Morning breaks with a serene view, finding my husband before me. The fun fact was, Nischay was shirtless, and that his eyes were staring at me as if he was left with nothing else to do. Before any other thought crawls up my head, I notice the curls of his messed hair, his arm resting upon the pillow and his lips held up faintly.
Something has touched in his smile, or it was just another random thought.
"Slept good?" Nischay wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him slowly, and the faded visions of last night pooled through my head, setting my cheeks ablaze.
God, it must be a dream. It has to be.
I don't remember anything clearly, and I don't really think that Nischay would tell me anything. If whatever happened yesterday wasn't a dream but reality, I'm so fucked up. I don't remember how I reached home. Was all of it real or just another wet dream?
It doesn't seem important to ask anyway. But considering for a fact, why am I wearing his shirt when I really don't remember doing anything? Was I that drunk? Was that really not a dream?
God, I want to bury myself.
"Zoya?" Nischay suddenly mumbles, the hoarse rasp breaking my trance as I hummed to him. "Aren't you wondering about last night?"
I sink my teeth into the cushion of my lip, finding ways to run away from him. "Nope."
"Okay." He wasn't surprised. "Well, I do have questions for you."
Does that mean last night wasn't a dream? It was all—real?
"I have questions for you, too." I shove him away from me tenderly and looked into his eyes. "Infact, complains." I said, harsh. "Dozens of them."
I kinda tried to walk away from him, from this room but he's pulling me back every time.
"I know, darling." Nischay isn't worried. He's caressing my face and stroking my hair like it was fine either way. "But we can fix that out, right? I can be better for you."
A pang coils in my chest, and I suddenly turn feeble. "Tell me how does that explain you abandoning our first ever planned date?"
"It doesn't." Nischay mumbles slowly. "I know I'm so terribly at fault. I admit it, Zoya. But it was so sudden I swear to god. I didn't wanna leave."
He's stroking my face tenderly, softly. His hands are raveling in mine. Everything is suddenly so beautiful it nearly aches. "But you left anyway, Nischay." I whisper. "She was more important for you than us."
"You're wrong, Zoya." Nischay says, eyes wandering between mine possessively. "No one will ever be important for me than us."
"Easier said than done."
The shame left me for the night passed, what remained was pure despair.
"Sometimes, Nischay," I shudder as I look up at him. "I feel like I'm forcing everything on you. As if I'm the only one putting efforts into this relationship. Everything goes right for a month, then trips upside down in a moment all of a sudden. And then, just like that, gone."
"She's my cousin, Zoya, seriously. I see her as no one—
"But she doesn't, Nischay." a decibel raised in my voice certainly, my eyes crinkling water. "She doesn't see you as no one. You never know what she intends upon, being given of what she's done before."
I do not realize what I've said, until the realization hits and Nischay questions. "What has she done?" the cripple in his tone, rasp within his posture, terribly raging. "Did she say anything to you?" He says again.
"Doesn't matter—
"It does fucking matter, Zoya." Nischay is suddenly a blazing inferno, awaiting only a flicker of wrong ember.
"I've trusted you all along, Nischay." I grapple upon the weight of my ache, fingers momentarily brushing against his jaw. "I've trusted you blindly since the first day we'd met. I had been sure that you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. I hadn't expected anything in this marriage, yet you blossomed every joy in my life. And now for good when I'm awaiting a new dawn to blossom between us, you turn me down every time."
I gulp, hard and rough, the ache left so bruising it ripped off my throat. "Tell me how to trust you blindly now, Nischay. You promise to never hurt me again but hurt me anyway."
Nischay is smiling, a hurt one. A sight almost surreal.
He swallows hard, perhaps preparing himself to utter the heart-breaking words. I hurt him again, and I should've killed myself for this.
Forgetting a date wasn't a crime, was it? I shouldn't be hurt I thought. But then, Nischay.
"You have to trust me, Zoya." the hurt, quite familiarly visible in his eyes as he speaks. It's that unspoken ache I've seen in his eyes when he was unable to open up. Every time. "Because I'm trusting you, blindly even."
I chuckle, "That's maybe because I never have and never will do anything to hurt you or break your trust, Nischay."
