Nitya

Prathamji and I step out of the room and make our way to the dining table where everyone is waiting for us.

I swallow, as I notice them look at us with knowing smirks on their faces.

My face heats up due to their stares, and I hope that's all they'll do. Just look at us and give us knowing smirks, without teasing like they did earlier.

But that hope went down the drain when Dhritiji started speaking right after Prathamji and I take our seats.

"So, Bhaiyya," she says, her voice playful. "How's your back now?"

I freeze, feeling the flush of heat rise to my face as I hear everyone, except Prathamji, erupting in laughter.

Looking at Prathamji, I notice he is also slightly flustered, a hint of red showing at the side of his neck.

"I don't think the oil helped much," Shrutiji adds. "You still look a little stiff, Pratham."

I look pleadingly at her and Dhritiji, but they only shake their head, looking as if they have no intention to stop.

"Hmm, since Bhaiyya still looks stiff, I don't think they used the oil for the backache," Dhritiji continues. "I wonder what it was use—"

"Oh, stop it, please!" I finally say, feeling my whole body warming due to their teasing.

"Nitya is right. It's enough now," Prathamji says, giving everyone a pointed look.

Finally, and thankfully, they relent, and as the teasing dies down, we all start eating.

I let out a breath of relief, hoping for no more chaos at the table, but the hope again goes down the drain when Yash bhaiyya starts speaking.

"So, when are you leaving, Pratham?" He asks.

Prathamji sets down his fork and leans back in his chair, narrowing his eyes at Bhaiyya. "I'll leave when Nitya is ready to leave with me."

"She'll come to you when she is ready. You can leave sooner."

"If you have any problem with me staying here, you can leave. I'll stay here with my wife," Prathamji counters.

"This is my house. You can't tell me to leave," Bhaiyya shoots back.

"I'm not telling you to leave," Prathamji says. "It's you who wants me to leave. Since you are the one with the problem, you should be the one to leave."

"Yes, I have a problem, and it's you." Bhaiyya shakes his head at Prathamji.

Prathamji smirks, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table. "The problem himself is calling me a problem." He scoffs. "This is exactly why I don't like you. Always stirring the pot and calling everyone else a problem."

"Oh, come on. It's only you who don't like me. No one else here thinks of me that way."

As soon as Bhaiyya says that, Dhritiji starts laughing. "Hmm, so that's another problem you have—delusion."

Yash bhaiyya turns to Dhritiji, clearly offended by what she said. "I definitely am not deluded. Give me one reason to not like me. Pratham only dislikes me because—"

"But Pratham bhaiyya is right to dislike you," Dhritiji interrupts. "After all, he dislikes karela (bitter gourd), and you are exactly that. Ek toh karela, upar se neem chadha (Bitter gourd, that too with a coating of neem)."

Prathamji affectionately strokes Dhritiji's hair. "Kitni sayani hogayi hai meri behen."

("My sister has become so wise.")

At this point, I'm moving my head back and forth between the three of them like I'm watching some kind of match.

I notice Yash bhaiyya open his mouth to retort, but Namanji starts speaking before he can. "From the way you all have been yapping, I feel all three of you are the problems. So, you all win. Can we get back to eating now?"

Prathamji and Dhritiji glare at Yash bhaiyya and he also glares back at them, but none of them say anything else.

With the banter finally winding down, everyone turns their focus back to breakfast, and looking at them, I can't help but smile.

I glance over at Prathamji, and he gives me a warm smile before taking a bite of his toast.

Suddenly, a sense of contentment washes over me. A sense of belonging as I look at everyone around me. This group of people, who are loud, chaotic, but also incredibly wonderful, are my family now, and I would not trade them for the world.

*****

I stand at the kitchen counter, chopping the vegetables for lunch. I'm completely absorbed in the task, focused on the steady rhythm of the knife.

"Nitya."

I jump, startled, as I suddenly hear my name. I turn quickly, shaking my head at Prathamji. "You scared me!" I tell him. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugs, stepping closer to me. "You are making lunch alone. So, I thought I should help you with it."

I raise an eyebrow because he has never helped me in the kitchen before. "You want to help me?"

"Yes," he replies, reaching for the tomatoes on the counter.

Before I can say anything, he starts slicing them, albeit clumsily. But then, the knife slips, and the tomatoes end up squishes under his hand, juice splattering across the counter.

"Hmm, so by help, you mean you want to increase my work?" I ask, stifling my smile.

"You are just not appreciating my unique style," he says, wiping his hands. "If you give me some time, you'll see how talented I actually am."

"Hmm, I'll pass for now because I want to get lunch ready in time," I tell him. "I'm getting a feeling that if you continue being here, I won't be able to finish cooking lunch until the dinner time."

Saying that, I try to shoo him out of the kitchen, but he suddenly moves in front of me, placing his hands on my waist and effortlessly lifting me up onto the counter.

My breath catches in my throat, and I blink up at him in surprise.

