Baby steps are often better than sprinting. Sometimes, what we truly need is to slow down and take a look around. Is this our destination, or have we already passed it without realizing it?As an orphan, what I always craved was a sense of belonging—true belonging, something so pure that no one could take it away from me. I’ve always loved children, whether a girl or a boy.

I don't worry if they abandon me in old age or leave me without support because love and support are not things I've attained easily or without cost.

I've never experienced a true love’s kiss. The butterflies in my stomach have always been for me alone. The tingles in my arm, the wind's song—these were all one-sided. It’s true that love can make you blind. I was truly blind, unable to distinguish between love and infatuation, between genuine emotions and empty promises.

Emotions can be faked. And promises? They’re made to be broken.

***

I called him, but it went straight to voicemail, as it always did. This wasn't anything new.

With a loud sigh, I placed the telephone back in its holder. Feeling extremely bored, I started playing with the phone, dialling a random number.

"Hello, welcome to Malabar Jewellers..." I quickly hung up before the person could continue. Why is living alone so dull now? I used to enjoy my solitude, but now the waiting never ends. Is this what love is? Endless waiting?

But there's something I enjoy about it—thinking about him. His smile, those grey eyes, and his perfect cupid's bow. I still can’t believe he’s all mine.

I can't help it. I'm a possessive woman.

I glanced at the clock and smiled when I heard the doorbell. Quickly adjusting my kurta, I opened the door.

"Hey! How was your day?" I asked, helping him out of his blazer.

"Exhausting. Work was hectic today," he replied, removing his Rolex watch.

"You can go and freshen up. I’ll reheat dinner," I told him. He nodded, and I headed to the kitchen. After reheating the dishes, I sat at the dining table, waiting for him. A few minutes later, he entered in his comfy clothes. I smiled as I started serving him.

We ate in complete silence. One too tired to talk, the other lost in thought.

"How's the food?" I asked. He nodded and muttered a small "great" under his breath. He looked utterly drained, his eyes heavy with fatigue. I brought him a can of lassi to refresh him.

"Do you need a massage? You look really tired," I offered, noticing him rolling his shoulders.

"It's fine. I'm just too sleepy today," he replied. I shrugged it off.

"How was your day?" he suddenly asked. I looked at him, a little shocked; he had never asked me that question before. Maybe it was just a passing thought.

"Great," I replied, putting some stir-fried veggies into my mouth. The flavors melted in my mouth, giving me a moment of bliss. Food is my language, and cooking for my loved ones is how I show affection. I taught myself to cook like any other married woman—buying recipe books, asking my sweet neighbors for tips. We would share recipes, though Siddharth never liked me interacting with them, so I kept it a secret. It secretly irked me that he had his best friend living with us, but I couldn’t make friends with the neighbors.

"You’re a foodie, aren’t you? How about I open a restaurant branch so you can eat there whenever you want?" he suggested. It made me a little sad; any restaurant without him just served bland food. But eating veggies while looking at him made it all the more enjoyable. Why couldn't he understand that I craved his company more than food?

"Can we go on a picnic when your project is over?" I asked hopefully. It had been so long since we had a dinner date because of the project he was working on.

"Of course we can," he said, smiling at me, his eyes burning with an emotion I hadn’t yet figured out. "I promise I’ll take my princess on the best date ever."

"You’re spoiling me too much," I complained, pouting. He squeezed my cheeks and laughed before continuing to eat.

We ate quietly, then washed the dishes before heading to our room. A large frame of our wedding day hung above our bed. I was wearing a traditional Maharashtrian sari; since Siddharth's father was absent from his life and my parents were gone, we had a simple, sober ceremony. He stood beside me, his arms around me, but there was a shadow in the background—the one I had cut out, Karthik’s. It turned out the best picture of us was a group photo. Besides the photo frame, we had two sofas and a beautiful glass statue near the wall, which I never dared to touch.

I removed my eyeliner with makeup remover and let down my ponytail. My straight hair fell to my hips—it was the one feature I admired most about myself, my silky, smooth hair. Sid loved my hair, so I never trimmed more than two inches, though I usually asked for just one inch, but the parlour ladies always went a bit crazy with the scissors. As I combed my hair, my eyes met his through the mirror. His grey eyes, like gravity, pulled me in. He maintained eye contact as he approached, then took the comb from my hand.

He started combing my hair so slowly, it almost made me fall asleep, but his grey eyes kept me awake. His intense gaze through the mirror made me blush. Slowly, he lowered himself until his mouth was beside my ear.

"Will you come to bed?" he asked, his hot breath sending goosebumps down my neck.

"Of course, I was going to," I replied, turning to face him directly. "But we’re not going to sleep, are we?" I asked coquettishly, biting my lower lip. His attention shifted to my mouth, and he captured it in a soft kiss, treating me like I was a fragile princess. He picked me up and laid me down on the bed.

I watched as he moved around the room, searching for something. When he finally found it, he looked at me with that same lustful gaze I had when he glanced at the light switch.

The lights always bothered him when we made love, so we usually turned them off. I kissed his earlobe and reached out to find the switch. My hands slipped under his T-shirt as he unclipped my bra, and the room darkened as we lost ourselves in our shared fantasy.

****

So this is chapter 2. I hope you like it. Tell me your thoughts.

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