Nitya

I press myself tighter against the couch, my heart racing as I feel he's going to find me any second now. I had never thought a day would come when I'd be hiding from Prathamji, but I also didn't know that one day he would turn into this overzealous and overprotective husband.

Through the slats of the couch cushions, I catch a glimpse of him. His broad shoulders flex as he raises a hand to run through his hair, the movement utterly captivating. And my mouth goes dry as I watch his lips twitch.

Those lips and what they can do.

My cheeks flush at the mere thought of them against my lips, or against the places in my body that make me tremble with a need only he can satisfy.

My husband is gorgeous, and he's mine. All mine.

I shake my head the moment my mind reminds me that, right now, he's not just my gorgeous husband, but also my ridiculously overprotective husband.

Ever since we returned to the city after he got discharged from the hospital, he has been treating me as though I'm a fragile glass ornament teetering on the edge of a shelf.

He tells me to sit slowly, stand slowly, walk slowly, and for heaven's sake, talk slowly. Yes, talk slowly, as if the very act of forming words with too much enthusiasm might somehow endanger our baby. It's adorable sometimes, infuriating often, and utterly exhausting all the time.

I press a hand to my belly and whisper softly, "Baby, I love your Papa. I really do. But if I don't get just five minutes of peace from him, I might scream. Or worse, I might actually punch that handsome face of his. And we don't want that, do we?"

I feel a little flutter in response, but it could be the baby agreeing with me or laughing at my predicament.

Smiling slightly, I softly pat my stomach and settle behind the couch, determined to stay in my hiding spot a little longer.

Still, as I hear Prathamji calling my name again, a pang of guilt sneaks in. I know he's doing this because he loves us, because he's terrified of anything happening to us. And as much as I get irritated by his antics, a part of me melts every time I think about it.

I stiffen as I hear Prathamji's footsteps coming closer to the couch, but relief washes over me when the front door opens after a second and Yash bhaiyya walks in.

Perfect timing.

Bhaiyya will keep Prathamji occupied long enough for me to calm my nerves.

"Why do you look like you've lost your mind?" Bhaiyya asks after entering the apartment and closing the door behind him.

Prathamji whirls around to face him, stepping away from the couch and toward Bhaiyya. "I can't find Nitya anywhere!"

Bhaiyya shrugs, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. "She must have run away to Naman's apartment again to breathe in peace for a few minutes."

"No, she hasn't," Prathamji snaps, his voice indignant. "Why would she run away from me?"

"Oh, I don't know what you did this time." Bhaiyya smirks, clearly savoring this moment. "Perhaps it was something like the water incident from two days back."

At that, Prathamji's face reddens. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh? You don't remember?" Bhaiyya's grin widens. "Let me refresh your memory then. Exactly two days back, when we were all sitting right here in the living room, Nitya asked for water, and you brought it for her. Then, after handing her the glass, you timed her sips, insisting each one had to take exactly five seconds. Five seconds to sip and gulp water! No wonder my poor sister got annoyed and ran off to Naman's apartment."

"I did it because drinking too fast could have made her choke," Prathamji says. "It might have led to a coughing fit, and that-"

"Could have harmed her and the baby." Bhaiyya finishes for him. "We've heard this logic from you numerous times before, and still, it doesn't make any sense."

I sigh and shake my head at the memory. It had been the day when I finally reached my breaking point. I still remember the look on Prathamji's face that day-earnest, worried, and completely over-the-top.

I had been so furious when he told me when to sip the water and when to gulp it that I stormed out of here and marched straight into Shrutiji's apartment. Of course, he followed me there and spent hours pleading with me to come back, promising to rein in his overprotective tendencies.

And he had. Well, mostly. Because there are still times when he can't rein it in. Like today. Which is why I'm hiding from him.

I look at the clock and realize it's been ten minutes since I hid here.

Perhaps it's time to reveal myself. I'm much calmer now.

Nodding at the thought, I'm about to stand up when the door opens again, and I see Namanji entering the apartment.

He pauses, his gaze shifting between Yash bhaiyya and Prathamji. "Are you two fighting again?" He asks. "Because I'm telling you right now, I don't have the energy to deal with it. So if you are, just stop."

Bhaiyya sits on the couch right across from Namanji. "Of course, you wouldn't have the energy," he says, his voice teasing. "All of it is going toward pacifying Shruti these days, isn't it?"

That earns him a glare from Namanji.

"Is Bhabhi still upset with you, Bhaiyya?" Prathamji asks.

"She is," Namanji admits with a sigh. "And it's worse this time because she was the one who killed Sandhya. That's why, she's being more vigilant, keeping an eye on everything, digging into her past."

