21. aadat na sahi, par kam se kam yaad toh banao mujhe apni. (If not a habit, at least make me someone you want to remember.)

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It's a change I'm not accustomed to yet. The little things that makes me realise this room isn't solely mine anymore. The bathroom smells of female products. My toothbrush finally has a companion. The dressing table has a wide variety of perfumes, nailpolish, hair clips, and combs. There's also a straighter, a curler, a different kind of blow dryer, and some more things I'm not educated about. And her hair is everywhere. Literally everywhere. In the shower, on the pillow, on the floor, you name the place and it's there. She has thick long hair, and they are absolutely stunning, well as long as they don't end up anywhere close to the kitchen. Meghna and mom's hair has already annoyed us enough. But Meghna's hair never ended up curling around my toes. Maybe because she isn't around me as much as Priya is. It's because of that I'm not really bothered about the change. She is here. Finally, all mine.

I smiled, lingering on the same page I had been reading for the last thirty minutes. I couldn't get enough of her, it was like my most beautiful fantasy has come alive. I still find it hard to believe that she chose me. She said yes to me. I know I'm far from what women want in men. I'm not manly enough. I don't have the body of John Abraham or the jawline line of Hrithik Roshan, neither I'm cool like Salman Khan nor am I charming like Shahrukh Khan. I'm the most average Indian man you'll find out there, one of the many you pass on the local streets and don't bother to look back.

Vikram always says I underestimate myself. How can I when the first girl I gathered enough courage to ask out rejected me saying she only befriended me for my brother, and I'm not usually girls' type because I'm too feminine? That had me crying for nights by the way. I was just fifteen then.

I know I'm not manly. I don't have masculine traits. I like to read books in my free time, I rarely take interest in sports, and my hobbies extend to writing, dancing, and cooking. No surprise girls didn't find me their type. I've read enough books to know what kind of men girls like considering most of them were written by female authors. If this was a book, my brother would have been the main lead. Because he is the type of guy girls fantasize about. Rich, quiet, muscular, and tall. His personality fits the main character arc well.

Priya and I are so mismatched. Yet every moment that I spend with her, I find myself perfect with her. As though we fit.

"Aditya,"

I refocused, watching her silently.

"It's four. I should start getting ready." She informed me. "What do you think I should wear?"

I frowned. "Clothes?"

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Very funny." That was definitely sarcasm because I did not crack a joke. "Seriously, I don't know what girls usually wear during Mu Dikhayi."

I don't know either but this is a great opportunity to make her wear a saree. "A saree."

"Saree?" She repeated softly. "Sounds about right. Alright, let's wear a saree!" Closing her laptop, she got up from the chair and walked towards the suitcases.

"Why don't you unpack?" I asked her.

She looked over her shoulder. "I- I didn't know if you would be comfortable with me using your space." She admitted.

I sighed. "Then were you going to use your suitcase as your wardrobe for the rest of your life?"

She shook her head.

"Let's unpack first," I flipped in my bookmark and closed the book, keeping it on the nightstand before joining her to help. "They look heavy so let me carry them. Go and shift my clothes to make space for you in the meanwhile." I instructed.

She walked past me towards the cupboard.

I was in the middle of dragging her bags to the center of the room when I heard a quiet oomph. Turning around, I gasped noticing the mountain of unfolded clothes that tumbled all over Priya. I rushed closer, brushing away the clothes and finding my wife standing wide-eyed under them. "Sorry," I whispered, holding back a laugh as I made a pathetic attempt to fix her static hair. She huffed, swatting my hands away. I feigned a cough to camouflage my chuckle. "Are you okay?"

"I almost died of suffocation."

"Now that's an exaggeration." I smiled in amusement.

She rolled her eyes before giving my cupboard a judgemental look. "Let's fix the mess first."

"We can always push it aside-"

"No," she cut me off sternly. "We're fixing it."

"Okay," I mumbled.

She hoarded all the mess in her arms and tossed it over the bed. I helped her pick up the ones that had fallen on the floor. She sat on the front end of the bed while I occupied the space on the bottom end. We started fixing the mess, folding the casual clothes, hanging the formals, and separating the ties, belts, socks, and stuff. I was glad there was a separate drawer for my underwear. Though I did find some of them in the sea of these clothes, I was quick to hide them before she could notice. By the end of all, I realised my cupboard actually has so much space and I was complaining for no reason. Everything fit perfectly and there was still so much space left for Priya.

The moment she opened her suitcase, I was astonished to see how effortlessly she had turned the bags into her mini cupboard. The towels were rolled, big and small separated. Her formals were in one suitcase, casuals in another and traditional in the third. She had packed her night clothes in the backpack which were only three pairs consisting of old tees and loose pants. I did not see her undies section so I assumed she must have hidden them well. So like me.

