The next morning, I woke up a bit later than usual. I was used to waking up with a smile. Every morning I would roll out of bed and wish 'good morning' to my younger sister. I’ve called Kavya ‘Betu’ for as long as I can remember. Even though she is younger than me, she always got up earlier than I could.
With closed eyes, and a blissful, sleepy yawn I forgot the bleak reality of the last few days. “Good morning Betu.”
The voice that returned the greeting was not that of my sweet baby sister. And it dragged me back to the present with a whiplash-inducing jerk. “Good morning Kriti ji, was it comfortable for you last night?”
I sat up, quickly, when I heard his voice and remembered that I'm married now, and I'm in his house, in this man’s room. “Sorry, Arnav ji.” I couldn’t manage to properly open my eyes until then.
“Sorry for what? Kriti ji, as far as I know wishing someone good morning is not an offense.”
“No, you’re right.” I adjusted my satin robe as I started to look for my phone, and then remembered that I had left it on that small table beside the washroom last night. “It's not.”
“Then, why are you sorry?”
I paused for a moment, wondering how honest I should be. “Because I called you Betu. I wish Kavya a good morning every day, but now…” I trailed off avoiding his gaze. I didn’t complete my sentence. I had begun to miss Kavya already. Her sweet voice and our endless talks which used to irritate me when I lived with her, I was now longing for them.
“It's okay, call her if you want to.” He offered me his phone. As soon as I took the phone I couldn’t stop myself from watching him. He was already dressed for the day standing in front of a tall mirror, sealed by wooden casing, kept by the wall, he was wearing a plain black, full-sleeved shirt, the top two buttons opened, showing a tiny part of his muscular chest and light wash blue jeans. Shubhangi had been right, any woman would swoon over him. It was now that my eyes actually fell upon that perfectly chiseled jawline. His five-feet-ten inches of the well-built body looked dashing in the outfit.
He's good-looking.
When I looked down at his phone in my hand I saw the time and failed to contain a cry of shock. “Oh my God! It's 8:30, I should not have stayed in bed so long. Arnav ji, why didn't you wake me up? Oh God, now my in-laws are going to think I’m lazy. And they are going to complain to my mother!” I was panicking. What can I say? I’m a panicker. I’ve always been like that. When I had an exam at school I used to panic and just make it even worse as I forgot most of the important points minutes before going into the examination hall.
“Kriti ji,” he paused. I was out of bed by then and when he called my name I just looked at him. He was staring at me with his eyes wide open, a blank expression. I stared back and my mind had already begun conjuring images of me being scolded by Maa.
“Yes?”
“What do you eat?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“What do you eat,” he repeated his utterly ridiculous question, “that gives you the energy to talk like this? Do you have a special diet? Or some kind of supplement? You seem to do this a lot, you start uttering nonsense and can’t stop.”
“But, I…” He interrupted me before I could form a sentence.
“It's okay if you get up late. No one will scold you for it. Don't worry so much.”
“But are you sure Maa won't be angry?”
“Yes. I'm sure. I used to sleep in all the time. She’s never said a word.”
“You are her son. I'm the daughter-in-law.” His face showed absolute confusion when I repeated my last words, “daughter-in-law.”
“So, what?”
“You won't understand.” I ripped a saree out from the cabinet and rushed into the washroom. I was flustered, and in my distress forgetful. I repeated that very move twice more, grabbing my towel the first time, and my soap the next. After watching me scramble, he stepped close to me, halting my progress toward the shower, and curled his fingers around my wrist. He touched me for the first time. At that moment, I stared into his eyes, and really, truly saw them. They were deep…as deep as an ocean. And they were telling me something, but I didn’t know what that was.
“It's okay, I said na, no one will say anything to you. Don't be so worried. I'm here. I will be with you.”
I continued looking into his ocean eyes, and I could feel my heart-stopping. I could just manage, “promise?”
