All Strings Attached

Chapter Thirty Four

"Dhushyanth!" I hear a female voice exclaim, and trace the source to a small, chubby, middle-aged woman who looks beyond happy to see my husband.

She gives him a side hug, and looks at me, her hand coming up to caress my face. "Is this your wife? Hid her away from all of us for so long," she complains, and pinches my cheek. "Sita kada, nee peru?"

I nod meekly, looking at my husband to beg for an introduction, as I reply, "yes, aunty."

"This is Prashanth's mum, Vineetha Aunty."

I smile fully, nodding and memorising her name.

"Come, come, come, we were waiting for you two to start," aunty says, pulling us further into the house until we reach the massive open space; too big to be called a balcony, but calling it a terrace would be a shame to how well it's decorated with flower pots, a pergola, which is decorated with a variety of white flowers, under which the woman of the hour sits, her pregnant belly and silk saree being her only giveaways. Her jewellery is minimal, a small necklace and a matching pair of earrings, and wrists adorned with bangles that match the rest of her outfit.

I decide I like Deeksha's taste, knowing no man could ever pick something so subtle and elegant, exuding her expensive taste, but maintaining the simplicity of the event.

"Dhushaynth and his wife are here!" Vineetha aunty announces to the crowd. Prashanth, who I've just noticed is sitting right next to his wife on the swing, stands up to walk over to us.

He gives Dhushyanth a hug, slapping his back as he pulls away, and looks at me with the widest grin. "Hi, bhabhi," he greets happily. "We haven't met before, thanks to your husband's very busy schedule, but I'm glad you guys could make it today. Deeksha was really excited to meet you."

I grin back at him. "Abhi and Dhushyanth missed you loads at the campaign," I tell Prashanth, "they'd remember you every night, especially the nights with fish curry."

"I love the fish curry they make at your house," he exclaims, and I'm confused when he'd ever eaten at our house until I realise he means our house— the house I share with Dhushyanth and his family— "we've shamelessly fought over the last piece of fish, Dhushyanth, Abhi and I."

I chuckle, nodding, "I've heard," I reply, hoping my confusion wasn't too evident on my face.

"Deeksha, look who's here," Prashanth sings to his wife, who turns away with a huff.

"Late ga vachaaru," she complains, "pelli ayinappati nundi, vadina ni dhaachipettukunnaaru, inni nelalu nunchi okka call ledu, message ledu." [You're late. You've hidden vadina away since you wedding, you've not called or messaged once in so many months.]

I raise my brows at Dhushyanth, amused at how comfortable Deeksha is with him.

"Rathri varaku ikkade untaam," he promises, "nenu dhaachipettukunte dhaagipothunda mee vadina, see she's here too. And I was so busy with the campaign— nenu kada alagaali, naa first campaign ki nuvvu raaledu ani." [We'll stay here until night. Do you think your Vadina will stay hidden away if I try to hide her? See, she's here too. And I was so busy with the campaign— shouldn't I be the upset one that you didn't come to my first ever campaign?]

"She's pregnant," I exclaim, nudging him. "You can't make that argument."

"Exactly! See!" She cries out, "that's so inconsiderate— meeru asalu Anna laaga behave chesthunaara?" [Are you even behaving like an elder brother?]

"Neekosame vachaanu kada," he attemps to mollify her, "I had Mysore pak flown in for you, you know?"

"Really?" She asks, looking up at him expectantly.