"That's where you're wrong, love."
He's hurt. So hurt it almost kills me.
Nischay silently leaves me, starts to walk away, without explaining himself. But this time, my reflex attained my heart, my head.
"Do anything but leave, Nischay. Please." I beg him, lashes drenching as I held him close to me. He's stiff, angry, hurt and a lot more the way I see him silent.
"What do you want, Zoya. For real this time."
I wrap my arms around him, gripping him tight and being certainly sure of my words. "You, always and forever." I smile, look up at him and press a kiss to his jaw. "I want us in every universe."
Nischay chuckles, slowly pushing me away from him. "I highly doubt that."
He walks away into the closet silently and opens his cupboard. I follow him, because I need an answer. He can't deny my love just like that.
"What's this about seriously, Nischay?" I follow him everywhere, calling his name again and again but he ignores me. He grabs the towel and walks toward the bathroom. Now suddenly wanting to take a goddamn shower.
"Don't ignore me, asshole." I stand before him, pin him against the cupboard and look straight up into his eyes. "Talk to me." I grit my teeth, "Tell me what's hurting you and I'll fix it. I'll make myself better I promise."
"You're perfect, Zoya." Nischay chuckles and cups my cheek. "It's me who doesn't deserve you actually." He pushes past me and starts walking again.
"No." I shake my head following him. "Shut the fuck up and tell me the real thing."
He wouldn't listen.
"Tell me the truth, Nischay!" I yell for good, enraged by his stubbornness.
Nischay stops midway toward the bathroom, turns around and walk toward me. "You want to hear the truth, Zoya?" I shudder as he raised his voice abruptly, nearly bringing tears to my eyes. "You want to hear the truth when you are the one keeping things from me?"
Confusion clouded my brain. "What do you mean?" My voice barely a whisper.
Nischay's gaze lingered at my face before he tore it away, distracting himself to another corner. He heaved a sigh, seemed like what he wanted to say felt so heavy to him. "I didn't know you were still engaged to your past." He chuckles, looking anywhere but me.
As dots started to connect, my world crumbled.
A shudder crawled through me, eyes open wide, but tears couldn't fall. "You checked my phone?"
"Does that seem important now?" He chuckles as an attempt to hide the pain behind, looks away licking his lips that went dry. "Your phone was flooding with notifications, Zoya. But I'm sorry I shouldn't have invaded your privacy."
I could see the conversation going nowhere. One wrong move, and everything was at the edge of going downhill. I didn't want our us to end. Not due to a fucking misunderstanding.
Rudra was messaging me from the past two weeks, it was true. I'd blocked him but every time he would get a new number. The truth was I never felt like talking about this to Nischay, thought it would bring him in self-doubt, hurt him or cause trouble in our marriage. But here we were, having everything at the verge of breaking down.
I shake my head as tears rolled down. "I wasn't talking to him, Nischay." my steps trembled as I walked to him, legs suddenly leaden. "I didn't reply to any of his texts."
"But you didn't even tell me he was messaging you, Zoya." A growl rips off his chest, voice trembled, aching. "I really thought we had something between us."
"We do, Nischay. I love you." I reach out my hand to hold him, but he avoids me. The demeanor felt like an arrow to my chest.
He's hurt, so hurt.
"Tell me where I've failed, Zoya." Nischay walks closer to me, slowly. His steps so shrewd, long and I'm stiffly frozen, until I'm preyed under him and the closet door, trapped. "I have always wanted to keep you like a butterfly in my heart, not like a caged bird desperate to escape."
Each word a shard of glass, sharp and jagged, rips through my heart.
He keeps his hand at the side of my face, my eyes witnessing how cruelly the pain wrenched within him. "I would've killed for you, Zoya. For us. Hell, I would've killed even myself than to witness you with a man that's not me."
I'm drowning suddenly, even in the air. Unable to breathe.
"Nischay—
A desperate cry spilled out my throat but faded before it reached him. My hands, fingers dying to touch him, but he wouldn't let me.
"I'm fucking in love with you, Zoya." He dips his head down, skims his nose along my neck, his breath shuddering. " But tell me you still have feelings for that asshole, and I'll set you free of this meaningless relationship."