“Promise,” he said and smiled. That small, sweet smile felt like heaven. His 'promise' convinced me, and I could breathe again, but I still couldn’t think of what to say to him. Not even ‘thank you’ would penetrate the fog in my head. With every passing second, I was being hypnotized. His fingers around my wrist felt soft but firm. That first touch sent shock waves down my spine. His touch was hesitant as if he was trying to read if that touch was acceptable to me. As if looking deep into my eyes, he sought my permission. Silence crept across the room. I hated the way it ended, though. His phone rang, and he let go of my hand. I stepped away from him feeling shy.
What the hell were we doing?
He took the call, his voice husky when he answered, “yes, Mr. Kumar,” a pause. “I will be there for our 11:30 meeting.”
I turned away from him to afford him some privacy and went to search through my suitcases again, collecting my face wash, shampoo, conditioner, and toothbrush. The call ended abruptly, and he strode toward my crouching form. When he shoved the phone back into his pocket, I found him staring at me in amused confusion.
“What?”
“How did you fit all that crap in there?” He peeked over my shoulder at my overstuffed bag. The sarcastic face was back, I didn’t know how this man shifted from one disposition to another so quickly. “It’s like there’s no bottom. How many things do you need to shower, Kriti ji?”
“Areeee, never seen a woman’s bag before? I’m a woman. We can’t just shower with soap, there are other things that need to be taken care of. See this one is shampoo, used for washing hair, you might know that. This is the conditioner, used after shampoo,” I said pointing to the different bottles one by one and speaking slowly as if I were explaining advanced mathematics to a child. I held up my favorite body lotion. I loved its fresh wild flowery scent.
“And the body lotion, sadly, is almost gone.” I was in true distress. “I will have to buy a new one.”
Arnav looked horrified.
“I don't need to see the full range of your cosmetics. Why do girls put so much makeup on?” He ridiculed all the females of the world with just one comment.
“Hello! This isn't makeup. It's just skincare.”
“Why do you need all of that? What’s the problem with the normal soap? We men are far better off than you women are. We don't need so many things to look handsome. Just soap and water that's it. Natural beauty.”
“Hmmm.” I gave my chin a tap as though I was actually considering his bizarre notion. “That is clearly why it was called Beauty and the Beast.”
“Now what is that?” his voice filled with utter confusion.
I took pity on him, “You don’t know about Disney movies? Damn, your childhood was lame.”
He shook his head. “You are—” he stopped himself and just looked at me with an adorable grin, making me blush from inside. “Forget it. Leave all this,” he gestured to my bags. “I have to get to a meeting today.”
“Yes, at 11:30. I heard.”
He smiled at me in that wicked way I was coming to expect from him. “Don't listen to other people’s conversations. Bad habit.”
I frowned “I wasn't! I—” he interrupted me before I could finish.
“See? Again with the talking. You’re going to make us both late.”
“Yes, but—”
“No more ifs and buts,” he pointed to the bathroom. “Just go.”
He’s a devil. A perfect devil.
The man wouldn’t even let me explain myself. It’s no wonder I couldn’t speak around him. I slunk off to the restroom to get ready.
He called, “I’ll be downstairs.”
I shouted through the bathroom door, “okay! Now you go!”
“Ha! Going,” he said as he left. The door crashed closed behind him.
