52. What Love Looks Like
I watched as Dhwani took her clothes and walked inside the bathroom.
I sighed, moving towards the bed. Hell... she still doesn't understand. Love isn't something you prove by hurting yourself.
It's not in sacrifices that leave marks on your skin... it's in choosing not to bleed for someone just to make them feel loved.
And yet there she was.
Showing me those hands..... red, scratched... thinking I'd admire that.
Thinking I'd be happy.
Mad?
I wasn't just mad. I was furious.
Not at her love.
At the way she still thinks pain is the only language I understand.
Whenever I think things might finally get a little normal between us... she does something like this.
Exhaling slowly, I moved towards the bed and started removing the rose petals, clearing it so she could sleep properly.
Her foot is actually injured because of me, so it's the least I can do. I'll take her to the doctor in the morning.
She was nervous. I felt it... the moment I touched her leg. So I gathered all the petals and threw them into the dustbin, removed all the candles decorations.. No need to make her more uncomfortable than she already is.
Dhwani Rathore... nervous. Funny right?
That was new for me too but then again... today wasn't normal.
I picked up a pillow and placed it on the couch. I'm not ready to share a bed. And even if I was... I wouldn't. Her foot is injured. What if I end up hurting her again?
The couch is safer.
I was ready to throw myself on the couch and sleep, but then my phone rang.
I exhaled seeing Dadi calling.
Shaking my head, I answered. "Yes, Dadi?"
"Yugant... why did you enter the house without Dhwani's griha pravesh? Come back downstairs with her."
Oh God. Why do they need griha pravesh when she has entered this house a thousand times already?
"There's no need for any rituals now, Dadi. Please take a rest and let us sleep as well."
I disconnected the call before she could say anything else and put my phone on silent.
As I was about to lie down, Dhwani came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her hair.
"What happened?" she asked, our eyes meeting.
"Nothing... just Dadi calling for some rituals," I said, lying down on the couch.
Her eyes moved to the bed, then back to me.
She swallowed once. "What did you say?"
"I said there's no need." I kept my voice calm. I had already hurt her once.
She nodded without a word and walked towards the balcony, dragging that injured foot like a stubborn child, refusing to take any help from me.
After leaving the towel there, she came back and sat on the bed, staring at the wall.
Seconds passed then minutes. She didn't move.
"Can you turn off the light? I'm tired. I need to sleep."
Her eyes shifted from the wall to me. She blinked a few times, then turned off the main light, leaving only the golden side lamp, and lay down, pulling the comforter over herself.
My eyes didn't leave her.
She kept turning sides. Scratching her arms. Rubbing her palms against the bedsheet.
Restless.
Finally, after what felt like forever, she went still.
I think she slept.
I couldn't stop myself. I got up and walked towards the bed. Opening the first aid kit, I searched for something to apply on those scratches... but there was nothing.
I went back to the couch and texted Ishaan.
The double tick turned blue then the typing dots appeared.
I stared at the screen. What a fucker.
I closed my eyes for a second.
Unbelievable.
This time the reply came faster.
I exhaled, totally done with him.
He went offline for a few minutes then my phone finally vibrated.
I stood up and walked towards the door. The moment I opened it, Ishaan was there... along with Samarth, holding the cream.
Samarth opened his mouth, ready to start something but I didn't give him the chance.
I snatched the cream from his hand and shut the door right on his face.
Huh. Not interested.
I have my wife to take care of first.
Coming towards Dhwani, I sat beside her on the bed and softly held her wrist.
Her bangles made a slight sound. Why didn't she remove them already?
I pushed them up and opened her palm.
My brows furrowed as I looked at her hand. It looked like she had tried to scrub the henna off... harshly. The skin was red, scratched. That's why she was so restless earlier, rubbing her hands again and again.
Fuck... she did it because I shouted.
Her words echoed in my head. She had written my initial in it. She wanted to see my reaction.
And what did I do?
My eyes started scanning her hand carefully, as if trying to find that small initial she wanted me to notice.
The design was disturbed in places, not completely gone... but enough to show how hard she tried.
My eyes moved over every detail. It wasn't in the left hand. I checked the right one.
Nothing. Did she remove it?
I looked again. Slower this time.
And then my eyes found it. A small Y, hidden inside the design. My gaze stilled.
It looked... beautiful.
I didn't think a single letter of my name could look like that... especially on her hand.
My eyes lifted to her face. She was asleep. Peaceful.
Why the hell did I shout at her?
I could have just found it... seen that smile on her face... and then taken care of her hands.
But no. I ruined it. Completely.