It was one last sentence before he pulls back, forcing me to think if I really wanted that. I wanted to hold his hand and tell him to stay, but I didn't.
My heart breaks, so as the room as Nischay breaks away and leaves me alone in the quandary. I cripple down and hug my knees, trembling.
Everything has suddenly turned upside down, as if we were never meant to be together. It seems like everything I do is either wrong or not good enough.
You're a goddamned idiot, Zoya.
— Days have passed to that incident, our first fight to be literal. But I'm still angry with Zoya. She could've told me about Rudra. I could finish him off for the rest of life but nope, she couldn't trust me. I know I had overreacted that day in anger. It regretted me a lot later, I could've taken things more calmly.
After all, things were never served on a golden plate to us. I should've been more responsible. But that didn't change the fact that Zoya kept a secret from me. I know she loves me, a truth no star in this universe could disprove. But she needs to realize her mistake, and she needs punishment for it.
Since that day, my little wife has been doing everything in her power to make amends for what she's done. She comes home early at night, prepares my favorite dinner—not forgetting the mango custard I so dearly love, keeps talking to me regardless of the fact that I don't even reply to her, makes me her pillow while sleeping over me, sends me a bunch of flowers in a day—god, my employes tease me so much I turn flustered and I fucking hate it.
The best part was that I didn't need to ask Zoya for kisses, she showered me with them. And it made me wonder if I should carry on this pretend play for the rest of my life. At least I wouldn't have to beg for kisses from my very own wife.
"Hey, asshole."
I roll my eyes and tilt my head, only to find Zoya standing before me looking none less than a white swan.
Bless my eyes.
"I told you to get ready ten minutes ago, and yet you haven't even moved an inch." She scolds, her hands on her hips and her brows furrowed in complain.
Little miss thinks she intimidates me.
"Excuse me." I said coldly and closed my eyes back. "I was too busy lying on my bed, I didn't hear you."
"Well, well." She says, and two seconds later, the blanket is pulled off my body.
"What the hell, Zoya?"
"Go take a shower and get ready." She says unbothered, folding the blanket and keeps it away in the closet so I couldn't get it back.
"What's your problem, seriously? I'm not talking to you."
"Stop being a kid, Nischay." She says, seriously annoyed. "I've ironed your kurta, you only have to wear it. Go take a shower and get ready. Everyone's waiting for you. "
"Who the hell are you to order me?" I roll my eyes and fall back on the bed. "I'm not gonna play colors with you anyway."
"I'm not telling you to." Zoya walks closer to me, the clinkering bells of her payal nearly having me in possession but I still manage to keep my eyes closed. The bed beside me sinks suddenly and I feel her hovering me.
She's lying upon my chest now. Of course she is.
"You've already painted me with your color, haven't you?" I try hard not to smile. No, I couldn't fall for her words. It's a trap, Nischay.
God, save me from this woman.
"You're not gonna look at me?" Zoya leans her head on my chest, brushes her hand over my face, my eyes, my lips. "Really, Nischay?" She sounds aw so innocent I almost fall for it. "Holi hai aaj, patidev. Kamsekam aaj toh pyaar karlo apni biwi se." She complains but plants her lips to my jaw, softly.
God, I'm going hard in the very morning.
Help me.
Silence descends for some time. Zoya doesn't say anything. But five seconds later, she is back with another command. "Help me tie my blouse." She says, "Don't say you can't fucking do that too." She gets up from me and grabs my arm, trying me pull me up. "Come on, don't be sloth, Nischay."
I heave a sigh and get up from the bed, secretly smiling at her adorable efforts.
A delighted smile lingered on Zoya's lips as she happily turned around pushing her hair forward, allowing me to see her smooth bare back.
I almost kiss it.
"Say when it's too tight." I whisper to her coldly and take the strings of her blouse together, tying them in a firm knot, but then tightened them a little more. "Ouch!" Zoya grunts, her back arches. "The fuck are you being so rough, asshole?" She scowls.
But to her interpretation, being the bastard I am, I tighten the knot even more. "Nischay!" She moans again, and pleasure coated my bones.