We started with her traditional clothes first since she rarely wore them. Then we lined her formals on the hanging bar and then neatly put all the casuals on the downside. Dusted and done, we took a step back, admiring our work.

"Good job, Mrs. Shrivastava," I raised my fist and she smiled, bumping hers with it. "So, what now?" I asked her.

She pursed her lips, as clueless as me before her eyes widened in realisation. "I need to get ready," she slapped her forehead and crouched, shuffling through her sarees to pick one for the evening. "How about this?" She pulled out a blue silk saree.

"I don't think that fits the context."

She put it back and grabbed a cotton green saree.

"Too simple."

She sighed, removing a heavy saree that was littered with red and gold work.

I scrunched my nose. "Too much,"

Her eyes narrowed in slits. "Aap hi chuniye, (You choose,)" she moved aside, giving me full access to her side of the wardrobe. I rubbed my hands together and stepped forward, looking through the different options.

"Yeh waali!" I pulled out a black saree with a gold border.

"That's black."

"So?"

She stared at me with a knowing look.

"Right," I understood why it wouldn't for today and placed it in her hands, contemplating the remaining options. "This one!" I grabbed a navy blue saree.

She put the others aside, taking this one with a pensive look. "It's Kanjeevaram silk." She lifted her gaze to meet mine.

I nodded, even though I have no fucking idea about the difference between the regular silk and Kanjeevaram silk. "It'll look good, this gold-"

"It's copper," she corrected me.

"Yeah, the design covers almost half of the pallu. It looks good." I said.

"Okay," she mumbled, still staring at the fabric thoughtfully.

"We can choose another one if you don't like this one," I suggested.

"No, it's not that. I just- I don't- I'll just wear it. It fits the occasion." She shrugged.

I smiled. "Wear the kamar bandh as well."

She chuckled. "I was thinking of carrying a free pallu rather than pinning it in folds."

"That'll look nice too." I nodded. "I'll head outside now. Feel free to take your time." I smiled at her and left the room with my unfinished book.

The living room was being prepared for the function. They were snacks on the table, a plate containing coconut, rice, and all other stuff that I can't bother to remember. I plopped down beside dad who was watching sports. It's praiseworthy how he can be so focused on his game while the ladies of the house are shouting from one end to another end about stuff that needs to be done. I can never read in so much noise. Tucking the book beside me, I watched television along with him, though everything went over my head.

"Shit," Meghna muttered, catching my attention. "Adi, Priya needs my help with something but my Myntra delivery is here. Can you go and check up on her? If it's a girl's problem then tell her to wait or get Neelam Bua. I'll be back immediately!" She left the house hurriedly.

I stared into the space in confusion. There must be a reason why she called Meghna and not me despite not having that comfort level with her. With a defeated sigh, I got up and made my way towards the bedroom.

I knocked twice, awaiting her response.

"Come in,"

I turned the knob, halting abruptly when I realised she must think I'm Meghna. Deciding to clear her confusion, I said, "It's me."

There was no response from inside for a while.

"Can you get Meghna for me?" She asked timidly.

"Her delivery has just arrived. She needed to go down. Should I call Neelam Bua?"

"Yeah, thanks!"

I turned and walked back into the living room, searching around for Neelam bua. Just as mom walked past me, I grabbed her elbow. She looked at me impatiently. "Where's Neelam Bua?"

"I don't know. Probably outside." She shrugged, walking away.

I went back to tell Priya.

"Is no one there? Ladies I mean?" She asked softly.

"Mummy is in the kitchen. Do you want me to call her?"

She contemplated, and that made me understand she is aware of the fact that my mother isn't much fond of her. But that's given considering how mom has been treating her since the beginning.

"You come," she sighed.

I stiffened. "Are you sure? I'll drag Meghna here if it's so urgent," I suggested. If she needs help from someone of the same gender, then I'll arrange one.

"No, just come," she muttered.

I pushed the door open, freezing at the threshold at the sight that greeted me. My feet almost backtracked but I forced myself to stand still. This was not the sight I had expected to see. But I wasn't complaining. I was just taken aback.

She stood in the middle of the room, wearing the matching blouse with the end of the saree tucked carefully in her underskirt, the rest of it clutched in her hand as she stared at me helplessly.

I closed the door softly behind me.

"Wh-What is it?" I avoided looking at her as much as I could.

"I can't manage the pleats. The more I do, the more they slip out of my hands." She grumbled. "Just help me out at this point." Her frustration level sounded through the roof.

