Simran

******

I woke up with a smile on my face. After so many days, I had such a pleasant dream. I mean, the dream I had of Kiaan the previous evening was nice too, but then again, it had Kiaan in it, so it was not perfect. But this one was solely for me. I saw that I had just received one of the prestigious awards for my dance. I stood on the stage, holding it and smiling, and was about to give my winning speech when my slumber broke. I was sad I could not give the speech, but happier that I was holding that award, even if in a dream. I knew one day I would turn it into my reality.

Lying on the bed lazily, not wanting to get up, I noticed the curtains flowing in. Soft and bright sunlight cascaded through the linings of the curtains, almost reaching my face. The weather seemed to be really beautiful, and I realized I was simply letting the really pleasant and beautiful weather go to waste.

I still had a week left to join my dance academy, so I started thinking about what I would do for a week in that haunted house like villa. Then I realized I had someone to talk to. Tharki. So what if she could not reply? At least she could listen, that too without any judgment, and without fighting, unlike the beast.

Popcorn and Biscuit were at Saavi's place and were about to stay there for a week until I had gotten better and gotten used to this new place, so I only had Tharki to talk to.

"What do you think, Tharki, what should we do next? Should we party and make a mess out of his villa?" I giggled thinking about it and sat up straight before I made Tharki sit too.

"Nah, that's too old school, isn't it?"

I knew she agreed with what I said. She was smart, just like me.

"How about we start by turning this monstrous villa into our home?" The villa, which I had not explored much, screamed authority and power, and of course, it looked more frightening than welcoming. I wanted to change that. I never wished to seem unwelcoming or live in a place that carried the same harsh vibes. I wanted it to radiate comfort, a sense of care, so that anyone who lived there or visited would not feel as though they had to battle invisible demons, the demons of their own mind. I wanted it to feel sunny and bright, like the weather outside, ready to embrace us in the sheen of comfort.

"I wonder how our husband finds it comforting," I said to Tharki, who just stared at me and listened.

"I mean, I agree he is a monster himself, but doesn't he crave care? How are his parents so loving but not him..." 

There were so many questions about Kiaan that started running through my mind. I never thought in that direction, but now that I was certain his parents and his family were this good, there was only one way for him to be so unhinged. He was hiding his real face from the world because of something that happened, something that maybe scares him. Could it even be possible that he would have gotten hurt, and he chose to turn into a beast instead of dealing with that pain?

"Do you think something happened to him?" I asked Tharki, but then I shook my head, forcing those thoughts out of my head. My head was running in the wrong direction, so I paved the right path for it. There was no way he was hurt; otherwise, he would have killed the person who hurt him already. Not everyone deserved my kindness, especially not my husband.

I looked at Tharki and said with firm resolution, "You know he was quite desperate to marry me and did leave no stone unturned as if he loves being a husband...."

My eyes widened with the idea I got because of my statement. 

I was born a genius.

"He loves being a husband, doesn't he? He thinks husbands order their wives around and that's how a marriage works." I smiled, thinking of what I was gonna do.

"You just wait, Kiaan. I will show you what being a husband is all about. You did not marry a woman. You married a crazy woman...." I paused, looked at Tharki, and added, "... and a skeleton..."

Giggling, I high-fived Tharki. I meant I held her bony hand up and then high-fived.

"You wanted to be Pati Parmeshwar so bad, now I will make you my legit God...." I vowed that I was literally going to worship my man so much that he would start regretting marrying me.

******

Kiaan

******

I was bored to death. Working never bored me before. I was a workaholic, always prioritizing my work over everything, but right now, dealing with my own employees seemed like a strenuous task. Not only did my employees' existence bother me, but even the clients. I did not build an empire of real estate just out of boredom. I worked day and night, poured my blood and sweat, to lift my organization to worldwide heights and bring it to this top level. Not only do we have rich clients worldwide, but we also offer services to those in need, even if they cannot afford them. But my organization was not a day's affair. I worked on it for twelve continuous years, even when I was only a kid. So, when I said my work never bored me before, I meant it. But now, it was not the same. Right now I just could not stop thinking about a woman, my woman, who was at my place, not sure doing what. Perhaps she was exploring our mansion, or maybe dancing her heart out. Most probably, planning something against me. A smirk appeared on my face just thinking of her audacity to try to scare me with a skeleton. I wondered what more she had in store for me.

