Nitya

With the tea tray in my hand, I pause at the threshold of my room, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

I have brought morning tea for Prathamji many times after out marriage, but today feels different. And it's because of the realization of my feelings that I had last night.

Along with the realization, it's also because of the decision that I have taken. The decision to confess my love to him.

Taking one more deep breath, I step inside the room, my gaze immediately finding Prathamji.

He is sitting on the bed, resting his back against the headboard, absorbed in the newspaper.

I feel a pinch in my heart at the sight of him. An ache blossoming due to the longing for him. He is right here, in front of me, yet there seems to be so much of distance between us. The distance that I hope I can slightly bridge after letting him know how I feel about him.

"Good morning," I greet him softly, placing the tea tray on the bedside table.

He glances up at me, a slight smile on his face. "Good morning," he says, folding the newspaper and setting it aside.

Then, he reaches for the tea, picking it from the tray and sipping it.

I continue standing on my spot, staring at him as he drinks his tea, unsure of how to begin saying what I want to say.

"What happened, Nitya?" He asks, frowning at me. "Why are you staring at me that way? Is something the matter?"

I swallow hard, trying to gather the courage that I need to bare my heart to him. I'm not sure if I am ready to say it or if he is ready to hear it, but I don't want to wait anymore.

"I need to say something to you," I begin, my voice trembling slightly.

"Yes? Tell me." He looks curiously at me.

"I.... I have realized something," I say. "Something about.... my feelings." I can't bring myself to meet his gaze so I look at the teacup in his hand, which he places back on the tray on the bedside table.

"What is it?" He asks, and I can feel him giving me his undivided attention now.

Say it, Nitya. Just do it.

Encouraging myself, I lower my eyes to look at the floor and start speaking.

"Pata nahi yeh kab aur kaise hogaya. Pata nahi aap kaise meri zindagi ka itna ahem hissa bann gaye ke ab aapke bina jeene ke baare mein sochne se bhi darr lagta hai. Main aapse pyaar karti hoon, Prathamji." I say it in one go, feeling my whole body warming due to the confession.

("I don't know how and when it happened. I don't know how you became such indispensable part of my life that I now feel scared to even imagine living without you. I love you, Prathamji.")

I wait for a few seconds, hoping he will say something, but it is only silence that stretches between us.

Slowly, as I raise my head and look at him, I notice him staring at me with wide eyes.

Realizing he is shocked due to my sudden confession, I continue, "I know you had said you would never accept me as your wife. And I do understand you said it because you were forced into this relationship with me. But, Prathamji, can't you try at least once to give our marriage a chance? Please?"

He does not answer me. Does not say anything. Only keeps his gaze fixed on me.

Each second of silence from him causes my heart to sink, making me more convinced that he was going to reject my love.

But then, he suddenly reaches out and holds my hand, pulling me on the bed.

"Prathamji," I shriek, my breath hitching when he clears the strands of hairs from my face, tucking them behind my ear.

"Nitya," he says softly, cupping my face.

His eyes, filled with emotions, draw me to them, and I stare unblinkingly at him.

"I didn't expect it," he tells me, his thumb stroking my cheek. "I really didn't expect to fall for you. But I don't know how and when it happened."

Those words from his mouth sends a shockwave through me, and my heart races in such a way that I wonder if it will lurch out of my chest.

"Do you reall—" I stop, my breath hitching when he pulls me even closer to him.

"I tried to fight it," he admits with honesty ringing in his voice. "I tried to tell myself I could not love you because this was the relationship I never wanted. But I can't and also don't want to deny it anymore. I no longer want to hide what I feel for you."

My heart soars at his words, feeling so overwhelmed that I can hardly breathe.

After realizing my love for him, I had thought it would be next to impossible for Prathamji to reciprocate my love. But here he is. Telling me that he too has fallen for me.

Before I can respond to his words, he swiftly closes the distance between us, his lips capturing mine in a kiss.

The moment his lips touch mine, I melt into him. My arms wrapping around his neck as I kiss him with everything I have.

The kiss deepens and as his tongue explores my mouth, his hands move to my waist, pulling me to him.

A low moan escapes my lips when I feel the heat of his body against mine. It is intoxicating in such a way that it's only him and his touch that exists for me at this moment.

After a while, he pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, both our breaths coming in ragged gasps as we peer at each other.

"I love you, Nitya," he says, his voice hoarse.

With my heart skipping a beat due to his confession, I lean toward him and kiss him briefly on the lips. "I love you too, Prathamji."

As soon as I say that, he pushes me down on the bed.

My heart pounds with anticipation as he hovers above me. "I want you," he says, and leans down to capture my lips in another searing kiss, his hands sliding down my sides, causing heat to pool at the pit of my stomach.

Further leaning down, he plasters every inch of his body against mine as he trails his kisses from my lips to jaw to my neck, his lips and teeth gently nipping at the skin, making me gasp and cling to him even tighter.

"Prathamji," I moan his name, wanting more, needing more.

But he suddenly stops and sits up on the bed.

Panting due to the aftermath of our proximity, I frown at him, wondering why he suddenly stopped.

"It's time to wake up, Nitya," he says. "Everyone is waiting downstairs for you."

Confused by what he said, I am about to tell him I am already awake, but suddenly, I feel a jolt, as if I am being pulled out of a deep sleep.

Opening my eyes, I blink, disoriented, as my surroundings slowly come to the focus.

Prathamji is no longer on the bed with me. Instead, he is standing by the foot of the bed.

"Nitya?" He calls softly. "Are you fine?"

My cheeks instantly flush with heat as I realize I had been dreaming it all. No confession was made and there was no kiss or the intimate moment between us. It had all been a dream.

Prathamji's touch, his kisses, the way he had looked at me with such love and desire—it had all been in my mind. Just my imagination.