"Me?"

"Everyone else is busy." She reasoned.

I nodded.

But I don't know how to make pleats either.

"I- I don't know-"

"It's okay, come here I'll teach you." She beckoned me closer. "It's just that my fingers are small and this saree is so big and heavy. My hand is tired from trying to keep all the pleats together. No matter how hard I clutch them, one or the other slips out and I've to do it all over again!"

I hummed, trying to sympathise with her even though I can't even relate to her struggles.

"See, fold this, then fold this the other side. And hold it between your forefinger and thumb." She handed me the saree. I swallowed but nonetheless followed her directions. "Good going," she smiled, looking a lot more relieved and relaxed than I would have expected her to be in such a situation.

Should I be happy that she is so comfortable around me in the beginning days of our wedding or sad that my proximity doesn't make her as nervous as hers do to me?

Disgruntled at the thought, I accidentally tugged at the saree, causing her to step closer. She grasped my shoulder with a gasp, pulling away hurriedly as I loosened my hold on the saree. While I continued as though nothing happened, she fiddled with her wrist, stared around like a clueless traveler, and didn't speak a word. I smirked, satisfied.

"Done," I looked up, my eyes traveling over her chest to meet her eyes. She quickly brought her arm up, a subtle attempt to cover her chest by scratching her neck. "What should I do next?"

"Put it in," she whispered.

My eyes widened. "What?"

She blinked rapidly. "I- I mean, in my underskirt. I'll do it." She snatched the pleats from me. But I had a tight hold on them so a few of them remained in my fist, in the end, messing up everything and bringing us back to square one. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" She left the pleats to cover her mouth, looking at me guiltily.

I sighed exasperatedly.

"I'm sorry," she said feebly, interlacing her hands on her chest while I picked up the residue of the lengthy saree and started again. This time it was a lot easier than before since I knew how to do it correctly.

"There," I murmured. She reached out to take them from me but I tugged at her underskirt and shoved the pleats inside. She froze. "Done," I looked up, fixing the creases formed on the waistband of the skirt.

She stood stoned to her spot while I picked up the remaining saree and leaned in to wrap the end around her waist. Holding the edge properly, I tugged at it so it wouldn't gather in the corners and propped it on her right shoulder. "Safety pin?"

She pointed at the bed.

"Hold this,"

She obliged wordlessly.

When I came back, she left the pallu but it was so heavy that it slipped down her shoulder, falling to her waist. I clenched my jaw and looked away while she quickly fixed it back. Stepping closer, I breached the two fabrics with the safety pin and locked them together. Instead of pulling away, my hand lingered on her left elbow, watching her from up close. The fuck she is so beautiful for!?

"Ho gaya. (It's done.)" She reminded me softly.

"I know," I whispered.

"Aditya,"

"Hmm?"

"Kuch nahi, (Nothing.)"

I chuckled breathlessly. "You drive me so crazy," I murmured, my lips an inch away from her ear. She clutched my arm tightly. "We're going fast."

"Yes," she agreed.

"I won't try anything. Let's just stay like this for a while." I requested, my lips craving to touch her skin. But I can't. I need to take it slow. I just can't jump at the opportunity because she is equally attracted to me. I know we're not comfortable about breaching the safe line yet.

"Okay," she murmured, her forehead gently falling to rest against my chest.

I breathed in her scent, my arms slowly wrapping around her waist. She closed the remaining distance, her arms crawling over my back and holding onto my shoulders. "Is this comfortable?"

"It is safe," she answered, holding onto me tighter. I frowned. "It feels so safe." Her voice wavered.

"Priya," I called out in a softer timbre.

She inhaled deeply and moved away, her hair clinging to my shirt for a fleeting second more. "It's late," she looked at the wall clock, avoiding looking at me. She didn't want to talk about it.

"I'll be outside. Let me know if you need any more help." I offered.

"I'll be fine now. Thanks," she flashed me a small smile.

I nodded and left the room, still thinking about the little intimate moment we had that abruptly took an emotional turn in the end. The way her voice wavered, as though she was holding back an ocean of feelings from within, had me shrinking into a box of curiosity and concern.

Safe?

What does that mean? I'm definitely not the first man in her life. Though I intend to be last. But why would she say she feels safe? I mean, yes, I want her to feel safe around me, but not in the context of being the only man that has ever made her feel that way. The way she said those words felt more like they were a response to a trauma rather than a confession.

With a sigh, I made my way towards the kitchen to see if there was something to munch on. I found a box of banana chips and propped myself on the kitchen island, enjoying the crunchy snacks while still going Sherlock Holmes on the moment I just had with my wife.

Maybe it was nothing?

