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I was in the secret room-my sanctuary, my obsession, my hidden temple of devotion. Every inch of it was filled with her. My Katha. My sunshine.
Photos of her lined the walls. Candid shots, captured from afar. Close-ups I managed to steal. Canvas paintings I poured my soul into when words failed. In here, she lived in every form-angry, laughing, unreadable, powerful... divine.
And today, I sat in the middle of it all, grinning like an idiot. Why? Because she was mine. My wife. I married Katha Choudhury. No... Katha Dattatriya Agnivanshi. My sunshine.
She had always been a ray of light I never believed I deserved. I had spent so many years letting my fears swallow me-my past, my nightmares, the blood on my hands. I kept pushing her away. Again and again. Until I nearly lost her.
But fate, in its strange mercy, gave me a second chance. My Mahakal gave her back to me. My Katha.
And oh, I still remember the look in her brothers' eyes when I stood in the mandap.
Bhairava's voice like thunder:
"If she cries because of you, I'll make sure you forget what breathing feels like.
"
Gyan's hand crushed mine in a handshake that felt more like a warning.
Dyan didn't even speak-he just stared, and I genuinely feared he might break my ribs with a hug or a punch.
Possibly both.
Even Utsav, the sweet one, leaned in and said:
"I can hack every inch of your life. Don't test me, jeeju."
But none of them shook me like him. My new sasur. Sahadev Choudhury.
He pulled me aside like a calm storm. And with a smile that could end wars, he said:
"You hurt my daughter once, I'll feed your limbs to her leopard. Slowly. One by one."
I'd faced mafia dons, international threats, and assassins-but that? That made my soul tremble.
Still, none of it mattered. I would never let her cry. If it meant cutting myself open just to give her peace-I would. Gladly.
I looked at the painting on the easel. Still wet. Me and her-at the mandap. The sindoor in her hair, the mangalsutra around her neck, and me... smiling for the first time like a man who won the universe.
Because I did. I won her.
But I knew I had damaged us. I had built walls where I should've built bridges. She was angry. Hurt. Rightfully. I had so much work to do to earn back her trust, her heart.
I glanced at the clock. 2:03 AM.
Shit.
I left my newlywed wife alone on our first night.
Panic surged in me as I locked the secret room and rushed to our bedroom.
And the moment I opened the door, the world stopped.
There she was-curled on the bed, sound asleep, wearing my shirt.
I stood frozen at the door, gulping hard.
The shirt swallowed her, hanging off her delicate frame like it was made for her.
She looked ethereal. Like she belonged there. Like the bed, the room, my world-all existed just to hold her.
My sunshine. My goddess.
I glanced at Sheraa, curled up peacefully on the sofa. With a soft smile, I grabbed a blanket and covered him gently. Then turned back to the bed, still unsure if I deserved to lie beside her.
But something inside me whispered: Go.
So I moved closer. Slowly. Carefully.
I slipped into the bed beside her. Her back was facing me, and I hesitated only a moment before sliding my arm around her waist and pulling her against my chest.
And damn-she fit.
Every curve of her spine, the way her head settled under my chin, the soft flutter of her breath... She was made for my arms.
I buried my face in the crook of her neck. Her vanilla scent wrapped around me like a lullaby, and my chest ached.
"I craved this all my life," I whispered.
A single tear slipped down my cheek. I didn't even care.
"Finally, you're mine, sunshine," I breathed, holding her tighter.
And somewhere between my heartbeat and hers, I finally fell asleep-peaceful, content, and deeply in love.
I stirred from my sleep slowly, the world still a blur behind my closed lids-but I didn't move.
I didn't have to. I could feel her. Her fingers, soft and delicate, gently tracing the tattoos across my chest. Slowly, reverently.
.. like I was a painting and she was discovering secrets hidden in every line of ink.
I kept my eyes closed and pretended to sleep, not wanting to scare her off. Not wanting her to stop.
"This man..." she whispered under her breath, her voice full of curiosity and quiet awe. "How can a Chief Minister have so many tattoos?"
I smiled inside, my heart blooming like spring at the sound of her voice.
She continued tracing along my collarbone, fingers brushing the Sanskrit script near my heart.
"Well damn... my husband is hot," she muttered, half-impressed, half-annoyed.
"Kuch bhi kaho... kya maal mila hai mereko... wah Katha, what a choice," she patted her own back gently.
("Whatever anyone says... what a man I've got... wow Katha, what a choice.")
I wanted to laugh. God, I really did. But I held it in, listening to her adorable, sassy self as she kept mumbling while her fingers roamed my skin.
"What's this one..." she muttered, staring at a tattoo of a phoenix on my rib. "Kya yeh rebirth ka symbol hai? Hmm... tum toh poetic nikle, Agnivanshi..."
("Is this the symbol of rebirth? Hmm... you turned out to be poetic, Agnivanshi...")
