Redemption of Royals (Royal #1: Book 3) | ✔

49

-• the trouble magnet •-

Taranya

Rudra works like a machine.

And I'm not even exaggerating at this point.

If he's not working in the office, he's working at home. If he's not working out in the gym, he's working at his desk. If he's not working on me, he's working on his computer. It's ridiculous. I've only ever seen someone work this hard when they're trying to put a meal on their table. But Rudra's the kind to ignore that meal just so he can get some more work done. He doesn't sleep properly, doesn't eat properly. It's not healthy, and it's not necessary, but it's as if that is where he actually lives, and outside his work is the life that he wants to avoid. The more I get to know this man, the more I understand him and the more it makes sense why he is the way he is. Because he doesn't know any other way. He doesn't see himself as valid, worthy if he's not proving himself constantly.

"I never thought I'll ever allow my husband to have another wife, but here I am," I comment, slipping playfulness in my tone.

He chuckles, and yet his eyes don't leave the screen.

"I'm starting to feel neglected." I say a little louder.

His smile just gets wider, but he gives no possible hint of getting away from those glaring LED screens.

Hiding my growing disappointment, I tug at the blanket and lie flat on the bed. "Good night," I say tersely, shutting off the lights on my side.

"I'm sorry, Esther. I'll join you in a few minutes, I promise." He mumbles distractedly.

By feeding his words any value, I'll only be setting myself up for another disappointment. Closing my eyes, I cozy up inside the thick blanket and hug the pillow to my chest, falling into a sleep induced daze almost immediately.

To my surprise, the bed dips a few minutes later and I grumble a little because of the disturbance, yanking the blanket over my head. A thick arm wounds around my waist and turns me on my other side. I poke my head out of the blanket to glare at the man. He laughs softly and gives me a chaste kiss on the lips, whispering, "I love you," in my ear. It instantly melts off any signs of resistance building up inside me and I give in, wrapping my arms tightly around his torso and burying my face in his chest.

"Don't work so much. It's not healthy." I murmur, my voice muffled against his hoodie.

"Sorry," he says.

I don't know what he's apologising me for. He's not offending me by working twenty hours a day. He's harming his own health. And I hope he realises it before his body makes him.

"Don't apologise to me. My mother used to say," I pause briefly, and he hums, telling me he's listening. "One needs to know their own good. To rely on yourself in bad times, you need to be nice to yourself during the good."

"One day I'll stop working like crazy. When I know I've done enough."

"And when do you think that will be?" I pull away to look up at him. He tilts his chin, staring at me with uncertainty. "You never earn enough, Rudra, you only earn more. And more never ceases, it never stops, it never ends."