Maybe I'm just overthinking? Like always.

I nodded. Better to not assume than assume wrong and make a fool of myself.

I went back to the living room, watching from the sidelines as they performed Priya's Mu Dikhayi. I smiled every time someone complimented her. She was also good with kids that had accompanied their mothers and her little moments with them gathered some more appreciation. Meghna videographed the whole event. I set a reminder to myself to ask her for the video sometime later.

Once the function ended, the guests went back home and I took a sigh of relief. The whole thing lasted for about two hours and it was getting boring as hell.

"Tomorrow your uncle will be arriving to take you back home for the Pag Phera ritual," Mom announced at the dinner.

Priya nodded in response while I sat numb for a few minutes. Back home? No, why? What's the need? And for how many days? Why does she have to go back so early? She just came!

"Apne ghodo ko lagam de, bas do din ke liye jaa rahi hai woh. (Hold your horses, she'll be gone for only two days.)" Neelam bua chortled.

Two days!?

Two freaking days!?

Nah, that's so long.

"I can't wait to meet Preeti." I heard her whisper.

I sighed in defeat. Maybe it's in my fate to suffer for a partner as long as I'm alive.

Post dinner, everyone shifted to the living room. Because Dadi and Neelam bua was leaving on the day Priya will be coming back, they wanted to spend some time with her. I refrained from throwing a tantrum. But what about me!? Give me my wife back damnit. Let me spend some time with her as well.

I sulked in my room for more than two hours. Priya returned at around eleven pm, smiling softly at me. "You did not change yet?" She questioned. "Can I change first? This saree is suffocating me."

I nodded in response.

"Thanks," she mumbled, taking her clothes from the cupboard and heading inside the bathroom. When she came back, I went inside and by the time I was done, the lights were off and she was tucked in the bed.

I can't ever understand this woman. It's like she goes back to the initial settings after one process is executed.

Excuse me, woman? We had a very special moment this evening! Treat this night special. Spend it talking to me!

I snorted and went to lay on my side of the bed. She isn't even like those women from fiction who can't sleep straight and or have the habit of cuddling. No, she sleeps straight like a log. Not an inch from here to there. Perfectionist to the end.

I fell asleep while drowning in my miseries. The next morning I woke up before Tweety could do her job. Priya tries so hard to tip toe around and do things in silence, but she just can't. My mood dampened when I saw her all dressed for the day, her bag ready for the two days stay, and with a beaming smile on her face. I yanked the covers over my face, not wanting to see the happiness on her face.

I think if humans had a genre, I would be the melodrama.

"Aditya," she called out after some time.

I didn't respond.

"Aditya?"

I pretended to be fast asleep.

She sighed helplessly.

"Bye, Aditya," she murmured and left the room. Just as the door closed, I pushed the duvet down, staring at the rotating ceiling fan mindlessly.

A few minutes later tweety came and sat on my chest, not tearing through her vocal cords since I was already awake. I rubbed her head and she nuzzled into my palm.

"My wife's gone,"

She tilted her head at me.

"For two days," I added. "You know that feeling? When you buy yourself new clothes and keep them safe to wear them on a special occasion. But then that day comes and someone else wears it because you can't go and they like it so much so you've no choice but to let them have it?" I asked.

She was too busy in her little birdy world to pay attention to me.

"I know it's too specific to be a coincidence but it happens, you know?" I justified. "It does. It happens." I sighed. "Should I go to the office? I'm on leave but that's okay? Extra work did no one harm." I hushed her off and got off the bed, opening the cupboard to grab myself an outfit for the day. Her side revealed itself as soon as I pulled open the doors and I found myself missing her already.

Just yesterday I was thinking about how I wasn't accustomed to the change. Yet today the reason for that change not being present anymore is making me restless.

Pulling out my grey shirt and black trousers, I laid them out on the bed and chose a matching tie and black leather belt to go along with it. I headed inside the bathroom, not too worried about forgetting a towel since my room was all mine now. Was I trying to make myself feel better? Yes, I was. Was it working? Now, that's questionable.

I took my time, leisurely getting ready for the day. At breakfast, Bhai was surprisingly missing. For the last three days he had been coming to all meals that the rest of us usually eat together but today he isn't here. I know I shouldn't be looking too deep into it. He has promised me he'll try to get rid of his feelings for Priya. I know it's not an easy feat to achieve. You can't just lose your feelings for someone overnight. But his actions or instincts towards my wife annoy me a lot. I decided to brush off the thought unless and until it needs my immediate reaction and focused on filling my stomach. I wasn't hungry, to be honest. But I didn't want anyone to tease me about it and put the blame on Priya's absence.

