𝙼𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚎

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A Y A A N

She took her place in the car, settling in beside me

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She took her place in the car, settling in beside me. While she managed to hold back her tears outside, her eyes, brimming with unspoken emotions, finally released the held-back tears, flowing continuously.
My wife is strong.
My wife.

Observing her silent tears tugged at my heart, but sense of relief washed over me because this time I wasn't the reason for them at that moment.

Heck. I was the reason for it too. A wave of realization hit me - I was indeed a part of the reason behind her tears. If this marriage thing wouldn't have came than she wouldn't have been crying like this.
I'm sorry, sweetheart.

I offered her my handkerchief, a small symbol of comfort in a sea of shared uncertainties.
Even though I don't know how to comfort but hopefully it will.

About handkerchief, I don't share what's mine even if it's the tiniest thing. But she was now mine. The realization struck that she was now mine, intertwined with my name, my future, my house, and even my room.
She is mine. A smile appeared which I didn't knew I was capable of.

Despite my usual demeanor, I softened my tone. She has that ability.

"I may not always express myself well
In moments like these, its completely okay to feel overwhelmed. I understand this is tough, and I'm here for you. Lean on me if you need to, even if my words may not always convey it."

With her, I don't need to find words; they effortlessly find their way to my mouth. And She has that ability.

"Thankyou so much. It means a lot to me."

And you mean a lot to me.

The car sped directly to the airport. Vihanaa seems tired by all the rituals but the rituals haven't been finished yet.

She removed her heavy lehenga and slip on her jacket. She was wearing a pant inside lehenga. It was better and comfortable for the journey on the airplane.

After a 2 to 2.5-hour flight, we touched down in Mumbai. She had peacefully slept throughout the journey, and despite my reluctance, I had to wake her upon landing.

Heading towards our house, her drowsiness lingered until we arrived. However, as soon as we reached our house, her sleepiness gave way to a renewed sense of wakefulness.

Swiftly donning her heavy lehenga, she discarded the jacket, striving to make herself presentable.
She looks always presentable.

Upon standing at the entrance, we were welcomed with a ceremonial arti, where a plate with a diya (lamp), kumkum (vermilion), and rice is circled around our face, symbolizing the removal of evil forces and the invitation of auspiciousness.

Following this, she performs the Griha Pravesh ritual, marking her formal entry into her new home. She steps into the house with her right foot, leaving a mark with red vermillion paste near the entrance.

Once all the rituals concluded, we finally made our way to our room. An awkward atmosphere enveloped the room as I closed the door. To dispel the awkward atmosphere, I decided to break the silence and spoke.

"You should go and take a shower. You seem tired."

Thankfully, our room wasn't adorned with roses and candles, sparing us from the typical Suhag rat night ambiance. I had warned my sister against such elaborate decorations, knowing that it would only make us both incredibly awkward and uncomfortable.

As she took nearly half an hour to freshen up, I couldn't help but admire her natural beauty without makeup and in simple night clothes. It was so captivating that I had to consciously divert my gaze.

I quickly freshened up, exhausted from the day's rituals. When I returned, I saw her settling on the bed. To avoid making her uncomfortable, I grabbed a pillow and headed towards the couch.

"Aap Kaha ja Rahe he?"
(Where are you going?)

"To sleep on couch. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Why would I be uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as my husband?"

When she asked and addressed me as "husband," her words carried a warmth that settled in my heart. The acknowledgment of our new roles in such a simple sentence added a layer of connection and affection to the unfolding moments.

"So desperate to share a bed with your husband?" I said having a smirk on my face.

"It's not like that. The couch is small; it may cause back pain. I was just- So since I'm not uncomfortable, it's on you, you can sleep on couch or bed."

I made my way back to the bed with a smirk still lingering on my face. I knew she didn't love it.

"Ek ratt Nahi gujra hamare sadika aur aap abhise humare barema chinta karney lagi? So wifey material."
(One night haven't been spend and you've already started to worry about me?)

I wasn't quite sure where this conversation was coming from, but its effortlessness made it feel.

Her face turned red, and for a brief moment, a sense of pride washed over me, knowing that I was the reason behind that blush.

"I'm tired. Let me sleep."

She avoided eye contact, and it seemed that, at this moment, everything else around her held more interest than meeting my gaze.

As she settled on the right side of the bed, I took my place on the left. The simple act of sharing the same bed with her stirred a profound and comforting feeling within me.

.......

The next morning, I woke up at 5 am, adhering to my usual routine of rising early, even on weekends or when fatigued. As my eyes opened, I felt the weight of one hand and the softness of another. It was in that moment that the realization hit me-last night, I got married.

As she slept peacefully in my arms, facing me, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the sight. If I had known that being married to her meant waking up to this enchanting view every morning, I would have snatched her from the world to make her mine. Now, with her as my own, witnessing this breathtaking scene, my eyes felt blessed, and I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest man alive.

With her looking so cute and almost snuggled against me, I didn't feel like leaving the bed. The warmth of the moment held me captive and waking up seemed like a distant thought compared to the comfort of having her close.

So I decided to stay in bed, contentedly gazing at her for at least an hour or two.

When I finally mustered the will to rise from the bed, it was already 7. I had to literally force myself to do so, as the comfort of the moment had made leaving a challenging task.

Heading to the walk-in closet connected to the bathroom, I took the initiative to rearrange my clothes, creating space for hers. The simple act felt like a step toward merging our lives and making room for each other.

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