Sitting before the mirror on her wedding day, adorned with the red bridal attire, Zoya, Delhi's one of the most renowned Gynecologist couldn't feign the absurd heaviness in her chest, as if something awful was going to happen. And the little hopeful...
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I wake up with the cool breeze brushing against my face. And the very first thing that I notice with the fresh wave of morning is my husband's absence. I look at every vacant space of our room, pat the side of my bed but Nischay's not here beside me.
Where is he?
Soreness drapes my body like a blanket as soon as I try to get up from the bed, making it terribly hard for me to stretch my arms. I cover my nakedness with the bedsheet, while my mind instantly plays the faded images of last night. Timidness crawls through me as I wander my eyes all over the room and find a plate on the nightstand, two macaroons and a letter in it.
I smile reaching out for the plate and quickly stuffed a macaroon in my mouth.
Wear the dress and come out in the balcony.
The letter says, but I do not find any dress in here. Then magically, as I wrapped the sheet around me and stepped down the bed, I find a bag.
It's a red slit strap sundress.
I nibble my teeth in the cushion of my lower lip as timidness takes over. Things are finally getting right? Every of those words he said last night, the confession and everything.
God, I'm going to die.
I washed myself up and hurriedly got ready wearing the dress Nischay sent. The letter said to come out in the balcony, so I wormed my way out, assuming that Nischay would be there.
A chuckle left my lips as I see the sight before my eyes. The little lounge in the balcony is arranged into a date setup. Roses, candles in daylight, a mini cinema screen, red and white balloons. God, Nischay even set up a mini tent for us.
"Good morning."
I nearly flinch at the sudden voice in my ear, but soothed when the familiarly calming touch hugged me. Nischay wraps his arms around me, nuzzling his face in the back of my neck. "You sure you don't need rest, Zoya?" he mumbles slowly.
"Why would I need rest?"
"As if." Nischay turns me around, kissing my neck softly. He looks me in the eyes, pulls me close wrapping his arms around me. "I thought you were tired after what I did to you."
Asshole.
"Aww," I denied being flustered at his comment. "I appreciate your care. But I'm not tired." He wiggles his brows and nods his head in obedience.
Nischay breathes and presses his forehead against mine, brushes the hair from my neck. " Vaise, I was thinking if—
I shush him keeping a finger on his lips. Nischay's staring at me cluelessly, as I stand up on my toes and kissed his cheek. "Happy birthday, husband."
A smile cures Nischay's lips as he chuckles. "You remember?"
"How could I not?" I cock a brow at him. "I know you for twenty-eight years now."
