I can feel a lump forming in my throat.Goddammit. She says I deserve better when she’s the one who actually deserves everything in the world.
My heart clenches as the realization sinks in. How did I get so lucky to have her in my life?
I take deep breaths to compose myself. I need to see her. This marriage may have been arranged, but I am the one who won—and she needs to know that. She’s not selfish. In fact, she’s the most selfless, most kind-hearted human I’ve ever known.
I walk towards our room, determined to find her, my strides long and fast, full of haste. As I open the door slowly, I find her standing on the balcony, looking out. The sunlight surrounds her, making her look divine.
I have come to notice she likes the balcony. I walk to her with the urgent need to touch her blinding me. As I wrapmy arms around her from behind, a soft gasp escapes from her mouth.
“It’s me,” I rasp. My words come out breathy.
She stills, then slowly relaxes, and it makes my chest swell—knowing that she’s comfortable with my touch, that she wouldn’t let anyone else this close. A primal need rises in me to claim her lips.
Slowly, I turn her around. “I like the taste of your lips on mine.” And then, my lips meet hers. The world dissolves around us as our mouths move together. I must say—she’s a quick learner. I break away for a second, breathing heavily as a smile stretches across my face, and then I kiss her again, my fingers gently sliding down the side of her face to her neck.
She’s beautiful.
“The poem,” I whisper, cupping her face. “It’s beautiful.” I’m out of breath. “But it isn’t true,” I rasp. “Half of it isn’t true.” I pull her into a hug, nuzzling my face into her neck. She gasps.
“It’s not true. You’re not selfish. And I’m sure you have flaws—everyone does—but I don’t see them. Maybe I’m blind when it comes to you.” I laugh softly into her neck. Pride swirls in me as I feel goosebumps rise on her arm, and it only makes my smile widen.
“And it’s not me who deserves better. It’s you. You deserve the world.” I pull back to look at her—so she knows I mean every word. I mean it, each and every word.
“And I do care for you. More than I want to. More than I’ll ever admit. And trust me, I tried fighting it—fighting the fuzzy feeling you make me feel—but I can’t. And at this moment, Idon’t want to.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears. She opens her mouth, but I don’t let her say anything.
“And I’d like a forever with you too,” I complete my words, and she hugs me tight. She sobs, unable to control herself, and I hate it—even though I know she isn’t sad. It’s her happiness that’s making her cry. But still, I hate seeing those tears. It hurts me. I want to murder the reasons behind them—even if it’s me. I’d rather die than make this beautiful soul cry.
I kiss her hair, and we stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“Thank you,” I whisper again.
When her sobs quiet down and her breathing evens out, I tell her, my words coming out genuine, “You’re a wonderful writer.” I see the tips of her ears turn red.
“Have you ever considered writing?” She looks up at me with wide, bright eyes, as if she got a shock. She doesn’t say anything—just stares.
I raise an eyebrow in question, and she looks down as if trying to hide a fact. “I’m writing a novel,” she admits quietly. “I wanted to ask for your permission to publish it after I finish.”
I feel another lump forming in my throat. “Shivani, for the last time,” I lean in, touching my forehead to hers, “you never have to ask me. Do whatever you want.”
My words drip with finality as I stroke her cheek and continue, “Whatever you do, I’ll always support you. Well—except becoming a porn star. I’d have to kill everyone who watches you. And it’s not even a question—no one can touch you except me.” I growl, jealousy already simmering at the mere thought of other men looking at her.
Her face turns in disgust. "Why would you think like that?" She glares at me, and I smile sheepishly. Her face softens. “I’m only yours,” she says softly, and my heart skips a beat.
“And I’m only yours too,” I say just as quietly. “Now tell me about this novel of yours.” I smile.
Her eyes widen as she shakes her head softly. “Nope. Not happening,” she denies, with red tinting her face.
I trap her between the wall and me. She pushes me away and runs. “You can’t force me, Mr. Malhotra!”
Her words ring around in the air. She looks back and giggles, sticking out her tongue before slipping out of the room. Wow. I’m getting to see different sides of my wife. I like this one even more—carefree, spirited, bold.
Now that I’ve seen a glimpse of who she can be, I’m going to do everything in my power to give her that confidence—so she can be her full self.
That would be the best birthday gift to me.
33
SHIVANI