I waited calmly for the discussion about merging another real estate startup into ours to end, but the more calmness I showed, the more anxious I got. I kept checking the time because the man who always stayed late at work was about to head home way too early. The discussion eventually ended. But before I could take a breath of relief, someone spoke up, delaying my departure from my office.

"Rumours are circulating." Ivan Marshall, CEO of Safety Nets, the organization that we were about to merge with, said.

"Since when did you start entertaining them?"

"Since it starts involving you."

I knew they got a whiff of the wedding. My wedding was still a secret affair, considering no one had seen Simran's face yet. They knew I was married, but did not have proof to prove that. Besides, the pictures Simran circulated of ours, for which the reporter asked for my approval before publishing, were still a hot topic in the town. Even in the pictures, she did not look familiar to the others, and people had been speculating who was with me in them. The wedding pictures had not leaked because of the threat I made to those who attended the wedding and because of the tight security, so everyone could only wonder if I was really married or not.

"Focusing on the merger is what would help you reach unimaginable heights and not any rumor," I said, getting impatient, to just barge out of the conference room.

"I understand. But I am curious. Are you really married?"

He eyed my ring finger. It was empty. An empty ring finger should not have bothered me, yet it did.

"If I had to reveal my private life in business meetings, I would be walking drenched in blood instead of wearing Armani," I replied in a cold tone.

"Why so serious? He was just kidding." Ivan's father, Ian Marshall, the COO of Safety Nets, said. He was a smart gentleman who knew when to open his mouth and when to keep it shut.

"Ivan, if he were married, he would throw a reception party and announce it to the world. Stop putting your nose in other people's private affairs." He smartly rebuked him. It was not an insult, but a warning wrapped in a gentle tone to his son.

"Fine, but if that is true in any case, we would really like to meet who had the courage to even say yes. Or maybe we know. Is it that girl from the article?" I hated how he brought her up, and the way she was brought up did not sit well with me. She was not just the girl from the article. She was everything.

"If that were true, instead of courage, madness would be involved .... Pure madness. That is far more authentic...and dangerous...especially for those who can't keep their mouths shut." I gave him a poker face before I added, "The kind of madness which makes bodies disappear without a trace."

Ivan exhaled and fell silent before reaching for the glass of water, trying to wash down the fear lodged in his throat. The Marshalls knew I thrived on giving threats and living in danger. That was why they didn't dare oppose my proposal to merge their organization into mine. And now, at last, they stayed quiet, because, like I said, I thrived on threats, while others surrendered to them.

******

My day had been hectic, not in terms of tiredness but in terms of anger. I had to legit control myself around stupid people. But I work with those stupid people who had only one question, which was about my personal life. The Marshalls were another topic, but then my employees, too, had not stopped gossiping about it. I did not mind their gossiping about me, but I did mind having them talk about my wife. Human brains were wired like that, to take an interest in others' business even if their whole existence was questionable or even if their life were in shambles. And I hated it. A reception party would shut their mouths once and for all, but I needed time for it. Until then, either I would be firing those who I heard saying any stupid thing about my wife, or maybe would kill them.

When I stepped inside my house, it seemed like any other usual day. The house was the same as before, but there was an essence of her that enveloped me. I knew she was there, in my keep. That stupid organ started beating erratically just with her thought, and I...I stopped in my tracks.

I had not been acting myself, and this was not right. This was not how things panned out in my head. I stood there, right in my hallway, my eyes scanning the area. It did not seem like she was closer, but I craved for her glimpse. Just one glimpse and I....

