[71]
The monsoon rain fell in a steady, soothing rhythm outside the haveli, turning the world into a soft, grey haze.
The balcony of their bedroom was the perfect escape-wide, cushioned couch, potted plants dripping with raindrops, the scent of wet earth drifting in.
Amisha sat lazily on the couch, legs stretched out, back against a pile of pillows, her simple cotton kurti slightly rumpled from the afternoon nap she never quite took.
Around her, all four of them were in full lazy mode.
Aviraj (now a lanky 9-year-old) sprawled on one side, head on her thigh, yawning dramatically.
Aryan (6 years old, still chubby-cheeked) on the other side, half-asleep, one arm flung over her leg.
Little Abhira (3 years old, the princess of the house) was "walking" (more like toddling) around the couch, babbling nonstop-"Mumma... papa... bhaiya... rain... doodh..."-occasionally climbing up to plop on Amisha's lap before sliding down again.
All four yawned in unison (lazy, content, no intention of moving).
Amisha smiled sleepily, one hand stroking Aviraj's hair, the other holding Abhira when she climbed up.
The door to the room opened.
Abhiraj walked in (shirt half-unbuttoned as always, sleeves rolled, pants casual, looking unfairly hot and handsome even after a long day of village work).
He paused at the balcony door, taking in the scene (his wife and three children in a lazy pile, yawning like a family of cats).
His lips curved.
Then he moved.
Walked straight to the couch.
Grabbed Aviraj and Aryan by their shirts (gently but firmly).
Threw them to the side cushions.
Both boys landed with dramatic "oofs" and giggles.
Abhiraj dropped down, put his head squarely on Amisha's lap.
Closed his eyes.
Aryan sat up, rubbing his head.
"Papa... yeh bhedbhav hai!
Aapne humko fek diya aur abhiraj wahi hai!"
Abhiraj opened one eye lazily.
"Oh... yeh bhedbhav hai?"
He reached over, plucked sleeping Abhira from Amisha's arms, handed her to Aviraj.
"Jao.
Ab nahi hai bhedbhav.
Niklo yahan se. Bahar khelo."
The three kids stood up, murmuring.
Aviraj: "Mummy hamari bhi toh hain... unki thodi hai."
Aryan: "Puri Mummy hamari hai!"
Abhira babbled: "Mummaaa..."
They marched out dramatically.
"Chalo Dadi ke paas complaint karenge...
Dada ko bhi batayenge!"
(Meenakshi Ma and Rajveer Papa were about to get an earful.)
The door closed behind them.
Abhiraj sighed contentedly, head still in Amisha's lap, eyes closed.
Amisha looked down at him, trying to glare but failing (smile breaking through).
"Badtameez."
He opened his eyes, grinned up at her.
"as you say."
She ran her fingers through his hair.
He caught her hand, kissed her palm.
The rain fell softer now.
The children's voices echoed faintly from downstairs (already complaining to the grandparents).
And on the balcony couch,
the king rested his head in his queen's lap.
Just like always.
Lazy.
In love.
Forever.
Abhiraj sighed contentedly, head still in Amisha's lap, eyes closed.
His hands started roaming (irritating her in the best way).
Fingers tracing her waist.
Sliding up her thigh.
Brushing the side of her breast.
Trailing her neck.
Squeezing her hand.
He couldn't stop touching.
She tried to stay relaxed, but finally spoke.
"Thakte nahi ho aap kya?"
He grinned, hand still on her thigh.
"Naa."
She rolled her eyes.
"37 saal ke ho gaye... buddhe ho gaye ab toh thako."
He chuckled, hand sliding higher.
"Main nahi thakta...
tum hi thak jaati ho."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Main nahi thakti.
Main kab thaki?"
He raised an eyebrow, smirk growing.
Then slid her kurti aside just enough (exposing the faint bite marks on her collarbone-hidden low so the children wouldn't see).
She understood immediately.
Blushed.
The marks from nights when she "got tired."
She pulled the kurti back, glaring playfully.
"Aap abhi kyun araam kar rahe ho?
Abhi toh kaam ka waqt hai na?"
He leaned closer, hand on her waist now.
"Energy consume kar raha hoon."
She blinked.
"Kyun?"
He winked, voice low.
"Raat ko use karne ke liye."
She blushed deep red, slapped his chest lightly.
He chuckled, caught her hand.
"Waise... kal apka birthday hai na?
Kya gift chahiye?"
She thought he'd say something sweet.
He thought for a moment.
Then a wicked smirk spread across his face.
"You... naked in my bed... with a ribbon on you."
Her eyes widened.
Shock.
Shyness.
Cheeks burning.
She slapped his chest again (harder this time).
He laughed (deep, warm).
"Jo tum kaho wo... wohi gift."
She hummed, looking away, but smiling.
"Jo tum chahte ho... wohi milega."
He pulled her close, kissed her forehead.
The rain fell.
The children's voices echoed faintly from downstairs (already complaining to the grandparents).
And on the balcony couch,
the king rested his head in his queen's lap.
Abhiraj was in a mood (arms crossed, face brooding.
He looked at Amisha, who was roaming her hands in his head calmly.
"Or haa... tumhe woh ladka pasand hai na, Ranvijay.
Tum kehti ho na 'masoom hai, achha hai'...
Aur ab toh humare business mein bhi aa gaya hai.
Underworld mein."
Amisha paused the hands, turned to him.
"Aap kya kar rahe the woh underworld mein?"
Abhiraj froze.
Pakda gaya.
He stood up quickly, trying to look innocent.
"Mujhe toh bas baat mili thi..."
Amisha stood too (faster, eyes sharp, catching every lie).
She stepped forward.
He took a step back.
"Baat mili thi?
Sirf baat?
Phir Vikram ji ke saath meeting kyun?"
He backed up more.
"Arre woh... business discuss kar rahe the..."
She advanced.
"Business?
Underworld ka business?"
He hit the wall (literally).
No more space to retreat.
She stood close, arms crossed.
"Mujhe keh deti hoon...
aapke yeh underworld mein mere teen bachhon mein se ek bhi nahi aayega."
He tried one last defense.
"Mere bhi bachhe hain!"
She smiled sweetly (dangerously).
"Toh aap mere ho...
toh ab toh bachhe mere hue na?"
He shut up.
Completely.
She turned back to the mirror, resumed braiding.
"Us Ranvijay ko toh dekhti hoon main."
Abhiraj complained from the wall.
"Tumne Abhira ko usse kyun diya tha godi mein?"
She glanced at him in the mirror.
"Aapko pata hai... Abhira khud khelna chahti thi uske saath."
Abhiraj grumbled.
"Woh ladka mujhe Abhira ke aas-paas pasand nahi."
Amisha laughed softly.
"Arre unka age gap toh dekho...
nahi kuchh bhi."
Abhiraj murmured under his breath.
"Haan... hope so."
She turned, walked to him, kissed his cheek.
"Gussa mat karo.
Ranvijay achha ladka hai."
He pulled her close, arms around her waist.
"Par meri beti... sirf meri."
She smiled.
"Haan... sirf aapki."
He kissed her forehead.