I opened the cream and applied it on her hand, rubbing it softly. She shifted a little, a few creases forming on her forehead. I placed my thumb there, gently smoothing them out, and slowly... she relaxed again.
I applied the cream on her other hand as well, not taking my eyes off her.
I don't know what came over me, but I picked up my phone, opened the camera, and clicked a picture-her hand in mine.
It looked... perfect.
So damn pretty.
My eyes moved to her face again. She was glowing. Not that she never did before... she always had that light in her. But today this was different. Deeper.
Like something had finally settled inside her.
Her cheeks looked softer, fuller... that faint red vermilion resting along her hairline, slightly smudged, like it belonged there more than anything else in the world.
Everything about her felt... right. Like this was how she was always meant to look.
I never imagined I'd see this.
Her... sleeping in front of me... as my wife.
My wife.
The word still felt unreal. I wanted to stay angry. I should be angry. She didn't tell me it was her under that veil. Even when my heart kept whispering it was her... my mind kept shutting it down, reminding me-why would she ever marry me?
And then she did.
But when I saw her, I didn't understand anything. Not one thing.
I was just... angry.
Not at her. Never at her.
At Samarth. At everyone else.
That man messes with my head like no one else. I wanted her as my wife. Always did. But when we finally got married everyone knows she was there except me. I wanted to marry her like I mean it, not like an animal who was forced to walk around the holi fire.
Also that Samarth. I never wanted him in the picture and now... he's her brother. Which means I'm stuck with him too. Unfortunate but temporary.
I've already decided i'll kick him back to Rajasthan in the morning.
And after that... I'll talk to Dhwani. Properly.
No interruptions. No chaos. Just us.
And maybe... we can finally have what I've been holding onto for so long.
Something simple.
Peaceful.
Ours.
My gaze dropped to the chain around her neck. The nuptial chain. My hand moved before I could stop it.
This wasn't hers. This was meant for Olivia.
And Dhwani...Dhwani deserves nothing that was ever meant for someone else.
I've always imagined designing every piece of jewellery for her myself.
Every detail.
Every curve.
Every shine.
And I did.
So there's no way I'll let her wear something that wasn't made for her. That wasn't made by me.
I found the hook and quietly unlatched it, sliding it into my pocket then I picked up my phone.
Ishaan replied after a few minutes with a thumbs up.
Tomorrow I'll send Samarth away then I'll fix everything between us and give her the chain.
The one that's actually hers as our wedding gift because she's my wife and she deserves every single thing I've ever imagined giving her.
After everything, after all the mess, the misunderstandings, the distance we're finally here. Together.
And I'm not losing her again.
My mom used to say I always get what I truly desire and right now...she's the proof of that. All I need to do is not let her slip away again.
I always hear 'Mil jaye to mitti, kho jaye to sona'
(when you have it, it feels like dirt; when you lose it, it turns into gold).
I always wanted to prove the opposite.
'Mil jaye to sona, kho jaye to mitti'
(when you have it, it's gold; if you lose it, everything else turns into dust).
Because real love isn't something that loses value once it's yours and If it does... it was never love, just convenience.
But when it's real, having it feels rare and losing it? Feels like losing everything.
I stood and moved towards her injured foot. Removing the comforter, I looked at it-the swelling had gotten worse, probably because she put pressure on it.
I went to the closet and brought a hot bag. The electric one. I put it on charge, and within a few minutes it heated up. Then I placed a pillow under her foot and kept the hot bag beside it, making sure it stayed warm and didn't worsen the swelling.
Covering her properly with the comforter, I moved back and sat beside her on the bed.
Earlier, I was afraid I might hurt her foot if I slept next to her.
But now...I don't think I'd be able to sleep away from her when she's right here.
So I lay down beside her.
A few minutes passed then slowly, feeling my warmth, she moved closer... snuggling into me, her face resting against my chest.
I stilled.
Then lowered my gaze and pressed my lips gently against her forehead. Night had never felt this peaceful before.
I wriggled in my sleep, stretching my body but the moment my foot pressed a little harder against the mattress boom.
My eyes snapped open with pain.
I blinked at the ceiling for a few seconds, already done with my life.
People hurt others. I hurt myself.
Great.
I shook my head in irritation when a slow whistling sound reached my ears. Of course. Morning concert.
Exhaling, I pushed myself up, placing my hands on the mattress and resting my back against the headboard.
My eyes landed on Yugant-standing in front of the vanity, fixing his hair with gel, wearing that grey shirt.
Oh. Grey looks good on him. No wait he looks illegal in grey.
