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Abhinandan POV

"I... I think you should not," she said, and I cleared my throat a little before asking.

"Why do you think so?" I asked, and she pulled the cauldron towards her and added a little water to wash down the stuck gravy.

"Because, honestly, it hurts to see people standing against you even if they pretend that they are not," she said; I lowered my gaze. I understood that she was speaking in reference to her father. He still was not over it, but he was not showing it either.

"But, you cannot go back to as if nothing has happened," I said, and she nodded.

"She is hurt, too. It's just that she is not showing it to anyone. And she cannot even show it to anyone, either, because then people will judge her even more. I feel like she is covering it up with a wide smile and hiding it behind the love," she said, and I nodded.

"I think she is happy, and I do not want to bother her now," I explained, and she nodded.

"Also, I do not think they love each other. It's just that now they do not have any option," I said, and she lowered her gaze.

"At least the idea of being in love and then staying together is better than looking out of options," she muttered. I pulled the Cauldron towards me and began to wash it.

"So, you think we look out of options?" I asked, but she did not say anything else.

"I do not know. But I cannot help but feel what we are now to each other, and the memory of you making me marry for the child has not faded away. This is something we cannot tell people, and we cannot tell that we love each other either. So, we actually look out of options," she said, and I looked away for a moment.

"Can two friends not get married?" I asked, and she looked up at me.

"I do not think we remained friends after I was accused of betraying you," she replied. I did not know why the conversation was becoming difficult and uncomfortable.

"Trisha, you did betray me. I expected much from you," I could not stop myself from saying. I knew these words would hurt her. But what was right was right.

"I know. But I thought you would understand," she replied, and I nodded.

"I do. I am not angry anymore, and I want you to forgive me too," I could not stop myself from saying, and she looked away for a moment.

The utensils clattered as she pulled them towards her and stood up to fill another bucket with fresh water.

"I do not have any reason to," she said in a low voice, and I bit my lip. As she transferred the water from one bucket to another, a few droplets splashed over my face. Even her skirt turned wet a little.

"And, If I give you a reason?" I asked, and she stared at me.

"Like what?" She asked in response, and I shook my head.

"I will find it out," I said. I still did not know what I should do to help her forgive me. I knew she wanted me to accept my likeliness towards her.

But what if she did not like me back?

What if she had someone else in her heart? Or no one, including me.

She never said that she liked me.

Sitting down again, she washed the utensils again, and I just stared at her silently. She was beautiful, and I did not know why, but she had looked really attractive since I had married her.

"Trisha," I said as suddenly a thought crossed my mind. "Hn?" She asked.

"Friendship is also a kind of love, no?" I asked, and she lifted her gaze with a frustrated look.

"I do not think so," she said, and I shifted closer to her to catch her attention.

"It is. Maasa told me once when I asked her about love. She said that Love is not just love, so since we are friends, we do love each other too," I tried to say, and she clenched her jaw and shook her head.

"Are we friends now?" She asked, and I knit my brows.

"When did I say we are not?" I asked, and she shook her head.

"Unbelievable," she muttered. She quickly finished washing all the utensils and put the smaller ones into the bigger ones.

"Come on, let's go," she said, looking around and noticing the darkness and silence.

"You are done?" I asked, and she nodded.

"Wait, that must be heavy," I said, taking the utensils. She picked up the rest of the things.

Once we reached the home back, I fixed the fire torch in the hanger while she put the utensils in the place.

"I want to change," I said before walking inside the hut and then to the trunk we brought with us.

After removing the royal clothes, I wore a full-length Lioncloth with a loose white kurta.

I was just rolling it down my head when she walked inside.

"It's late. We should sleep now," she said, and I nodded.

"Where?" I asked, and she looked around and walked towards a rolled mat.

"Um, I can sleep there behind the partition. And you can sleep here," she exclaimed, and my face fell.

"Oh," I muttered. I wanted to talk more with her. I was not asleep yet.

But then, considering the situation, I chose to stay silent.

"Are you okay with it?" She asked, and I nodded weakly.

"Yes," I muttered, and she brought a gents' shawl for me to cover me.

"There is only a blanket here," she said and turned to look at the partition, "It must be smelling me a lot," she said, and I immediately lowered my gaze to hide the slight smile that would have appeared on my face.

I would like her to smell better than this comfort.

"That's okay," but it did not seem right to push her, especially when she asked me to stay away from her. Well, she did not say it directly but asked me to stop when I wanted to.

