ke baad aaram kar lena."
(Don't worry. You can rest after the haldi.)
I nodded and I followed her downstairs.
The haldi ceremony was in full swing when I arrived.
The courtyard was transformed yellow and gold everywhere, flowers cascading from every surface. The women of the family were gathered around Mukti di, laughing and singing as they applied turmeric paste to her skin.
She was radiant.