“Show it to me?” I ask once he’s done.
“Nope,” he replies with a small grin.
“These are just for me, sweetheart. No one else gets to see them.” Then he bops my nose playfully and walks out. Wow. A month ago, if someone had told me that I’d be in Rudraksh Malhotra’s house—watching him smile and laugh like a normalperson—I would’ve laughed in their face. It’s still hard to believe how cocky and intimidating he is to everyone else.
I walk into the closet. If it took me two hours to get ready, it’s probably going to take all night to undo everything—wipe off the makeup, take down my hair, and get out of this ridiculously heavy dress. I remove the dupatta first, then start working through the jewelry. I don’t even remember wearing this many pieces, but as they come off one by one, my body starts to feel lighter. I start taking off my makeup when I hear a knock.
“Shivani, are you alright?” It’s Rudraksh.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I reply. I’m tired, sleepy—but I think I’m okay.
“You’re taking a while. Do you need help?” I freeze. I can’t let him see me like this. I glance at my reflection in the mirror—no makeup, hair a little out of place. Is it okay to let him see me like this? But… he’s my husband—he’s going to see me eventually.
Still, I’m very self-conscious. What if he sees me and regrets everything? He’s the first guy I’ve ever been close to, the first I actually like. I want him to admire me, but I’d be so embarrassed if he doesn’t.
“Shivani?” he asks again, a note of concern in his voice. His voice breaking through the train of my thoughts.
I take a deep breath and walk slowly to the door. I pull open the door just a little. “Could you help me with my hair?” I ask quietly, avoiding his eyes. I hear him inhale sharply.
“Wow. You just keep getting more beautiful.” He pauses, his eyes lingering on my form, and I wait for him to finish hiswords. “I don’t know how,” he murmurs. Our eyes meet, and I see nothing but honesty shining in his gaze.
Heactuallyfinds me beautiful like this.
Hefinds me beautiful like this.
But that’s probably just the lehenga. Pajamas won’t have the same effect… right? I smile softly at my thoughts.
“Please don’t… I don’t know how to respond to such comments.” A shaky breath heaves out from my lips as I commit to my vulnerability.
“Well, too bad, darling,” he says, his voice deeper than before. He steps inside the closet, gently backing me up. He closes the door behind him with one hand.
“You’ll have to get used to it.” He murmurs, his gruff voice low and steady. I stare into his black eyes—dark as the night.
“Rud… Rudraksh, my hair,” I stammer, breath catching. He takes my hand and leads me to the chair in front of the mirror, silently gesturing for me to sit.
He stands behind me, our eyes meeting through our reflection in the mirror. Then he bends down and kisses the top of my head. He frowns slightly, unsure where to begin with undoing the hairstyle. Then he starts removing the pins, helping me with such care. It may have taken us twenty minutes—if I’d done it alone, it would’ve taken an hour. He keeps running his fingers through my hair, soothingly. His movements make me feel safe and relaxed.
“I need to change, Rudraksh,” I remind him gently. He nods and leaves, giving me one last lingering look before walking out. No one has ever given me their undivided attention like this before. It feels… good. Like I’m the only thing that matters tohim right now. I change into my nightsuit and step out of the closet to find him sitting on the bed, scrolling through his phone.
As soon as he sees me, he puts it away. “Come on, let’s sleep,” he says. I nod. I’m nervous—sharing a bed with him—but he’s promised he won’t do anything, and I trust him. More than I want to. He moves to the right side of the bed like it’s second nature—maybe that’s the side he always sleeps on. I walk over to the empty side and lie down after adjusting the pillow.
“Rudraksh?” I whisper.
“Yes?” he responds.
“Do you have an extra pillow?” He props himself up on one elbow, facing me.
“Why do you need an extra pillow, sweetheart?” he asks, confused. I hesitate. I don’t know how to explain that I just like hugging something while I sleep. But before I can speak, his expression changes. The gentleness disappears. His jaw tightens. “I told you, Shivani—I won’t do anything without your permission,” he says, his voice low and measured.
Oh no. He thinks I want to keep it between us. No, I don't want to do that; I trust his words. I shake my head quickly.
“No, that’s not what I meant, Rudraksh—”
“Then what do you mean, darling?” He asks, still intense.
“I just… I just have this habit of hugging a pillow while I sleep. I can’t fall asleep otherwise.” His eyebrow rises. Then he lets out a soft chuckle. He shifts closer to me, his fingers grazing the side of my neck. My skin erupts in goosebumps. I feel the heat rise in my cheeks and neck.
“How about you replace that pillow with me, Shivani?” he asks, his voice husky and low. My heartbeat accelerates on. I close my eyes, tilting my head instinctively to give him more space as his fingers roam. But then he pulls his hand away, and I feel disappointed. I open my eyes to see him smirking. That’s not fair—he shouldn’t be allowed to do things like this so effortlessly. I let out a quiet huff. “We don’t have an extra pillow. Do you want mine?” he offers. I shake my head.