"Okay," she muttered, and I nodded.

She walked a few steps away from me and placed her hand on the bamboo.

"Um, we can share the blanket if it gets cold," her words were merely a whisper.

"Oh," I gulped silently. This was difficult. So much difficult. Especially after the unsuccessful attempt at consummation.

Since then, I could not help but feel an itch in my lower abdomen. It lasted only for a few moments, but the sensations, feelings, and thrill it sent into my nerves were unforgettable.

"It's cold. I am feeling cold," I said. There was no lie but no truth either.

The weather was changing slowly, and it would get cold at night. And I did not want to wake up out of shivers.

"Then, come here," she said, and I looked at the mat and shawl she placed.

"Leave that there," she whispered in a slow voice, and I looked up at her. I could not understand her at this moment. She wanted me close, but she did not want me close.

I could not help but feel like a puppy. I would gather all my courage and power to go near her, and she would drain all of them just by looking away, pulling back, or with a small whisper of 'Stop'.

"Umm," I cleared my throat and looked at her. She turned around a little and then suddenly said.

"You should get into it. I shall get some water in case you feel thirsty at night,"

I looked at her for a moment and then nodded. "From where?" I asked, though.

"Um, just outside, from the pot," she said, and I nodded.

"Okay," I said and took slow steps towards her side of the partition.

She stepped aside, and I looked at the mattress on the floor. A blanket was kept aside. "I will be back in a moment," she said before walking away with a jug.

I inhaled deeply and sat down to lay on it. There was not much space for us. A small light lamp lit in the corner, and I could not help but notice her mild fragrance around me.

She did not smell too strong or fragrant. What I liked about her smell was that it was earthy and mild.

She felt natural. Nature.

In a few moments, she came back and placed the jug near us, and I could not help but notice her untucking her dupatta from her side. She knew I was watching.

But, neither she stopped it nor did I feel like looking away.

My sight noticed her navel, and when she took the dupatta off her chest, I gulped. But before I could sense anything, she threw it right to my face.

"Bhot besharam hai aap,"

"You are very shameless," she said, and a smile appeared on my face.

"Nazar nahi hata sakte hai?"

"Cannot you look away?" she asked, pulling her braid to the front and beginning to untie her hair.

"Hum kyu hataye? Patni hai aap hamari,"

"Why should I? You are my wife," I said, and she lifted her gaze to look at me and shook her head.

"Pehle to ese nahi the aap,"

"You were not like this before," she said, and I noticed the way her hair descends down her shoulder. She looked mesmerising. Maroon attire. Two sparkling bangles in each other hand. Kohl in her eyes, and the way the lamp was casting the dim lighting to her face. Uff.

"Pehle aap bhi nahi ese rehti thi hamare saath,"

"You did not behave like this with me before," I said, and she looked away for a moment and said.

"Sir me tail lagane ka man kar raha hai. Bhaari ho raha hai,"

"I feel like oiling my hair. It's feeling heavy," she said, and I licked my lips.

"Hum lagade?"

"Shall I?" I asked, and she chuckled.

"Aap?"

"You?" she asked, and I nodded.

"I used to oil my grandfather's, father's, and Daadisa's hair in my childhood. And I have not forgotten it yet," I said, and she smiled and walked away. I put her dupatta aside and closed my eyes for a few moments until she came back with a small bowl and mustard oil in it.

"Chaliye dekhte hai kya seekha fir aapne,"

"Let's see what you have learned, then," she said, sitting beside me with her legs crossed to one side.

"Okay," I muttered before sitting up and bending on my knees to balance our heights for the oiling. Her head reached my chest, and it was perfect.

"Bas hamare kesh mat todiyega,"

"Just do not break my hair," she muttered, and I smiled a little.

I noticed her relaxing her shoulders and pushing her hair back. Once rested, they could reach the mattress.

"You have such beautiful hair," I could not help but admit, and she laughed a little.

"These days, you find everything beautiful about me. What is new?" she asked. I cleared my throat and noticed her keeping the bowl of oil in her hand, which was easily accessible to me.

"You are beautiful," I said and suddenly she looked back a little and asked.

"Am I not too dark? Like, Princesses are bright. Look at your sister; she is a diamond. She sparkles; she literally sparkles in the sunlight. An—"

"And you sparkle too," I immediately cut her off. "It's just she sparkles like a diamond, and you sparkle like gold," I said, and she smiled.