And then she went quiet.
Too quiet.
Her fingers slowed... and then I heard it. A whisper so soft, it sliced me open.
"You couldn't even fight for your love, Datta... You made me feel so useless and unwanted these past few days... that I wanted to break your face."
I felt her words punch through my ribs like a blade. I stopped breathing for a second.
That pain in her voice? I caused it.
I'd been a coward. A selfish, broken coward. And it cost me her warmth. Her trust.
My hand moved on its own, reaching up to hold hers gently.
"Sorry... sunshine..." I whispered, my voice low and raw.
She flinched in shock, her eyes snapping to mine.
I finally opened them and looked down at her. Her expression froze-hurt, startled, confused.
I held her gaze.
No mask. No ego. Just regret... and love. So much love.
She stared, searching my eyes, her lips parting slightly.
But I didn't say anything more. I couldn't.
Because nothing I say would erase what I did to her.
But this time, I wouldn't run. This time, I'd stay.
This time, I'd fight.
She snapped out of her daze when Sheraa gave a low, sharp purr from the sofa, clearly warning me to watch my tone around his mother.
She glared at me - goddess mode, fully activated.
Cute, I thought, smiling involuntarily.
"Why did you hold me while I was sleeping?" she asked, voice clipped, arms folded across that shirt-my shirt-that looked like it belonged to her and only her.
I shrugged, grinning. "Well... you didn't protest in your sleep."
She narrowed her eyes, unimpressed, and stood up with a dramatic huff, walking over to Sheraa and scooping him into her arms like a shield.
"You look mine in that shirt," I murmured, unable to stop myself. My eyes drank her in-bare legs, wild damp hair, tired eyes that still held storms. Everything about her screamed mine.
But she turned, fire flashing behind her gaze.
"Where did this claiming go when I was begging you to fight for us?" she shot back, and just like that-my grin vanished.
Silence.
I stood there, the words lodged in my throat, until I finally spoke-my voice low, trembling but honest.
"I know I didn't fight for you. I know I was a coward. But I couldn't. I was too scared... too broken."
Her grip on Sheraa tightened, but she didn't look away.
"I couldn't lose you too, Katha," I continued, "I already lost the one person I loved the most-my mother. Maha Kaal took her from me. After that, I stopped living. I was just... breathing. Numb."
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, my fingers curling into fists.
"Then you came. You. My sunshine. The only reason I started living again. You're the reason I wake up every day. You were the only light in my dark, goddamn world."
She didn't move. Her expression softened, just a fraction. But I saw it.
"But I was scared," I confessed. "If I let you in, what if you saw all my scars? All the blood on my hands? What if I gave you everything and it still wasn't enough? What if... I destroyed you?"
I exhaled shakily, blinking back the burn in my eyes.
"And you think it was easy for me? To see you get married to someone who wasn't me? My heart broke into pieces, Katha. I cried. I cried in front of Maha Kaal, begged Him to give you back to me. But I was still afraid."
I looked at her now-eyes raw, soul bare.
"Maha Kaal took everything I ever loved-my happiness, my freedom, my father's love, my mother."
I stepped closer, my voice breaking into a whisper, "But I can't lose you. No. I can't... I'll die, Katha."
Tears pricked the edges of my vision. But I didn't blink them away.
I just stood there-open, vulnerable, real-for the first time in my life.
Waiting for her to speak. Or leave.
Whichever hurt less.
Suddenly, without a word, she stepped forward and shoved Sheraa into my arms. The leopard cub growled lowly but settled instantly, as if sensing something intense was about to happen.
I looked down, slightly confused, and then looked up-only to meet that glare. That Katha glare. The one that could burn empires.
But before I could say a word or even blink, she leapt into my arms. I caught her instantly-one arm holding her tight against my chest, the other still cradling Sheraa between us.
For a second, everything stopped. My heart. Time. Everything.
She hid her face in my neck, her breath hot against my skin, and I froze-afraid if I moved, this moment would disappear like smoke.
"You're such a jackass," she whispered, voice muffled.
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," she said, curling her fingers into my shirt, "A coward. An idiot. A disaster of a man. But unfortunately..." she paused, then mumbled, "you're my idiot now."
I felt Sheraa shift in my arm, and I looked down. He was watching us like a strict chaperone.
"Technically," I muttered, smirking a little, "I think you just claimed me."
"I did not," she snapped, but didn't move.
"You jumped in my arms," I teased.
"You were supposed to catch me. And you better not drop me, CM."
"I wouldn't. Ever." My voice softened. "You belong here."
She didn't reply. Just stayed there-face buried in my shoulder, heart thudding against mine.
And I knew.
She hadn't forgiven me yet. Not completely.
But she was here. In my arms.
And maybe... just maybe... that was the beginning of something whole.
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