Disappointment washes through me due to that cognizance.

"Nitya?" Prathamji calls again. "What's the matter? Why has your face suddenly gotten so red?"

Sitting up, I take the glass of water from the bedside table and take a few sips before setting it down.

"It's n-nothing," I stammer, my voice trembling a bit as I struggle to find my composure. "I... umm... it was a dream."

He raises his eyebrow, curiously looking at me. "What kind of dream was it?"

I bite my bottom lip as the memory of that dream floods my mind, making me warmer than I already was.

Rubbing my face, I shake my head, trying to shrug off that memory, no matter how beautiful it was.

"I don't remember much about it," I lie, hoping he will drop it.

Thankfully, he does. "I let you sleep in for a bit because you were tired after our journey yesterday and also because it's still your birthday today. But it's time to wake up now. You need to have your breakfast."

I gasp when I look at the clock on the wall. It was indeed very late.

"You should have woken me up earlier, Prathamji. Everyone must be waiting downstairs for breakfast."

"They have already had it," he tells me. "Dhriti made breakfast today, and when I told her it's your birthday today, she also made kheer for you so you could have something sweet after waking up."

"That's nice of her. I'll freshen up and go thank her."

Climbing down from the bed, as I walk to the cupboard to get a change of clothes, I halt midway, wondering if I should confess my feelings to Prathamji.

The dream had been so vivid that I still remember it. And it had been a morning dream.

So, who knows? That dream might turn into reality.

"Prathamji?" I turn to look at him.

"Yes?"

"Umm, I wanted to tell you something."

"What is it?" He asks.

"I wanted to say....," I pause, nervousness rising within me as I continue gazing at him.

"Tell me, Nitya. What do you want to say?"

"Thank you," I tell him, realizing I won't be able to confess my feelings. I am not ready. "Thank you for the shawls that you gifted me."

He frowns. "You already thanked me last night."

"Yes. But I wanted to thank you again. After all, they are so beautiful."

He smiles and nods at me. "You are welcome. I'm glad that you liked them."

Smiling back at him, I take out my clothes from the cupboard and walk to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

*****

In the kitchen, I am preparing lunch when Udayji steps inside, his presence immediately setting me on edge.

He walks too close to me and I hurriedly take few steps back, feeling uncomfortable due to his proximity.

"Do you always wake up late, Nityaji?" He asks. "I had been waiting to eat breakfast made by you, but you didn't wake up in time to prepare it."

I stay silent. Not wanting to interact with him. His presence, his words, everything about him makes my skin crawl.

Suddenly, he steps even closer and turns off the gas.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I ask, trying my best to keep my voice steady.

"When I ask you something, I expect to get an answer," he says with such an edge to his voice that it sends a chill down my spine.

"I... I need to prepare lunch," I tell him, hoping he does not whiff my fear rising due to his suffocating presence.

"I will let you prepare it, Nityaji," he says, still blocking the gas, not letting me turn it on. "But before that, you'll need to answer my question."

"Please, why are you doing this?" I ask, my voice shaking as I try to back away. But he keeps stepping closer to me no matter how much I move back.

"I only want your answer, Nityaji. Did you think about what I told you yesterday?" He asks. "What conclusion did you reach? Do you think this family will believe you? Or, will they believe me?"

Not wanting to talk with him, not wanting to be in his presence, I am about to walk out of the kitchen, but he suddenly grips my wrist.

Too scared now, I am about to shout, but before I can, Prathamji steps inside the kitchen.

Udayji quickly lets go of my wrist and I rush to Prathamji, feeling relief wash through me on seeing him.

"What were you two talking about?" He asks, his voice curious.

Before I can answer him, Udayji starts speaking. "It's nothing, Pratham. I was only wishing Nityaji on her birthday."

Prathamji nods, seeming to believe Udayji's lie.

Then, he turns to me. "Nitya, I can't seem to find a file. I need to take it to the factory now. Can you come to the room and help me find it?"

"Yes, of course," I hurriedly reply, wanting to get away from Udayji as soon as possible.

*****

"Thank you, Nitya," Prathamji says when I hand him the file.

Sitting on the couch in the room, as he rifles through the pages in the file, I sit across from him, thinking about my brief interaction with Udayji in the kitchen.

I can't keep tolerating such behavior from him and need to do something about it.

And there is only one way to stop him—by telling his truth to everyone.

But I need to be prepared for it. As he said, it would be his words against mine. And with his long history and relationship with this family, it's more probable that everyone would take his side. Even Prathamji might believe him instead of me.

That's why, I will first need to collect the evidence against him so I can show it to everyone while I tell his truth.

And for that to happen....

"I need to talk with you," I tell Prathamji, and closing his file, he looks at me, perhaps sensing the seriousness of the matter from my severe voice.

"What's the matter, Nitya?"

"I was thinking of going to my parents' house for a few days."

"Go to your parents' house?" He echoes, his tone tinged with surprise. "Why the sudden thought to go?"

I hesitate, not wanting to lie to him but having no other choice too. "I miss them," I tell him.

It's not the truth, but it's also not entirely a lie. I do miss my parents and brother. After all, I haven't met or talked with them since I got married.

Prathamji's expression is conflicted as he regards me for a few seconds. "For how long do you plan to stay there?"

"Three or four days," I reply, hoping Bhaiyya and I would be able to collect proof against Udayji within that duration.

Prathamji sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Three days only, Nitya. No more than that. Be back on the fourth day."

"I'll be here on the fourth day," I agree, relieved to have gotten his permission.

Three days are all I have to find whatever I can about Udayji and his first marriage. Once I get enough proof, I'll tell the entire truth to Prathamji. Hopefully, after that, Udayji will be gone forever from our lives.