The whole of that day was spent working and trying not to jump on my phone. I had my attention distributed between everything I was doing throughout the day and my phone. I wanted her to call me first. And I was not giving in to the temptation until she does. Let me see if she thinks of me as much as I think about her. Which is impossible but at least I can pretend. If she even thinks of me for a split second, I'll be happy as fuck.

The day ended on a sour note. She didn't call. I didn't call either. I had my lunch in silence, then went to my room and stayed up until late reading a book, partly because I couldn't sleep and partly because I was still waiting for her phone call. I felt like one of those people whose significant other works in the military. But at least those partners have a reason why they don't call. My partner had none.

I looked out of the window, drowning out the intimate and special moments I had with her yesterday. Maybe they mean nothing to her. Maybe it was just a moment of weakness, a result of attraction towards the opposite gender.

I stared into the night, at the dark sky, mindlessly counting stars because I had nothing better to do. I don't know when I fell asleep, but I was woken up to the shrill voice of Tweety destroying my ears and my already aching shoulders hurting more because of the position I slept in. I got off the couch with a groan, stuffed the book back in its place, and grabbed myself new pair of formals from the cupboard.

"Are you okay?" Mom asked when I entered the kitchen.

"You look like a panda. Literally. What's with those eyebags?" Neelam bua asked, causing Meghna to snicker.

"I swear I was going to say the same thing."

I rolled my eyes and sat down, flipping my plate just as mom served me breakfast.

"Biwi ki yaad aa rahi hai? (Missing your wife?)" Neelam bua teased.

I ignored her, looking around the table and counting the missing face. Bhai wasn't present for breakfast again.

I went office and drowned myself at work. Because I was still on my leave, no one really bothered me with anything important. But I still finished a week's worth of work in the last two days. I don't think I've ever worked so much before. That's because I can't start a new book as soon as I'm done with the previous one. I need a few days to get out of that world, those characters, and their personalities, and hence, it's extremely hard for me to connect with the new ones immediately after. I also like to drown in the misery of missing something important. My wife's already counted, let's add the plot of my previously read book to the list as well.

It was late in the evening and I was clocking out for the day when my phone rang. My hopes cratered upon noticing it was dad calling me.

"Yeah?"

"Are you still at the office?"

I hummed.

"Alright, you're having dinner at Priya's house with her family tonight. Bring her home with you afterward. Okay?"

I hummed, not really keen about meeting her. She didn't call me once. Not even fucking once. Not even a damn text. I was pissed.

"See you later," hanging up, I shoved the phone in my pocket and hired a cab to her house.

Her uncle and aunt welcomed me with bright smiles. Preeti was ecstatic too. I shared a broad smile to match their enthusiasm but I was sleep-deprived and frustrated. Priya approached me when everyone finally had their attention off me.

"How was your day?" She asked, reaching out to take my laptop bag.

"Fine." I held it back, making my way towards the couch to sit. Her uncle sat to give me company and we talked about work and politics for a while. Not my favorite subject but I don't know what else to talk about to keep the man entertained.

During dinner, Priya tried to take on the role of wife and serve me. I held her wrist, guiding the spoonful of rice towards her plate. "Help yourself," I reached out to fill my own plate.

I don't know how but everyone got the gist that we weren't on the greatest of terms as of now so they stirred the topic to everywhere else but our married life.

At around ten, we left her house after taking blessings from Mr. and Mrs. Upadhyay. She quietly handed me the keys and walked past the bonnet to sit in the passenger seat. I got in, slammed the door closed, and pulled the car out of the parking lot.

We didn't talk the whole drive back.

Upon reaching home, I climbed out of the car and opened the trunk to collect the gifts and sweets her family had given us before pushing it close and locking the car. I made my way towards the elevator while she followed me closely.

Mom and dad were still awake, watching television together. I answered their curious questions as briefly as I could and went to my room after handing them the gift bags and sweets. Priya excused herself shortly after. I grabbed myself a pair of night clothes and entered the bathroom to change. When I came back, she was seated on the bed with her clothes on her lap.

I pulled my glasses off and kept them on the nightstand, rubbing my eyes as a yawn broke through my mouth. Sliding inside the sheets, I turned off the lights and draped an arm over my forehead to fall asleep.

Soon enough I felt a presence beside me and turned to the opposite side.

"Did I do something?" She asked softly in the dark.

"It feels so safe."

I closed my eyes remembering the moment.

You make me feel so special one moment and absolutely nothing the next.

Aw, Adi, you smol bean. C'mere, there's a line of readers wanting to make you feel special.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter? Don't forget to vote and comment! Makes my day!