My stomach twists. Shrutiji had killed Sandhya to protect me. That day, after Prathamji took the bullet for me, I was not in my senses to think or understand anything. All my focus was on praying and hoping desperately for Prathamji to be fine.

But later, when I asked what happened, everyone explained that Namanji shot Uday after he fired a shot at me, and Shrutiji's knife hit Sandhya right at chest when she threw it to protect me from getting hit by the iron rod that Sandhya was about to impale me with after she saw Prathamji saving me.

I was overcome with guilt when I also found out about the issues Shrutiji has with Sandhya's family. Although I don't know the details, they told me there's some bad blood between them. When I got concerned, she and Namanji had assured me they had handled it and everything was fine.

But now it's clear to me they only said that so I would not worry.

I turn my attention back to them when Yash bhaiyya speaks. "What are you planning to do about it?" He asks Namanji, his voice serious now.

"I don't know," Namanji replies, rubbing his face with his hands. "It's getting serious, and I feel like she's slipping away from me."

"Don't say that, Bhaiyya." Prathamji claps a hand on Namanji's shoulder. "We'll help you. Whatever you need, we'll figure it out."

"Yes," Yash bhaiyya agrees. "Just tell us what you need us to do."

My chest tightens at the genuine concern in their voices. I want to step out, to comfort Namanji, but as I shift to stand, I hear Namanji ask, "What about you, Yash? When are you planning to marry Dhriti? She's starting to get upset about it."

Dhritiji is upset?

I had talked with them after Bhaiyya postponed the marriage for a few months. They had told me they wanted to have a grand wedding with full preparations. That why's they needed to take some time to finalize about the venues and the functions.

But now, I realize that had been a lie too. Another lie from them so I would not worry.

"I'll marry Dhriti," Bhaiyya says, his voice low and severe. "But there are things I need to sort out first."

"Sort things out? What things?" Namanji asks, and there is an edge to his voice. "Listen to me carefully, Yash. If you break my sister's heart, I'll make sure to break your bones. All of them."

"I love her and I'd never do anything to hurt her," Bhaiyya says, and I'm relieved to hear sincerity in his reply. "But there are things in my life, in our relationship, that need resolving before we marry."

That's it. I've had enough.

I stand and step out from behind the couch.

"What kind of things are you talking about?" I ask, fixing my gaze on my brother. "And if there are things that need to be resolved, why did you tell me everything was peachy when I asked you the reason behind you postponing the wedding?"

Three heads swivel toward me, their faces frozen in varying degrees of shock. For a moment, no one says anything, but then, Prathamji breaks the silence.

"You were hiding there the whole time?"

"Yes, I was," I reply, crossing my arms.

His reaction is immediate, and unsurprisingly, frantic. "How could you be so careless, Nitya? Sitting on the floor behind the couch like that. Do you have any idea how dangerous it can be for you and the baby?"

I sigh, already exasperated. "I had kept cushions, Prathamji. One under me and one behind my back. I don't know if you'll believe this or not, but I also care about our baby as much as you do."

He opens his mouth to say something, but I hold up a hand to stop him. "Not now. I need to talk with them first."

I turn to face Yash bhaiyya and Namanji, who look like they'd prefer to be anywhere else right now than being here in front of me.

"Why did you lie to me?" I demand. "You said everything was fine in your marriage and relationship. But clearly, it's not."

"It's nothing you need to worry about, Nitya," Namanji says. "Yes, there are some... tensions. But I'll smooth everything out soon."

"And I'll sort out my side of things too," Bhaiyya chimes in, his voice reassuring. "Really, there's no need for you to stress over this."

I open my mouth to press for details, but Bhaiyya starts speaking before I can even utter a word. "I, umm, I just remember an urgent work I need to attend to."

At that, a spark of annoyance ignites within me. "What kind of urgent work can you possibly have on a Sunday afternoon?" I ask, my voice loud and angry.

This has been happening a few times lately. I tend to swing between the extreme of emotions sometimes. I go from being annoyed to sad to happy to angry in just a matter of few minutes.

"My car!" Namanji blurts out, patting his pockets for no reason. "I think I left the windows down, and, uh, there's rain in the forecast!" He grabs his keys and practically stumbles toward the door.

"My... my plants!" Bhaiyya exclaims the very next second. "They're due for watering. It's a very delicate process and takes me hours to finish. I'll need to start right away if I want to complete it on time!" When he finishes speaking, he's already halfway across the room.

They're gone before I can so much as blink, leaving behind the faint sound of their hastened footsteps echoing down the corridor.

"They are impossible." I exhale deeply, shaking my head.