"Very well," she muttered, and I took my fingers closer to her hair and gently brushed it a little. It was soft and wavy and beautiful, dark and heavy. Someone could get lost in it.

But, suddenly, my sight fell on a small scratch in the corner of her neck. My fingers gently arched her face to the side, and she stiffened.

"What happened?" she asked. "How did you get this scratch?" I asked, and she stayed silent for a moment.

"I do not know. Um, I felt like something was itching," she muttered and suddenly looked up at me. "Oh, it must be the choker," she said, and I left her neck.

"Aadat nahi hai na abhi hume. Paalki me aakh lag gayi thi to shayad tabhi lag gaya hoga,"

"I am habitual yet. I fell asleep in the Palanquin; it might have gotten then," she said, and I gulped, caressing it a little. She inhaled deeply, and my heartbeat stopped when, for a moment, I noticed her neck bones and sharp shoulder blades.

"Dhyan rakha kijiye,"

"You should be careful," I muttered, and she nodded.

When I pulled my hand from her neck, she immediately touched it.

"Is it too much?" she asked, and I whispered, "No,"

She relaxed a little bit and sat silently, placing her empty hand on her lap. I could not help but notice the vermillion filled in her hair. A sense of pride ran into my body.

I bit my lip out of slight nervousness and began by parting all her hair in two sections. I pushed the first one to the front.

"You seem really good at it," she said, and at that moment, I just wanted to kiss her head for once. She was very precious to me.

And I could not stop my intrusive thoughts. I quickly pecked her head, and she shrunk a little.

"Aapko pata hai hamare baalo ko kabhi kisi ne nahi chua?"

"Do you know that no one has touched my hair yet?" she said in a low voice, and I smiled. "Umm-hmm," I hummed while applying a little bit of oil to my fingers and gently rubbing them against her partition. I did not take my fingers closer to her vermillion.

"Your hands are a little rough," she muttered. I just sat silently and began parting her hair in small sections, applying the oil to her head, and massaging gently. I learnt this from my Maasa and Daadisa. They used to oil Nandani's long hair like this.

She sat silent as I finished the first side. Once I was done, I pushed those hairs to the front, and she pushed the non-oiled hair back, inhaling a deep breath.

"Humne kabhi nahi socha ki aap hamare sir me tail lagayenge,"

"I had never thought you would oil my hair," she muttered. I did not know I was enjoying her little talk.

"Really?" I asked, and she nodded.

"What did you think of us then?" I asked, and she shook her head a little.

"Nothing," she breathed.

"And, what do you think of us now?" I asked in a slow voice. This was the most daring thing I would have asked.

And, she stayed silent.

I kept parting her long hair and applying the oil. And, suddenly, she asked.

"What do you want me to think of us?"

I lowered my gaze and ran my finger in her hair. As they stuck a little, she leaned her head back in the effect with a soft sigh.

"Anything you want," I muttered. I could not tell what I was thinking of us because that would be way too impure.

I wanted us to consummate again. I got scared when she hissed in pain, but it sparked something in me. I felt as if I would want to hear it again.

"Do you want to be a father?" she asked suddenly in a slow voice, and I bit my lip.

"Of our child?" I questioned, and she nodded.

"Of course. Whose child then?" she asked, and I smiled widely. A mere fraction of jealousy was lit.

"I do not know. I am scared of the process," I could not stop myself from saying, and she turned silent momentarily.

"You know how babies are born?" she asked suddenly, and I nodded. "Hn," I hummed, clearing my throat.

"It pains like the many bones of the body have broken to the woman," she said, and I lowered my gaze.

"Another reason not to have a baby," I muttered. I did not know why it was making my heart ache. Maybe I knew that it was not possible to stay like this forever.

"Babies are a blessing," she muttered, and I clenched my jaw. She would leave me after the baby, and I knew what she was trying to do.

"But at a great cost," I managed to say, and she muttered in a slow voice. "It must be not all bad; otherwise, the women would not be so happy after marriage,"

I closed my eyes for a moment. "I know you care about me, but responsibilities are responsibilities," she said, and I immediately replied.

"I am thinking of becoming a sage,"

And she immediately turned around and slapped my chest. "Shut up," she muttered, and a soft chuckle escaped through my lips.

"Are you trying to make up my mind so that we can try again?" I asked, wondering if she could stop beating around the bush and say it clearly.

"I mean," she whispered. "Why not?" she asked, and a broad smile appeared on my face.

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