All Strings Attached

Chapter Twenty-Five

Her eyes narrow. "No."

"Then you don't have to," I let her know, as is my duty as her husband, even if it disappoints me.

Sita sighs, and holds my hand that rests on her stomach, linking my fingers with hers. "What do you want?"

"I want you to be happy."

I hear her chuckle, softly. "If I fall too fast and too hard, I'll make it your problem."

I find my heart pacing up at her words. Too fast? She's three years too late, if anything. Too hard? I'm already down too bad for her, she couldn't possibly fall harder with me already there to cushion the fall.

"Huh?" I find myself voicing.

"Huh?" She repeats, almost mockingly. "Move back, a little," she says, "I need more space."

"Space from—"

"Space on the bed, Reddy," she stresses, not letting me continue.

I laugh, moving back so she can rest on her back. Sita narrows her eyes at me. "Asalu ready ga unnaadu drama cheyadaniki," she comments, pinching my cheek. "Sleep for a bit, you can be dramatic later." [He's so ready to bring the drama.]

Grinning, I relax onto the pillow, ready to nap, and Sita holds my hand, letting it rest on her stomach as she falls into a slumber.

I kiss her shoulder, holding her close to me, passing a silent prayer to god, asking for the ability to provide my wife with everything she deserves, to help me become a man that makes her effortlessly happy.

~.~.~.~.~

Author

In the evening, Sita sets out to campaign, alongside her husband, folding her hands at everyone she sees, yet, distant from the media and the cameras.

The bodyguards around the couple focus all their attention on keeping the media personnel away from the newly wedded Reddy bride, and Sita appreciates the effort, silently thanking her husband through her gestures.

She sits among groups of women, conversing with them about crops and textiles, kids and education, plugging in her husband and his visions wherever appropriate as they chat and share laughs.

Dhushyanth moves between groups, hands folded humbly, as he asks for the people's support.

The people let themselves be charmed by the young couple, who move amongst the villagers with ease and respect, caring themselves with humility.

A sense of adoration is evident between the couple when they are around each other, grinning at their company and sharing secretive smiles between themselves.

"Ma'am," a reporter calls Sita, continuing to hound her, with his repeated hollering, causing the young woman to frown with annoyance. "Ma'am, ma'am, ma'am," he continues noisily until she turns to spare him a look.

Knowing Miss Cherukuri, this reporter's sense of achievement at getting under her skin isn't going to last long enough.

Sita grimaces, thinking she shouldn't have let him get to her, but after an entire evening of socialising and walking, her strength and willpower have run out.

The reporter is quick to ask his question: "can you please clarify the circumstances of your marriage, ma'am?" he asks, quickly.

Sita's ears warm up. "What circumstances?"

"Your marriage seems rushed," the reporter lets on. "There are rumours that you are pregnant," he continues, causing her face to heat up at the implication.