Okay shut up. My brain snapped.
Why shut up? He's my husband now. I can look however I want. Ghoorungi karungi.
[ Will stare as well ]
"Good morning," he said, looking at me through the mirror.
Was it for me?
Last night : Mr. Anger Issues.
This morning : Mr. Good Morning Sweet Voice?
Does it make sense? Absolutely not.
After folding his sleeves, he applied his perfume and turned towards me.
I kept blinking like an idiot. Honestly, I didn't even want to understand anything right now because my brain had already clocked out.
Was he always this handsome or did marriage unlock some new feature?
I bit the inside of my cheek as he walked towards me and stopped right in front.
He sat beside me then casually cupped my face.
Excuse me?
His fingers were cold, brushing against my neck and ear, and suddenly his touch felt... different.
Like we were never this close before.
Like we never... Okay Dhwani, shut up.
He leaned closer. Eyes on my lips.
HELLO??
Before my brain could process anything, his lips touched the corner of my mouth.
I froze.
Like a full system hang. I didn't even blink. I just sat there, shocked, buffering like slow internet.
He pulled back after a few seconds, his thumb brushing the same spot.
"Good morning, Mrs. Raizaada," he repeated, voice low... way too calm for what he just did.
Oh. So now I have to respond.
I swallowed. "Go-good morning."
Even my voice was scared.
"Not like this," he said, lifting my chin slightly. "Wish me the way I did."
Excuse me??? My brain just left my mind.
No, I mean my mind just left my brain.
What the fuck Dhwani? Shut up.
I swear all my iron deficiency activates at once as my head starts spinning. Is this really him?
My expression was literally like those shocked comedy heroes, mouth open, eyes wide, soul gone.
"I... I actually..."
Wow. English left the chat.
His lips curved. "Being nervous, are we... wifey?"
Wifey??? AGAIN???
God, someone check. This man has been replaced. I need witnesses.
"It's okay," he said calmly. "I'll let it slide today but from tomorrow, I want the same treatment I give you."
I nodded like a certified idiot. No thoughts. No dignity. Just nod.
His gaze moved to my forehead, and this time when he leaned down and pressed his lips against my hairline my eyes closed.
Because this time... it felt like him.
My Yugant.
When he pulled back, I opened my eyes slowly. He stood up and moved towards my foot, removing the comforter. His hand touched my foot as he checked it carefully more like a doctor.
My eyes shifted to the side.
The hot water bag and a pillow on the floor.
Wait. Did I kick them in my sleep? Poor things.
But wait again... when did they even come here?
I was busy questioning my entire existence when he opened the crepe bandage.
"Hm... swelling is better. Get ready, we're going to the doctor," he said.
I nodded again like a cow. Seriously, what is wrong with me?
My inner soul was screaming-Dhwani Rathore, where are you??
I pushed the comforter away and tried to get down and again got lifted as his arms slid under my thighs and back.
"What are you doing?" I gasped.
"Helping you get ready," he said, like it's obvious.
"I can manage."
"How?" he raised a brow. "The swelling is gone. I don't want it to get worse."
"But I want to shower."
"Nope. You already did last night. The weather is rainy."
Wow. Control freak. I didn't argue. No point.
He carried me inside the bathroom and made me sit on the counter, handed me my toothbrush, placed my facewash and skincare like some full-time assistant, and walked out. While I got ready, he kept asking from outside if I needed anything.
Suspicious.
Very suspicious behavior.
After I was done, I slowly got down and kicked the laundry basket.
Thankfully it didn't happen with my injured foot.
Yugant's shirt from last night fell out, and something metallic slipped from its pocket.
My brows furrowed. My hand went to my neck. Empty.
Was that... my nuptial chain? The one he made me wear last night during our wedding?
My eyes stung.
So he removed it. But... why?
And if he actually did then why is he behaving like this now?
So much care. So much... softness. What is this man?
"Dhwani, done?" his voice came from outside.
I blinked back my tears. "Hmm."
He walked in, didn't say anything, just picked me up again like it's his daily job now and carried me out.
He walked us back into the room and made me sit on the bed. My eyes landed on the clothes kept there, a one-piece dress, sleeveless.
"Should I wear this?" I asked, looking up at him.
"Yes. You'll stay comfortable."
I nodded. Fair enough.
"You can go now, I can manage," I told him.
He nodded and turned towards the door, but the moment he opened it-Dhrithika was standing there, holding something.
"Can I come inside, bhabhi?" she peeked in.
I nodded.
She walked in, casually pushing Yugant aside like he's furniture.