Prathamji's eyes sparkly with playful intent, his face inches from mine. "One kiss," he says, voice low, his fingers brushing my cheek. "I'll leave after that."

I hesitate, glancing toward the kitchen door. "Anyone can walk in. The teasing was bad earlier. And if they saw us now, it will only get worse."

"No one is home," Prathamji reassures me, stepping even closer. His warm breath now fanning my face. "They'll be returning after an hour."

He snakes his one arm around my waist, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. I bite my lip, my resistance weakening as I gaze into his dark eyes. "Only one kiss."

As soon as I say that, he pulls me down toward him, cradling his free arm at the back of my neck.

Our lips meet in a deep, urgent kiss, and I feel his hand tighten around my waist, drawing me even closer to him.

My hands find their way to his chest, fingers gripping his shirt to steady myself as I feel his every touch sending spark through me. My whole body tingles, lost in the sensation of him, feeling the heat build between us.

But our moment is harshly interrupted the very next second due to a loud shattering noise.

We both freeze, pulling apart quickly, and with my heart pounding, I turn toward the door.

There, standing wide-eyed in the doorway, is everyone—Yash bhaiyya, Dhritiji, Namanji, Shrutiji. All of them staring at us as if we are the aliens they are seeing for the first time.

I feel the heat rushing to my face, my cheeks burning in mortification as I realize how worse the teasing is going to be now.

*****

Pratham

After the dinner, we are all seated in the living room. The chatter around me is a dull background noise as I keep my whole focus on Nitya. My wife, who spent the entire day completely ignoring me. Every time I tried to talk with her, she turned away, and when I tried to get her alone and talk with her, she found some excuse to get away from me.

I know why she is mad. After we were caught kissing in the kitchen earlier, everyone teased us relentlessly.

Of course, Nitya blamed me, claiming it was all my fault, which, yes, it kind of was, but that doesn't mean she can ignore me throughout the day.

Now too, she is sitting across the room, laughing with Dhriti and Shruti bhabhi, completely ignoring my attempts to get her attention.

This has now started to get to me.

Still, taking a deep breath, I try again.

"Nitya," I call softly, but she doesn't even look my way, let alone answer me.

Just like the last five times since we finished dinner.

I hear everyone's barely contained snickers and notice their sly grin as they look between Nitya and me. After all, they all must have noticed how my wife is ignoring me.

That's it. Enough is enough.

I get up and stride over to her. The moment I'm close enough, I bend down and scoop her up in my arms.

"Prathamji!" She shrieks, her eyes wide with shock. "What are you doing? Put me down!"

Ignoring her protests and the shocked expressions from everyone else, I carry her through the hallway, to her room.

She is trying to wiggle out of my grasp, but I hold her firmly as I push open the room's door with my foot.

Once we are inside the room, I set her down and lock the door.

Then, before she can catch her breath, I press her against the wall, my hands braced on the either side of her.

I lean in, noticing she is about to say something. But the moment she opens her mouth, I kiss her. Hard.

My lips move against hers, rough and demanding, as I capture her mouth with mine, tasting her deeply.

Her hands grab the front of my shirt, and I wonder if she'll push me away.

She doesn't.

Instead, she pulls me closer. Her breath hitching as I deepen the kiss, sliding my tongue past her lips, exploring her mouth.

My hands slide down to her waist, gripping her tightly as I press her to me, out bodies molding together as I continue kissing her.

I can feel her lips moving feverishly with mine, and the soft sounds escaping her throat only spurring me on. I kiss her harder, more intensely, roaming my hands over her back, groaning when he body responds and arches into mine.

When I finally pull back, we are both breathless.

Her eyes are wide, her lips swollen, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tries to catch her breath.

"Why?" She asks, her voice breathless, her body still pressed against the wall as she looks at me.

I brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "You were angry because everyone saw us kissing earlier," I say, my voice low and teasing. "So, I decided to kiss you in private."

Her eyes widen even more, and for a moment, she just stares at me in disbelief. She tries to say something but closes her mouth again, seeming unsure of how to respond.

Taking a deep breath, she shakes her head. "We should sleep now. It's getting late."

I frown, confused by her sudden deflection, but I decide not to press it. After an eventful day, it's better we retire for the night now.

"You are right. Let's sleep," I tell her, about to head over to the couch, but she stops me.

"You can sleep on the bed tonight," she says. "I, umm, I.... miss.... hugging you.... while sleeping."

Her words catch my off guard, but also makes my heart swell. With warmth spreading through my chest, I ask, "Are you sure?"

Nitya nods, giving me a shy smile. "I'm sure."

Without another word, I lead her to the bed.

After turning off the lights and lying down, I pull her into my arms and hold her close, feeling myself relaxing as she nestles against me and rests her head on my chest.

"I love you," I whisper against her hair, holding her tighter.

I feel her smile against my chest as she snuggles closer. "I love you too," she murmurs, and with that, everything feels right to me—like my world is now finally perfect because of her being in it.