Then, I turn to Prathamji. "Everyone seems to be hiding things from me," I say, narrowing my eyes at him. "What about you? Are you hiding something too?"

He steps closer to me and cups my face, his lips curving into a small smile. "Hide something from you? I'm not that stupid anymore. I've learned my lessons well enough from my past mistakes, Nitya. So, trust me when I say I won't ever repeat those mistakes and won't ever hide anything from you."

"That's good then," I tell him, feeling my anger ebbing away.

Prathamji suddenly laughs, placing a kiss on my forehead.

"Why are you laughing?" I ask, curious.

"Your mood swings," he replies.

"What about them?"

"Well, I need to admit, they scare the hell out of me sometimes. But they also..." He steps closer, his voice dipping lower, "make me want to devour you."

My cheeks flush instantly as the memories of last night flood my mind, vivid and heated, making my skin warm and my core pulse. And the way Prathamji is looking at me, I'm sure he has not only noticed the shift in my expression, but has also understood the reason behind it.

"Thinking about last night?" He murmurs, leaning in until his lips are barely an inch away from my ear. "Do you want me to repeat that performance?"

I swat his arm, my blush deepening as I sputter, "How can you even think about that when I'm worried about Shrutiji, Namanji, Yash bhaiyya, and Dhritiji?"

"Yash and Bhaiyya said they'll handle it," he tells me. "And if they need us, we'll be there to help them."

I nod, though unease still lingers. "I think we should go and talk with Shrutiji and Dhritiji too. We can't just leave things hanging."

"If you want to, we'll go and talk with them later," he says. "But right now, it's time for your afternoon snack."

I open my mouth to argue, but the determined set of his jaw tells me it's futile.

"I'm not skipping or delaying your snack, Nitya," he adds. "Non-negotiable."

With a sigh, I relent, letting him take my hand and guide me toward our room. "Do you think everything will be fine now, Prathamji?" I ask him. "Uday and Sandhya are gone. But sometimes, I feel like there is another storm waiting to hit us."

He stops, turning to face me fully. "Nothing's coming for us, my love. I won't let it. You've been through enough. We've been through enough. It's our time to be happy now. No more storms."

I let out a shaky breath, clinging to his reassurance. "I hope you're right."

"Of course, I am," he says, leading me to the bed and helping me sit, arranging the pillows behind me. "Stay here. I'll get your snack."

The way he is behaving, one would think I'm nine months pregnant, but it's only been four months. So, yes, I still have five more months of this to bear.

And who knows how he will be after the baby comes? What if his overprotectiveness went up a notch?

I smile and shake my head as I imagine how it will be-funny, adorable, and exasperating all at once.

But no matter how it's going to be, I'm sure we'll feel loved and cherished by him through every second of it.

At that thought, an overwhelming feeling of love envelopes me, igniting the need for him within me.

I notice Prathamji about to turn and head out of the room, but he can leave, I grab his hand, my face heating as I say, "About that repeat performance you mentioned earlier..."

He pauses, his expression shifting to one of surprise. "Are you saying you want it?"

My blush spreads to my ears as I nod.

For a moment, he's silent, his eyes wide. Then, he grins and sits beside me. "Who knew pregnancy hormones had their perks?" He says, pulling me into a warm hug.

I bury my face in his chest, too shy to respond, but I can feel the smile tugging at my lips.

After everything Prathamji and I endured alone, after everything we faced together, we're finally here. The weight of our journey-the storms we weathered, the silence we broke, the fears we conquered-has been heavy, but in this moment, it all feels worth it.

There was a time when I thought we could never be together, but we are here now. We built our relationship, together, through every trial and every tear.

Sometimes, our happily ever after seems surreal to me, like it's something from a story, a fairytale I never dared to hope for. Yet, as I listen to the steady rhythm of Prathamji's heartbeat, I know it's as real as the air we breathe. It's as real as the love that has brought us here, as real as the life we'll continue to build, side by side, hand in hand.

Right now, I feel a kind of happiness that almost scares me. But I know this isn't just a fleeting happiness. It's a lasting peace. It's more than I ever imagined it could be. Because with Prathamji, I've discovered a love that feels like the end of a journey, but also the beginning of something even more beautiful.

*****

With this chapter, it's a wrap for this story. Thank you so much, everyone, for accompanying me in Nitya and Pratham's journey. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

'His Arranged Bride' is the first book in 'His' series.

The second book is: 'His Dangerous Bride' (Naman and Shruti's story)

The third book is: 'His Sweet Desire' (Yash and Dhriti's story)

Both the books will be available exclusively on my Scrollstck (Username: Rinuesha).

Please stay tuned for the announcement regarding the publishing dates of the books.❤️