It was nearly 9:30 when I finally made it downstairs. It was my first day with my new family and I had no idea how to behave. My mother had given me a serious talking to, reminding me to keep my voice down, don’t get angry, control my laughter. But what did any of that actually mean? When I asked her to elaborate on that last one all she said was “just give a gentle, serene smile and don’t start guffawing loudly in front of everyone. That’s not the way a newlywed girl should behave.” Since the engagement, Mumma had constantly reminded me that I would have to ‘adjust to them’. That they would end up throwing me out if I didn’t. I didn’t know where I would go if I was thrown out from here, my real family had already given me away. Those lessons seemed more difficult to me than advanced mathematics.So far, however, Arnav had been pretty chilled-out. And he did promise me it’d be ok. As I walked downstairs, I was nervou
One week later, I was packing my bag to go home for pagfera. It was a custom in which the bride went to her house for the first time after her marriage. Normally, the bride’s brother came to pick her up from her ‘new’ house and then her husband would accompany her to her ‘father’s’ house. They would stay there for a short while, generally, one day, and then come back with good wishes and gifts from the bride’s family.Since I didn’t have a real brother, and all my cousins lived far away, Abhishek Bhaiya had offered to do the duties of a brother. He was actually a brother more than a brother-in-law for me. The affection he showed me was exactly what I would have wanted from an older brother.I didn't have to carry much, but all my necessities, and some clothes had to be packed for the short stay. I tried to keep the stuff to a minimum but the end result was a huge, overstuffed tote bag. As always, I was r
As soon as the car reached my house, I jumped out of the seat. Even before Abhishek Bhaiya could park properly. I was thrilled to see my family. Those glowing faces of the people with whom I’ve spent my life, my younger days, they just made me too excited. I put my arms around my mother and my sister and pulled them toward me in a long embrace at the gate. My father was also there. He had taken a day off from work, just for me. “Come, child, let's get inside.” My mother invitedBhaiyain for tea, but he refused. “No. I've to go.” We asked him to at least come inside and chat with us for a bit, but he refused saying, “Aunty ji, please, I am tempted to stay but I’ve to get to Shreya’s school. There’s a parent teacher meeting today. Arunima must be waiting for me. I just came to drop her off.” He patted my head. The day passed chatting with my mother and Betu. When Daddy eventually joined us, it was to ask about Arnav’s
Betu was more concerned about her Jeeju than how my life with him had begun. I couldn’t help myself. He was just so proper and buttoned up. It drove me crazy. “Oh! Don’t give him so much credit, he’s always in that executive mode. You should see him when he enters the house.” I mimicked his deeper voice, how he loosens his tie with one hand when he walks in the door, his other holding his phone. I shouted across the room, just like he always did “please get me a coffee, Chhaya Didi! In my room.” Betu burst out into laughter and protested, “oh! He can’t be like that. I’ve never seen him doing such things.” I challenged her. “Well, wait until this evening, you’ll see. He ignores me, won’t say anything to me when he comes home, and he’s constantly on his phone. I’m telling you, the man is a workaholic.” I shook my head, realizing exactly how hard it was to communicate with him. I mean if someone would say
The next morning, we were all sitting at the dining table, my Mumma was busy trying to stuff Arnav and I full with those lovely sandwiches she’d made. Arnav had woken me up late, as he’d again sabotaged my alarm earlier in the morning, and he called my name “Kriti ji,” in the same caring way you’d use to awaken a baby. He was all handsome and ready to go before he roused me. Why did he always do that to me? It made me feel stupid, him looking like that and I still in my nightie. I’d forgotten all about my anger with Daddy, like I always did. I could never hold a grudge against anyone. And, after all, he was my father, how could I forget that love we both had for each other? My eyes fell upon Arnav. Of course I knew the reason for his amused grin. I was busy talking with Daddy. I was a little embarrassed as I remembered that I’d decided, last night during my emotional trauma, that I wouldn’t come back home again after today.