Placing the things beside me, she sat in front of me and pulled me into a tight hug. "Congratulations for finally being my bhabhi."
Aww... okay, that was sweet.
I smiled as she pulled away.
"What's this?" I pointed at the bags.
"Ohh... this is your saree Dadi sent for today, and this one has Mumma's jewellery," she explained.
Saree?
"I don't know how to wear a saree," I said honestly.
"Same," she shrugged. "That's why Dadi got it customised. Ready-to-wear. Just hook it like jeans and pin it on your shoulder. Even the blouse is so sexy." She said the last part leaning towards my ear and winked.
Wow. Dadi is really smart.
"But Dhwani won't be comfortable in this," Yugant stepped in.
"I get that, but it's important. There are rituals left from yesterday," Dhrithika replied.
"Let me talk to Dadi," Yugant turned instantly.
Wait, Does he not want to do rituals with me?
"Yugant... leave it. I'll manage," I said, not because Dadi wants it because I do.
"Thanks. Get ready, we're waiting downstairs," Dhrithika hugged me again and walked out.
I looked at Yugant.
He looked back like what the fuck was that, but didn't say anything and stepped closer.
"Come. Let's change," he held my arm.
"Let's change?" I raised a brow. "I can manage."
"You can't. It's not a simple dress."
Annoying but... not wrong.
"Fine. Let me wear the blouse first. Go outside."
"Outside?" he repeated like I asked him to leave the country.
"I need privacy."
He turned his back instantly. "Privacy granted. Now wear it."
God. This man. He will prove me bipolar as well.
I pulled the saree out. My eyes landed on the blouse.
Oh. It was beautiful.
Deep V-neck in the front... and the back?
Non-existent. Backless.
Dadi... I love you.
But also-problem. I can't wear my normal bra with this.
"Yugant..." I called.
"Hm."
"Turn around, na."
He turned, thinking I'm done but I wasn't.
"I need something from my room."
"What?" he asked.
Now how do I say this without dying?
"I... need my innerwears."
"You're already wearing the white soft net bra you changed into last night."
Excuse me?
This man really knows everything. Of course. He brought it.
"I can't wear it with this blouse," I showed him the back. "It'll be visible."
"So what? It's normal."
God, give me patience.
"I don't like showing it. I need another one."
He sighed. "Which one?"
"You won't know. Take me there."
He exhaled totally done. Honestly, same.
He packed the saree back, picked up the bags, and lifted me again.
At this point, we both need therapy dealing with each other being all lovey and toxic at the same time.
He took me to my room, into the closet, and made me sit on the bean bag then opened my innerwear section like it's his daily routine.
"Do you need this?" he held up a strapless one.
Kill me, already.
I shook my head.
"This?" A bralette.
"No."
"This?" Tube one.
"No."
"This?" Padded one.
I closed my eyes.
"For fuck's sake, stop. Just take out the black one," I gritted my teeth.
The first day after marriage, I'm sitting here selecting bras with my husband. Beautiful life.
He pulled out four different black ones and held them out like some showroom salesman. "Which black?"
God. End me.
"Seriously?" I looked at him. "The correct black, Yugant. Not my entire collection."
He blinked.
"Which one exactly?" he asked again, calm like this is a normal morning activity.
I took a deep breath. "Look at the end beside the red one," I said, slow and very patient, like I'm talking to a child.
He nodded like a good student.
Then proceeded to shove everything back in the drawer... and started staring into it like it was a puzzle. He scratched his head.
Oh my God.
"For fuck's sake, pull me up. I'll find it myself!" I snapped.
He didn't argue this time. Just came forward, lifted me up again, and brought me closer to the drawer.
And there it was, exactly where I said.
This man saw everything in that drawer except the one thing I asked for.
I grabbed it and held it up in front of him. "What is this?"
He looked at it... then at me. "It's... something. I don't know."
Unbelievable.
"It's the stick-on bra I told you about. The black one."
He looked at it again, this time more seriously... like he's analysing a business deal then his gaze shifted from it to me.
"Can it even hold... them properly?" he asked, glancing at my breast and then back at my face.
"YES. It does," I snapped instantly.
"But what if-"
"Yugant. Shut. Up. Will. You?"
He actually went quiet.
Miracle.
He carried me back and made me sit on the bean bag, then stood in front of me, arms folded, watching me like I'm about to perform a strip show.
"What now?" I narrowed my eyes.
"Wear it," he said, completely serious. "I want to see how it works."
I stared at him. Blank. Processing.
"Do me a favour," I said sweetly.
He smiled. "What?"