The smirk lingered upon my lips but faded before Zoya turned around to look at me. Her eyes, stern and intense, heavy like the plain white lehnga she is wearing. "That's a very sadistic and utterly wrong way to make me moan your name, husband."
Of course, she can see right through me.
"What are you gonna do about it?" I lean down to her lips, my gaze intensely locked with hers.
Apparently, it turns out I forgot I angry with her.
Zoya is suddenly flustered, her cheeks heating up in a scarlet hue. "Wear your outfit." She avoids the question, pulls herself back and looks away awkwardly. "Anyway, I don't care if you want to come or not."
Zoya runs out of the room before I'm able to reach out for her again.
I give up and follow my wife's command, take a shower and wear the ethnics she left for me.
"Nischay, listen to me. Your friends—
Fifteen minutes later after being gone, Zoya—for some reason— comes back again. An unknown thing has made her stop in between her sentence. And she can't take her eyes off me.
"What's wrong?" I ask furrowing my brows as I fixed the collar of my white kurta. "Am I looking bad?"
"Idiot." Zoya says, "Have you ever looked bad?"
She grapples upon the weight of her skirt and walked to me.
"Itne bade ho gaye ho par kapde pehnna bhi nahi aata." She says, starting to do the cuffs for me. I can't stop looking at her, while every tiniest bit of her focus stays at her will.
"Stop looking at me like I'm dinner." Zoya mumbles under her breath. Of course, she feels my eyes every time I look at her secretly.
"Maybe, I'm hungry."
"Stop." She steps back, flustered, wasn't in a mood to play right now. "You need to come with me." She grabs my hand and starts dragging me along with her.
"Where?" I pause on my steps and look at her.
"I need your help." Zoya says, and tension rose in my shoulders. Before I ask, 'what's wrong?' she says, "Your friends are so dirty." I furrow my brows, she continues. "I can't bear them, they're so humiliating. Disgusting."
"My friends?" I ask again, remembering every person I've ever been friendly to. Couldn't think of even a single one. "What happened actually?"
Zoya presses her lips together, licks them. "They—they played a dirty song—aur itne gande gande ishare kar rahe the. Main toh bata bhi nahi sakti."
"What dirty song?"
"Voh—" Zoya tries to remember. " Voh, bheege honth tere, pyaasa dil mera...voh vala."
Fury coiled into my gut like an inferno raging within.
"The guys you're saying—did they did this to you?" I ask her, and she nods her head.
"What would you do now?" Zoya asks, brows lurking with worry.
"Probably drown them in a pool of their own blood."
I leave the room, followed by Zoya and went straight where the celebrations were going on. I could be ignoring my wife, but that didn't mean I'd spare someone who dared to abuse her verbally. Whoever it is, claiming themselves to be my so-called friend, I swear to God they're dead at my hands today. Or the least they'd lose would be their eyes and hands because they—
"HAPPY HOLI!"
Vibrant colors spread in the air as everyone shouted, the ground and I myself, now a kaleidoscope. From head to toe, I was bathed in colors now. Green, blue, red, yellow, pink. God, I look like a cartoon.
I only stay with an ugly expression on my face while everyone else tortured me.
"Oye hoye jiju, how so clean?" Reya walked toward me, a notorious smirk plastered on her lips.
This was all a master-freaking-plan.
When everyone's done with me, I turn around to meet Zoya, her face bearing the widest smile I've ever seen. I walk toward her, and her laugh fades slowly, remaining into only a flustered smile.
"Enjoying the view, huh?" I smile reaching out my hand to fill my hands with gulal.
Zoya takes her steps back slowly as I approached her, her hands back as a smirk lingers on her lips. "I thought someone didn't want to play colors with me."
"Yes," I said, "But I'm drowned in colors myself, so that's okay."
"Asshole." A chuckle left her lips before she turns around to leave but I reach out my hand and grab her dupatta, pulling her back to my chest. "I wouldn't mind painting you with my colors, love."
"You've done it enough times." She whispers, secretly trying to let go of my grip.
"Really?" I hold her firm, remembering the times I've made love to her. All damn nights. I wrap an around her waist, trapping her into my arms and whisper into her ear. "Well. I wouldn't mind doing it again."