Two more weeks passed and then a third. By then I had pretty much settled into my new life. I’d explored every corner of the house and had begun to build up a special bond with every member of the family, especially Gunjan and Shreya. Gunjan was so sweet and silly. She reminded me so much of my Kavya.Shreya and I quickly became the best of friends. We would eat chocolates together, we laughed together constantly, and we played together every day from kitchen set to hide and seek. After the first week, she would come to me in the evenings and just sit next to me while she did her homework. After a couple days I found myself helping her, answering questions when she had them. We quickly fell into a routine, and I looked forward to homework time each day.Arnav was different from his family members. Unlike everyone in the house, he didn’t talk much and he was always involved in his work. The man was a workaholic through and through. At night he never just rel
My new life unfolded in a quiet stability. Weeks went by where my love for my new family grew, but the relationship between my husband and I remained distant. I was out of bed that morning a little bit earlier than usual. That was the first day I’d woken up while Arnav was still asleep. The night had been exhausting. I was feeling very lonely, helpless even, most of the night. I felt claustrophobic, and sleep just refused to come. My period started that morning. Maybe that was the source of all this anxiety. Hormones. The alarm on Arnav’s phone rang. As he opened his eyes he rolled over, slapping the screen of his phone, silencing the tinkling sound. The moment he saw that the other side of the bed was vacant, he sat up and looked around the room. His face grew alarmed at once. As if he’d been considering that someone might have kidnapped me. His eyes landed on me standing at the cupboard. More than half of my body hidden by the doors of the wardrobe. “Kriti 
I changed my clothes before I called Arnav to come pick me up. This time I selected another suit. I wore an A-line suit of red and purple. The leggings were the same rich purpleas the dupatta, and the kurta was a rich, sensual red. I strapped on my favorite heels, the purple ones with the brocade straps and silver clasp. I did a quick swipe of just basic make up—a little day cream, thin lining of black kohl in my eyes and a thin coat of lip gloss. I let my dark brown, wavy hair flow loose as I usually did. I looked at myself in the mirror trying to flaunt my curves, which were tightly embraced by the dress, showing off my flat belly. I hoped Arnav would notice my body often. But he had never seemed to appreciate me in the physical sense. I stared at myself and found that red made me look good. The golden undertones of my fair skin actually glowed in it. It had been less than half an hour since Arnav called. When Arnav reached the house gate to collect me, it had
EPILOGUEThree Years LaterThe hairdresser was busy as she carefully straightened each strand of my dark brown locks. I searched my own face in the mirror and found that I’ve aged a little.Years have flown by. The day Arnav and I became one, my whole life changed. It wasn't too soon after that I found my real calling, my real passion and I wrote a book. I always wanted to be everything at once, and being a writer helped me to be that. For my third book, I landed a reputable publisher. Arnav and I have since been each other's best friends and he calls me his better half. My phone rang and I answered Arnav’s call on the first ring.“Hello? Kriti, are you ready yet?”“Almost, it will take about twenty more minutes.”“Okay, I’m leaving to pick you. Prabhat has called me several times already. We must be there by 6 pm sharp.”“We’ll be there at six, Arnav, don’t worry.”“Okay! I’m on my way. Love you.”Today, my second book was launching. It was a big day for me. I was right, I was made t
POV: KritiHe leaned in and our lips met again, for the third time in the last hour. It seemed like my husband wasn’t in a mood to go to work today. A swift move of his hand, and I heard the door close with a loud bang. His other hand explored my back through the thin line of cotton between our bodies. I moaned and gasped for breath and he finally released my lips, with a pleased and mischievous smile on his face.“Kriti! I need to leave now.”“Am I stopping you?” I dared.“No, but you’re not making it easy”My hand was entangled with his. I left it, waving my hands in a submitting motion. “I am not doing anything.”“But your eyes are telling me a different story.” He encircled his firm arms around my waist, nearly lifting me up from the ground, and whispered, “and you know what I would do if you keep doing that.”My lips curled into a smile as I buried my head on his shoulder. He’d been doing this since when we’d had that heartfelt tear-shedding moment. Hugging me tightly before leav
POV: ArnavThose words, those exact words were something I had longed to hear from her since the day I’d realized my love for her. I’d wondered, since that first day, if she’d be able to love a workaholic, boring, unexpressive businessman? I am who I am, I can’t change this person I’ve become. I felt my eyes getting heavy. I couldn’t hear anything but her sobs. And those words kept, again and again, repeating in my head, ‘I just... I love you so much…’ I closed my eyes. I felt something hot and wet slide down my cheek. Was it a tear? A tear of joy? I was numb. It didn’t even occur to me that I had to say something to her in return. To offer her a response to the revelations of her deepest feelings. I felt as if God had granted me some wish for which I’d prayed to him daily. I held her as close and as fiercely as I could for long minutes. And only then did I realize that now, it w
