“You’re crying because you’re happy?” I ask, confused. I’ve never understood emotions well. Never tried. But I want to understand hers. I don’t get it. I’ve always believed cryingwas for pain, for weakness. But she’s standing here, fragile and glowing, saying this is joy.
“Yes… it’s the beginning of a new life for me. I’m scared, but I’m happy too.” She mutters with a watery smile forming on her face.
“Shivani…” I softly caress her cheek. Her skin feels like silk against my fingers. “You don’t have to be scared. No matter what happens, I’ll be beside you. Always. Remember that.”
“Thank you,” she says, placing her hand over mine. The contact sends a spark through my chest. God, she’s beautiful.
I hesitate for a second, but I have to ask. “Do you miss your parents?”
It’s been bothering me. Neither she nor her parents really cried during her vidaai. Shivani is emotional—I know that. She cried in front of me, a stranger, on our first meeting, so why didn’t she cry when leaving her family?
Even Meera, her mother, only shed a few tears—and they looked forced. At least to me. Shivani’s face tenses.
There’s a pause before she answers.
“Um… yes. Of course, I do.” A forced reply. She’s easy to read. I want to call her out, but I let it go because, one, we just got married, and this is not how I want to spend our first night confronting her, and two, it has been a long and tiring day.
“You won’t miss them too much,” I say, trying to reassure her. “Everyone here adores you. They won’t let you feel alone.”
She smiles at me. “I’m sure of that. I like everyone here too.”
“I think I should change,” she says. I nod. She’s been in that heavy lehenga since evening, and it’s past midnight. I don’t know how she hasn’t complained even once.
“Before that, did I tell you that you look absolutely stunning?”
She smiles at my comment, the kind of smile that steals your breath away.God, that smile could ruin me.
“Yes, you have. This is the third time,” she says shyly, ducking down her head as she tries to hide her red cheeks.
Adorable.
“Only three times? That’s too little.” I brush my fingers lightly along her jawline. She inhales sharply.
“Rudraksh… can we… can we take things slow?” she asks hesitantly. I immediately step back, lowering my hands. It’s going to be hard to keep my hands off her when she looks like that, but I nod. Whatever happens between us will happen on her terms. I need her to be comfortable. I want her to feel safe with me. We stand there in silence, just staring at each other.
“I’m sorry,” she says suddenly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just—”
I place a finger gently on her lips and pull back.
“You don’t have to apologize. I understand, Shivani. Trust me, I won’t do anything without your permission. It’s just that… You’re really beautiful. And it’s hard for me to keep my hands to myself.” I laugh lightly, though it’s not really funny. It’s painful, honestly.
“You’re my husband… I mean, it’s okay if you…” She trails off, cheeks pink. She says and looks down shyly.
“Just because I’m your husband doesn’t mean I get to touch you whenever I want. It’s your body. I’m not doing anything unless you want me to.”
She looks disappointed on hearing my words. Her smile flickers, but I’m not finished. A smirk tugs at my lips.
“But do you want me to touch you, darling?” I lower my voice, my tone teasing and intimate as I just lean more into her personal space. She looks away, flustered, then slowly nods.
“You like it when your husband touches you, baby?” I murmur, tracing her jawline and tilting her face up to meet my gaze.
She nods again. “I need words, Shivani,” I whisper close to her ear.
“Yes,” she breathes.
“Give me a twirl,” I say, holding her hand.
“Let me see you, my beautiful wife.” She shakes her head, and I frown.