"Oh, is it." Zoya mumbles, her grin mocking my love. "I am not going to fall for your trap." In a second, somehow, she is out of my grip and flips our positions.
"Zoya—
The word is barely out of my mouth, and she showers me with colors, her delighted laughter echoing in my ears like music. "Try again, husband." She giggles.
This woman.
"Come here." I reach my hand out to grab her, but someone stands like a fucking wall between us before I could.
"How is it going, brother?" Shefali, of course it had to be her.
I look at Zoya, staring at us, me precisely. Her eyes so blazing she could burn me alive. Oh god, the jealousy. I hate it as much I love it.
"Better luck next time." Zoya smiles at me in sarcasm and storms off in anger, before I'm able to hold her back.
I roll my eyes in frustration and open my mouth to bomb my sister with cusses—
"Bura na mano, holi hai." Shefali laughs, smearing gulal all over my face before I could say a word to her. "I hope this year brings good to you." The only good thing was, that she left after her melodrama.
There is a reason I hate this festival.
"BHAI!" My trance breaks when Tanmay leans over me, wraps an arm around my shoulder and torrents me with colors. Again.
"God, when would you grow up?" I wipe my face with the sleeve of my kurta, not realizing its bathed in colors too.
I'm so done.
Tanmay has a glass with him, and he seems so happy while drinking it. This boy was always a sunshine energy. He's bathed in colors, wet and doesn't even care. "We didn't have Thandai here."
Tanmay arched an eyebrow, "Apparently, we have. I bribed a guy to manage bhang in the party. Almost caused a conflict with Reya over this." he was dazed with the effect.
"You fucking corrupted the drinks?" I furrow my brows in disbelief.
"Yes." Tanmay stays unbothered, drinks half of the glass in a single breathe. "Bhang ke bina holi bhi holi hoti hai?" He wasn't ashamed of his deeds, and Zoya said I was immoral.
I blink in surprise, my nose scrunching in disgust. "You're impossible." I mutter under my breath and tear my gaze away from him to somewhere searching for Zoya. The best thing was that I could find her anywhere in a crowd, because she always stood out.
A smile appears on my face as I watched her playing with Avi. He was running after her with the water gun in an attempt to drench her. But this woman was a player. I still remember how I and Zoya used to make our own teams on Holi, and she would always win.
Jesus, people must be thinking I'm insane. How do I stop smiling at her?
"Bhai," Tanmay mumbles as I looked at him annoyed. "Don't you think Bhabhi looks a little to clean?"
As I listened to him, I distract my gaze from him to Zoya, dancing with happiness with Avi. For real, she is untouched by colors while I'm bathed in them from head to toe. Unfair.
Tanmay wraps an arm around my shoulder, leaning almost of his weight over me. "Come on bhai, chug up a glass, show her what you're capable of. Don't be a coward." I look at him with a frown when he offers a glass the to me. "Holi ke din apni biwi ko rang nahi lagaoge toh kise lagaoge?"
Now that I think, it's a straight humiliation to my ego.
"Of course," I snap my head to look at Tanmay, his face frowning when I deny his offer. "But I don't need your downer drink for anything."
I smile at him, sarcasm dripping like honey. Tanmay shrugs his shoulders. "As you wish."
I mend my way toward my wife, having a firm will to shower her with own colors once again, but unfortunately, I'm stopped by an approach.
Mom and dad, of course, my parents.
Maa showers me with loads and loads of blessings as I hugged her, applying a little color to my cheeks. I then turn to dad, leaning to touch his feet but he instead engulfs me in a bone crashing hug. "Jaldi se dada dadi bana de humein."
Dad was always dad.
I realize I've lost Zoya meanwhile talking to them. After five minutes of searching, I find her near the pool, still busy playing with Avi.
"Chach, you're dead!" Avi says, aiming his gun at Zoya while she moved backwards with a determined smirk on her face. "Oh my god, I'm going to die, aren't I?'
She laughs, and strangely, I did too while watching them from afar. I can't understand how Avi hasn't been able to throw colors on her for once. She's still clean.
