𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

Chapter 44

The minute I stepped out of the university gates, I felt it—that pull. Like gravity had shifted, and the only direction I wanted to go was home.

To her.

The drive back to Singhania Mansion felt longer than usual, thanks to Mumbai traffic and my own impatience. My phone buzzed with work messages, but I ignored them. Nothing—nothing—was more important than seeing Maya curled up in my hoodie, in our room, waiting for me.

As soon as I walked in, Veer popped out of nowhere with that smug face of his.

"Bhai," he whispered dramatially, "brace yourself."

I raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

He leaned closer. "Your wife? Maya? She's officially the queen of this house. I caught her in your study earlier, hugging your Advanced Calculus book like it was a teddy bear. I think she even kissed the spine."

I smirked. "That book smells like me."

Veer gagged. "Too much info, bro."

Shaking my head, I headed upstairs. The hallway was quiet except for the soft sound of Simba's paws clicking against the marble floor. He looked up at me, tail waging like crazy, then sprinted into the bedroom—his unofficial kingdom.

And there she was.

Maya. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, wrapped in my hoodie that looked at least two sizes too big on her. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, her face bare and glowing, eyes glued to something on her phone. She didn't even notice me walk in.

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Just watching her felt like a privilege.

"Maya," I said softly.

Her head snapped up, eyes wide—guilty, surprised, sleepy.

"Y-you're home early."

"I missed you."

She blinked. "Since when do you say things like that?"

I stepped in, shrugging off my blazer and unbuttoning my sleeves. "Since I married a woman who steals my hoodies and cuddles with math textbooks."

Her cheeks flushed. "Veer told you?"

"Veer tells me everything." I moved toward her, dropping down on the bed beside her. "But I don't need him to tell me what I already knew."

She tilted her head. "What's that?"

I leaned in, brushing my lips against her temple. "That you're completely, hopelessly in love with me."

Maya laughed, that soft musical sound that undid every rough edge inside me. "Keep dreaming, Mr. Khadoos."

I turned to her, cupping her face. "Not a dream anymore, trouble. You're real. This is real."

She looked into my eyes and whispered, "Then prove it."

I didn't need another word.

I kissed her—soft, slow, reverent. The kind of kiss that said home, always. My hands tangled in her hair while hers clutched the front of my shirt like she never wanted to let go.

When we pulled away, breathless, she looked up and grinned. "I was gonna surprise you with dinner."

I smirked. "You just did."

She shoved my shoulder. I caught her hand mid-air and kissed her knuckles.

And just like that, the world outside didn't matter.

Because my home wasn't this mansion. It was her. It was always her.

Later that evening, the sky outside turned a shade of dusky orange, and soft lights filled the Singhania Mansion. Maya had disappeared into the kitchen—claiming she had to surprise me with dinner. She insisted I wasn't allowed to peek.

So naturally, I did.

Peeking through the crack of the kitchen door, I saw her standing there barefoot, hair in a messy braid, humming some old Bollywood tune while stirring something on the stove. My hoodie still hung loose on her frame, sleeves rolled, cheeks glowing from the heat.

God help me.

I leaned my forehead against the wall, smirking. Wife material? Try whole damn cookbook.

Ten minutes later, I pretended to act surprised as she brought out the plates.

"Paneer butter masala, jeera rice, and homemade rotis," she announced proudly, hands on hips.

"You didn't burn them this time?" I teased.

Her eyes narrowed. "You wanna sleep hungry tonight?"

I chuckled, pulling out her chair. "You wouldn't dare. You love me too much."

She muttered under her breath, but her blush gave her away.

We ate together on the balcony, fairy lights twinkling above us, Simba curled at our feet. She kept feeding me with her hands despite my attempts to stop her, and I kept letting her win. Honestly, I liked being pampered by her. I liked everything she did.

And once the plates were cleared and our tea was poured, I pulled out my own surprise.

"I have something for you," I said, pulling an envelope from my pocket.

She narrowed her eyes playfully. "If this is another math riddle—"

"It's not," I said, handing her the envelope.

She tore it open slowly, eyes scanning the contents—and then they widened.

"Manali?"

"Our honeymoon," I said, grinning. "Just you, me, snow-covered hills, a fireplace, and absolutely no family or professors around."

Maya looked up from the tickets, her face a mix of awe and disbelief.

"You're serious?"

I nodded. "Three days. In a private mountain-view cabin. Hot chocolate, snowball fights, late-night cuddles—everything."

She let out a squeal and jumped into my lap, nearly knocking the teacups over in the process.

"You're insane!"

"For you? Always."

She pressed a kiss to my jaw. "This is perfect. I've always wanted to see Manali in winter."

I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and whispered, "Then start packing, Mrs. Khadoos. We leave tomorrow morning."

She beamed, her smile lighting up more than the fairy lights around us.

And right there, with my wife in my arms, her laugh in the air, and the excitement of our first trip together swirling between us—

I knew life was about to get a whole lot sweeter.

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