28
RUDRAKSH
I blink open my eyes and wonder what woke me up.
The sound of soft sobbing pulls me from sleep.
I reach out instinctively for Shivani, but the space beside me is empty.
My heart lurches as I see light spilling in from the balcony.
I get up quickly, hastily, as I walk towards it.
Worry churns my stomach. What is it that woke her up in the middle of the night?
There she is—wrapped in a blanket, her shoulders trembling as she cries. My chest tightens at the sight. She looks small and fragile. Her hair is a mess, tumbling around her face, hiding tear-streaked cheeks. I rush to her side, my steps padding against the floor.
“Hey, what happened, darling? Why are you crying?” I turn her gently to face me, and what greets me is her red face and eyes full of tears.
She looks up, managing a weak smile. Tears shine in her eyes as she looks at me, her eyes full of worry. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” she asks softly, her words cracking as she looks at me.
She’s been crying out here, in the cold, for who knows how long—and she’s worried about my sleep.
“I don’t care about my sleep,” I tell her firmly, pulling her into my arms and wrapping the blanket tighter around her.
“You matter more.”
She shivers slightly against me, her body still trembling as she clings to me. I can't bear seeing her like this—so upset, so broken.
“What’s wrong, baby? Tell me,” I murmur, brushing her hair back from her face, urging her to tell me, What is it that made her cry?
“It’s nothing. Really?” she replies, biting her lip. She’s clearly trying to downplay it, hesitant about the situation, but I need to know—for her sake and mine. For the sake of my sanity.
“Come on, let’s go inside. Are you cold?” I tighten the blanket around her, and she shakes her head positively.
I guide her back to the bedroom, slowly, closing the balcony door behind us. Carefully, I make her sit on the bed and take her hand in mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Okay. Now, tell me what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours.” She looks down and twists the wedding ring; my hands curl around her hand, and I trace random patterns on the back of her palm to calm her down.
She stays quiet for a moment before whispering, “I just got my period.”
I freeze for a second. Panic sets in. Then comes the train of questions, one by one.
“Are you in pain? Is it cramps? Or hormonal stuff? Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.” She places a finger on my lips, cutting me off, then giggles. Her eyes glinting with a smile as she stares at me.
“You’re cute,” she says, eyes twinkling through the tears, and I don’t know how to react to that.
Heat creeps up my neck, and red covers me; she notices it. The absolute effect she has on me. Her eyes widen as she gasps, covering her face with her palms, “Are you blushing, Mr. Malhotra?”
When I don’t answer, she tugs playfully at my cheek. “You really are very cute,” she says again, grinning. A whole wide grin.
I’m stunned. No one’s ever had this effect on me. “I... I’m not blushing,” I deny, my words coming out hoarse.
She just shakes her head, clearly enjoying this. Then, out of nowhere, she wraps her arms around my torso in a tight hug. Okay—mood swings? Hormones? Whatever it is, I’m not complaining.
“Why were you crying, darling?” I ask, holding her close, giving her a tight but gentle squeeze.
She sighs, her head against my cheek. “I was craving paneer tikka.”
I blink, my arms freezing around her curves. “Wait... you were crying because you were craving paneer tikka?”
She nods solemnly, still leaning on my chest. “Yeah. I really wanted some.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “You could’ve just woken me up. I’d have made it for you.”
Her head jerks up, eyes wide, like I said something absurd. “You cook?” she asks, disbelief clearly plastered all over her face.
“I’m a good cook, Shivani. I can prove it.” I wink at her, my lips crooking into a wide smile. Before she can respond, I stand and pull her up with me, our fingers laced.
“Rudraksh, it’s okay. I can eat it tomorrow. Let’s sleep,” she tries to protest. But I lean in, stopping just where our noses touch. Her eyes flutter shut.
“Darling,” I whisper, voice thick, “My wife gets what she wants. When she wants it.” If I stay this close a second longer, I’ll lose all control. So, I step back, flexing my shoulders.
“Breathe, baby,” I tell her, my voice coming out thick as a small smirk sticks to my face. She gasps softly, clearly affected.
“I...” she stammers, lost for words.
I laugh gently, loving the flustered look on her face.
So cute.
“No buts, biwi ji . You want paneer tikka, and you’re going to get it. No arguments.”
Still holding her hand, I lead her to the kitchen. She follows without a word, cheeks glowing red. Once there, I gesture for her to sit at the island counter.
“Sit here, I’m going to make you the best damn paneer tikka you’ve ever had.”
“Do you like it spicy or mild?” I ask, already pulling out ingredients.
“Spicy. Always,” she replies absentmindedly, still watching me like I’m doing magic. As I marinate the paneer and prep the skewers, I can feel her gaze on me. Her eyes are wide, full of fascination. She bites her lip as I move efficiently, her focus almost too intense. I glance at her and smirk.
“Should I make the paneer tikka, or should I worry you’re about to eat me instead?” She blinks, startled, then blushes furiously. Red covering her, flushing her cheeks.
“W-what?” She stammers, flustered, and turns away from me. Her head slightly tilting as she hides that small smile of hers.
I chuckle, loving the way she reacts. “I asked if you’re watching me make food or just planning to devour me with your eyes.”
Her mouth opens and shuts, and finally, she narrows her eyes at me.
“You like teasing me, don’t you?” She states the obvious and then huffs aloud. While still narrowing her eyes, she crosses her arms under her chest, unaware of how the motion draws my eyes for a second too long. Shit. Look away, Malhotra. Stop being a pervert.
“I love it,” I grin. Reaching out, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I love how quickly you blush, the way your lips part in surprise, how your eyes flit away when I catch you staring... I enjoy every bit of it.” Her breath hitches, her cheeks going even redder.
She doesn’t meet my eyes; instead, she avoids it, her arms still crossed, chest rising and falling rapidly.
I lean in closer, my chest nearly brushing hers. My fingers trail lightly over her ear before I pinch her nose playfully and pull back.
“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” I murmur with a crooked smile forming on my face.
A few minutes later, I walk over to her with a plate of spicy paneer tikka. I just finished preparing for her. “Here we go. Try this, baby.”
I offer her a piece, and she takes a tentative bite. A beat passes as she stares at me, chewing slowly, and then her eyes go wide in delight, a soft moan escaping her lips.
“Oh god, it’s so good,” she sighs, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure.
“Told you I could cook.” A grin takes over my face as I watch her eating it with delight.
She reaches for another piece but pauses. Her hand hovers over the plate, then drops to her lap.
She’s gone quiet again. I look at her face, and I know—she’s thinking about her body.
About weight. About guilt. Quietly, I take her hand in mine.
“Nope. You won’t gain weight from eating a few pieces of paneer tikka,” I say gently, my fingers brushing on the back of her thumb, and I assure her with everything I have got in me.
She looks up at me, eyes shimmering. Silently, she squeezes my hand and finally takes another bite.
I don’t even like paneer tikka—it’s spicy and not my thing.
But if this is what makes her feel comfortable enough to eat, I’d eat it every day.
I’d drink the damn marinade if it helped.
Her eyes soften as she watches me eat with her.
There’s a quiet kind of gratitude in her gaze.
She’s opening up, bit by bit. And I know there’s still so much about her I don’t know, still walls to break through. But at this moment, I feel like I’ve earned a piece of her trust.
And I’ll always be there to hold her through every vulnerable moment that follows. She leans her head against my shoulder, paneer still in hand, and she sighs. Sigh full of relief. I don’t move. I just hold her hand tighter and find the bliss in the moment. She is it. She is my bliss.