"Avi, don't come close." Zoya shakes her head while smiling, her steps moving backwards in absolute determination, and I'm smiling and smiling until she pushes a woman in the pool.
Oops. The woman was my very cousin.
"I—" Zoya tried to suppress her laugh. "I'm sorry, Shefali. I didn't see." She pretended as if it was all a misinterpreted accident.
God, she was so evil for this.
Avi and Zoya give a high five, bursting in laughter. She bribed this kid into her plan too? Oh fuck.
I shake my head in disbelief, secretly smiling at her vile plan.
Avi went with his friends, and I pull Zoya in a corner as soon as I get the chance. I dragged her away from the crowd and pressed her against a pillar, trapping her under me.
"What the fuck?" Her eyes nearly jump out of their sockets as I pin her arms above her head, locking her fingers with mine.
"You think no one saw that?" I whisper arching a brow at her, my gaze intense and sharp. But Zoya, being my wife, looks away to avoid me. "I don't know what you're talking about."
There was a long pause before I uttered, "Really?"
Shades of crimson painted her cheeks as I leaned closer.
"Zoya," All most of her face fills into my palm as I hold her, and slowly make her look into my eyes. "Do not pretend that you're some innocent little girl when I see that vicious mind working behind your eyes."
"Bold of you to assume you can see my whole mind in its works." She blinks, releases a sharp breath, a smirk dancing on her beautiful lips. "Actually, Nischay. You are a coward" She presses a finger at my chest while leaning closer, her eyes piercing mine without hesitation. "Sirf baaton ke shehenshah ho tum."
She nudges me away with her hands and walks past me. I was so stupid to find this demeanor of hers as graceful and bold, couldn't guess how she always got away with it like child's play.
"Don't be an idiot, Nischay." My subconscious mocked, "Go and bath her into your colors."
She fucking dared to humiliate my ego.
I fill my lungs into a determined breath and mend my way toward Zoya, who walked in the gallery smeared with colors, seeming no less than a Greek princess.
My grip on her wrist comes hard, rough and firm before she's able to step out of my sight and I press her against the wall, my body towering hers like an impenetrable defense.
"What was that you said again?" I reach my hand out to grab a fistful of gulal from the plate kept aside on a table while she's trying to form words in my possession.
Zoya again presses a finger at my heart, stares into my eyes and spats right at my face, unashamed. "I said you are a—
I lose my patience and grab her hands, flipping her over in the bat of an eye until she's on her front, her cheek pressed against the wall. My grip on her hands stays congealed, barely allowing her to move. "You do not want to repeat that, love." I whisper, my voice a velvet-lined threat to her insolence.
The air suddenly stutters, draping itself into a thick curtain of untold despondence, burdened by voracity as I hold her to me, pressed against my chest. Zoya shudders as I brush her hair out of the way and slather her back with the gulal, painting her body in a new shade, mine.
"Let's pretend for a moment that I'm not angry from you." I whisper in her ear, dipped my head low and planted my lips to her bare back. "Now do me a favor and be my sweet little wife that you are."
Loosening my grip on her wrists, I whipped us around, Zoya now pressed between the wall and me.
"I'm tired of pretending." Zoya released a tired breath, her eyes deeply staring into mine. "I can't go another day choking back 'I love you', Nischay." She reached out to fill her hands with the gulal, and applied it over my cheeks. Her eyes softening as she placed her hands at my chest. "I feel it in my shoulders when I breathe."
I lean down to her face and rub my cheek against hers, warm and soft, now painted with a color resembling the crimson in our love. "You know I'm not really angry with you." I press my lips against her neck, nearly erasing the very last ounce of air remained for her to breathe.
"Doesn't matter." Zoya whispers. "I still miss you, regardless of the fact that you were never gone. I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly." Her shoulders relaxed, back arching as I nuzzle my face deeper into her neck.
"Make it easier then." A gasp escapes Zoya's lips as I bite her collarbone. "Beg me to fuck you and I gladly would."
Silence descended, heavier than the tension growling in the air.
"No." Refusal came out unanticipated from Zoya's mouth, coated in pride. "I've made enough efforts to persuade you." She says and keep me at an estimated distance of four steps away from her. "But here, husband. It's your turn."