POV: KritiArnav was sitting quietly as he dressed my leg with a crepe bandage. I wanted to talk to him but his iron composure was making me scared. I knew he had to hate me. I wasn’t going to get a way out. I didn’t want to face him earlier. So, I just ran away. I ran away and left the diary for him. I’d been trying to talk to him for days, tell him everything that had happened, but I just couldn’t find the courage. I knew he was hurt. It was clearly visible on his face. And those eyes, when he came out running from the car and realized that it was me he had hit…“Arnav, I’m fine. It’s alright.”He looked directly into my eyes and took a deep breath, regaining that calmness. “Kriti, can I ask you something?”“Yes, Arnav.”“Have I ever scolded you?”I had no reply and just shook my head ‘no’.“Hav
POV: ArnavHours had passed and all my efforts had been in vain. I was just circling the city in my car and I had no clue where she might be. I had looked at every place I could possibly think of, and I had nothing in my mind now. I’d been in touch with Akansha and my phone again rang again.“Akansha, any news?” My voice filled with a tiny little spark of hope.“NoJeeju,” she said sadly, “nothing. Did you check café Downing Street?”“Yes, she wasn’t there. I asked for her everywhere.”We were both playing on assumptions of this unpredictable girl.“Did you look at any of the streets she likes to walk or anything?”“Yes,” I conceded. My hands ruffled my hair, “I did, I looked everywhere. Not a single person has seen her.”“Oh God, what will we do
POV: ArnavI tried calling her but she wouldn’t pick up her phone. She was angry and I’d first have to apologize for my earlier behavior, I was fine with that.I reached our home and I knocked at the door. I kept knocking, but she didn’t answer. When I let myself in, she wasn’t there. My chest got tight as I looked around the empty house. Whenever she had to go somewhere she’d always tell me. Maybe she had gone to buy more craft supplies.The first thing I saw, laying on the coffee table, was a black diary. The one in which Kriti writes now is purple, where did this black one come from and why was it here? There was a paper under the paper weight, kept on that black thing. I sat on the sofa and tried calling her again, but she wasn’t answering. The sinking feeling inside began to grow. Panic. This was what panic felt like. I hated it.I took a look at the paper.‘Arn
Four years ago, February:Dear Diary, we’ll be celebrating our second anniversary this April. Me and Sameer, the bond between us has grown so much. He talks to me like he’s planning to propose soon. Although, we have had our issues.Sameer, never liked me working at the Cultural Society. A few weeks ago, I had to work and he wanted me to go home with him instead. I had to tell him no, and he got angry. I sometimes don’t like his anger, the way he behaves with me, when he gets angry. As if, there’s nothing worthwhile about me all. He screams at me, he sometimes uses bad words. He hurts me sometimes, by his words, by his gestures, and a little bit physically too, he has left marks on my body, marks I’ve had to hide or lie about to my parents. He throws things, whatever he gets hold of, but then afterwards he always apologizes, he always tells me it was me, that I made him do it,
POV: ArnavI exhaled a breath as I hung upAbhishek Bhaiya’scall. He said he missed me. Even I miss our family but at least, Kriti and Golu were there. It had been nearly two weeks since Golu had arrived. That bastard had actually kept his promise by meeting me several times. I felt good with him. All those years, when I was all alone, I met him regularly just because, most of the time, he made my tension, the pressures, fade away a little bit. When I was struggling with the relationship with my real brother, he was there with me at least. I was able to just live some peaceful moments with him. We went for drives together in Kanpur on his bike. It gave me so much contentment when we drove to his place here in Indore the first time. I thought back to what he’d said on that first day while we were driving to his place.He’d been surprised. “Kriti, you found her?”“I didn&r
Five Years Ago, January:Dear Diary, each passing day is becoming more and more difficult for me. I just can’t forget the things he said to me after reading that letter. The first thing he asked me was, “why?”He asked me why I loved him. Does that even makes sense? Is there ever a reason why we love someone the way we do? Is it even under my control? Couldn’t he see that, with every day that passed, after that first conversation of ours, that I felt something? I fell for him. Head over heels. He made me feel special, made me feel like he cared about me, and I loved him for it. We’ve spent so many days together, and I now realize that I spent those days in a lie of my own manufacturing. I was so sure he loved me. But he doesn’t.He said, “can’t we just be friends?”What kind of friendship is this? What kind of friend sits by your si