My drama had come to a great conclusion, leaving a great time to enjoy with Zoya was a very stupid idea.
"Tell me." I end the distance in two long strides and wrap an around her waist, pushing her up against the wall. "What do you want me to do for you, wife?"
Zoya seemed to lose her potential to breathe as I held her close, but still cocked an eyebrow and smiled faintly. "Make a bet." She challenges me literally. "The one who kisses the other first loses." she smirks in confidence.
"And what does the winner get?"
"Whatever he wishes, once."
I see how this is going.
"Then be ready to lose, wife."
"Never." She cocks a brow, pushes past me and walks out elegantly.
I know how big of an egoistic narcissist I am but there's no way I'm letting Zoya win in this. I will gladly be on my knees for her, but she has to make the first move.
Zoya is going to kiss me first, I'm sure of it. I know my wife more than anyone else.
.
.
Ten minutes later, Zoya has disappeared. I've searched the whole party, but she was nowhere. Neither Tanmay knew where she went nor Reya. No one knew, as if she just vanished in the air.
"Where is your Chachi?" I ask Avi, being left with no options.
He arches a brow at me, sipping the lemonade—I don't know from where he got—and then showed me a hand.
Hell no, this little boy would never do anything for free.
"Fine, what do you want?" I roll my eyes at him.
"I saw the latest model of tyrannosaurus in mumma's phone last night. You know chachu? He even roars and walks on his own." His eyes brightened as he told me.
I release a sigh. "I'll get you it." I say, and Avi hugs me smiling widely. "You're the best, Chachu."
"Haan haan, Now tell me where your Chachi is."
He nods his head slowly and points afar. "She can't stop drinking that."
I move my gaze to where Avi was pointing, my eyes nearly widening when I see Zoya going out of her own control. "Holy shit."
I leave everything else and run to her, but too late. She's on the stage, and the mic is in her hands.
Shit, shit, shit.
"Ladies and Gentlemen., attention please." Zoya makes an announcement, barely able to stand still. "I have something very important to tell you all. It might make your jaw drop. You will be like, 'oh my fucking hell!'"
God, there's no way she's saying that onstage.
"So, the thing is. I have accidentally made a bet." She pouts sadly, "You know to whom?" she laughs, just this away from spilling up a terrible secret. Things that shouldn't be disclosed.
"Me and my husband, we are in a huge con—
She didn't get the rest of her words out as I jumped on the stage on time and snatched the mic from her hands. "What do you think you're doing?" I stare at her, holding her falling body in my arms.
"Awww." Zoya leans closer and squeezes my cheeks together. "Who is this handsomely gorgeous man?" she pouts adorably as her eyes dazed and chuckles looking at me.
I couldn't care less about whoever in the world was watching or laughing at us, but handling my drunk wife seemed more important to me right now.
"Listen, prince charming." Zoya cups my cheeks together and tugs me in. "You're very pretty, but I can't risk your life." She says, sniffles. "Have you seen my angry young husband? He would chop you into pieces and feed them to the wolves." She shakes her head, smiles widely shaking her head. "But don't worry. He only loves me a little more than enough. He's not crazy."
God, please make her mine in every life.
"Come with me." I grabbed her hand to take her out of here.
"Nope." Zoya shakes her head, pulls her hand out of my hold. "I've to ask for help." She scrunches her nose, furrowing her brows cutely. "I have to win him back. My Nischay."
"You don't have to win him back." I murmur, suppressing my smile. "He's an asshole anyway."
"Only I get to call him that. How dare you!" She keeps her hands at her hips and points her finger at me, eyeing me angrily. "Whoever you are, Mr. handsome. You're dead now."
"Shut up, wife."
I ignore her words like the sharpness of a paper, and grabbed her hand again allowing my grip to be enough firm that I did not care if she had to bite my hand to free herself. Zoya does not say anything. Precisely, I did not permit her to open her little mouth.
I drag her upstairs, not missing to notice her futile attempts to release from my hold and shelter ourselves into our bedroom for good.
Zoya crashes into the bed the second I release her from my hold. I sense her moving around, probably searching for a way out of this room so she could escape from the forced will.
"Who do you think you are?" Zoya bellows, "This is my bedroom, you creep. Agar mere pati ko pata cha gaya na ki tune mera hath pakda, toh voh chhodega nahi—
"Hosh mein aayegi?" I press her against the wall and stare deep into her eyes while my hand covered her mouth firmly.
She moved her eyes all over my face, until I see my own reflection in them. Her chest, heaving with tension calms down eventually as her gaze softens.
I remove my hand from her mouth, and she breathes immediately, a whisper escaping her lips. "Nischay?"
My name from her mouth felt like a jewel. For no reason, I felt myself aroused, just at her voice.
"Oh my god." Zoya cups my cheeks with her hands while I'm still trying to feign the violent wave of desire erupting deep within me. "It's you. My husband." Zoys smiles, wrapping her arms around me as she leaned closer.
"You're not sober, Zoya" I said holding her still as she was falling upon me. She was clearly losing her mind, all credit to Tanmay. "You need rest, wife."
"No, I need you, husband." She cups my cheeks together and tugs me closer to her. Her eyes move across mine, as if she was searching something in them.
She slowly pulls my face closer to hers, causing me to do nothing but lean in. I was aware of the fact that even she doesn't have an idea what she is doing. She captivates me, and this wasn't the first time. There were times when she got drunk and lost her senses.
Closer and closer she pulls me in until there is just a wall of thin air between us. The tension grows so high I could even hear our hearts racing. Beating so wildly like they would collide any second. Blood rushes through my veins like I am going to have a heart attack.
She hugs me close and leaned down, only to plant her lips on my neck. She kisses there softly, once, and then I feel her bite my skin. The act only brings a prideful smirk on my face, and I hated how I was loving this.
I love her dominion over me.
"You're not sane, Zoya." I whisper but she seemed too occupied and turned on to give a fuck.
"Who cares." She whispers, her voice sounding undesirably erotic as she brushed her lips all over me, up against my neck and chest and shoulders, painting my skin with the shade of her lipstick. "You never listen to me while fucking me. I won't too."
"You're going to fuck me?"
I bite back a groan as she peppered kisses at my jaw, her lips lingering at the corner of my mouth. "Maybe." she whispers.
Maybe.
Then she kisses me passionately, and all of my devotion turns violent. Her mouth moves over mine, her lips painting mine into a color of their own and I realize I've been starving for days, for her. The kiss suddenly felt like the needed drop of blood onto my burning altar of desperation.
But this was wrong. She was drunk.
"Don't make it hard for me, Zoya." I break the kiss and close my eyes and release a breath, my fingers brushing against her back, wildly desiring to pull open the strings of her blouse. "You don't know what you're doing."
"I do know what I'm doing, Nischay." She yanks her hands away from my grip, her face upsetting. "The truth is, you're still after that fight, and you lie about loving me."
"No." My grip on her wrist comes rough, hard and calloused. I pull her back into my arms, pressing her close to my chest. My heart raced, chest heaving as her own breath seemed to vanish as I connected my forehead with hers.
I cup her cheek with my hand, the other resting at the small of her back. And I bury my face into her cheek, losing all of myself into her. "Don't ever doubt my love for you, Zoya. It's the only thing I'm sure of."
With all due feelings I had said it, and yet silence clung to the air, heavy and sinking.
Zoya nuzzles her face into the curve of my neck, and fuming blood rushes to my cock when she sucked onto my flesh again. "Then don't be a jerk and let me use what rightfully belongs to me." She whispers, her hands now unbuttoning the buttons of my kurta.
"Of course, wife." I lowered my voice as my breath tickled her ear, and a shiver rolled through her. "Use your husband."
Zoya smiles widely, her eyes falling close as her mouth meets mine in a bruised kiss. "I love you, you know it?" She says, smiling and giggling into my mouth, and it blossomed my chest with fireworks to know how happy she was with me.
God, I've never wanted more than this.
"I do, baby. I do."
And as I fill her into my arms and take her to bed, I wondered if she knew that I'd always be this tender for her and that these arms, these arms with never, ever hurt her.