"Good evening, Sir." Shayla's arrival broke my trance of arrayed thoughts. I felt normal again. By normal, I meant a beast without a heart.

"Good evening, Shayla. How was everything? I hope the onboarding of the other staff went well."

Shayla had been working for me for seven years, though she had always been assigned to my estate in New York. I brought her here so that Simran could feel comfortable around her, and I instructed Shayla to appoint other female staff members for my wife as well. Before Simran, I had never appointed female staff, but sometimes you have to bend rules for certain people. And for my wife, I would bend every single one of them.

"Yeah, well, it did. There was this minor issue, but I made sure things were sorted."'

"What minor issue?" I was already calculating what would have gone wrong. If any of them did something to my wife, my rifle would get empty sooner than I thought.

"A few staff got scared..." The minor issue sounded something different, though.

"Scared of what?"

"Your second wife's skeleton..." she replied. I glared at her, and then she corrected herself with, "I mean, Tharki..." She had hardly been there for a few hours and already learned the name of my wife's pet skeleton.

Great! Just great!

"Next time someone faces an issue like that, fire them. And if you feel scared too, you are free to leave as well." I said before I headed for the library. 

Even though I left the office early, I still had a phone call meeting to attend. I was on a call in the library, pacing around and almost wrapping up when Ethan, the head cook, knocked.

"Mail me the documents once they are prepared. I need to go through them." I said to my assistant over the call before I hung up. Ethan came up with my black coffee and handed me the same. Just then, I heard giggles, soft ones, almost like a symphony of joy, pure innocence. I walked to the open window. Ethan's voice was running in the background, and I could only hear her  voice, talking to someone, and nothing else. As I walked closer to the window, I recalled a moment from my childhood.

I will make a villa for you.

Will you stay there with me?

Of course I will, silly. There, you can laugh as much as you want, and no one will say anything.

Not even the monsters?

There would be no monsters, firefly.

Who would have thought the boy who promised her a safe space without monsters would himself become one?

I still remember her smile that spread across her face when I had made that promise. Now that I fulfilled her wish, even if partially, my heart ached that she did not remember me. But then, it was better if she did not. Sometimes I crave for her to remember me. Though sometimes I understand that she has forgotten her painful memories, including me. Yet most of the time, almost always, I hated her for not remembering me at all.

When I looked out of the window, I could not believe what I saw.

"What the hell!" I exclaimed.

She had applied some kind of face mask to the skeleton and to herself as well while they both lay on the poolside. She was wearing pajamas, but the skeleton was in a bikini. Not only that, she had put cucumbers on the skeleton's hollowed eyes area and, the most eccentric part, she was talking to it.

"What's going on down there?" I asked in confusion.

"Tea party of your wives..." Ethan replied, smiling, still standing at his place. I gave him an angry, incredulous look.

"She is not my wife..." I affirmed.

"But then why would she tell me she is your wife?"

How did that skeleton tell him that shit? What the heck was going on?

"That skeleton talked to you?"

"No, I mean, Simran Ma'am."

Ethan was not dumb. He was a generous, honest man in his fifties, but acting like he had lost his mind.

"Simran is my wife, but not that hideous skeleton."

"Should I have it removed?"

"NO," I said sternly. I looked at both my wife and her new toy through the window. She was enjoying the skeleton's company as if it were a real person. I could not have it removed just because I hated the guts of it.

"Whatever my wife wants to keep should stay here. And I warn you if she faces any discomfort."

"Who should not face discomfort?" I exhaled as I gritted my teeth and clarified, "My wife."

"Which one?"

I seethed at his question as I coldly stated for him to remember, "I have only one wife, Simran Chauhan. She is not to get hurt by any means. Do you get that?"

"I understand that very well, Sir. Rest assured that we will take good care of her." That was not enough. She needed more than just good care. Anyone could provide her with good, but that was ordinary, and nothing ordinary would ever touch her again.

"Best care. I don't want good for her, I want the best for her, perfect even." Ethan nodded before he left. I looked out of the window again, watching her play some music on her phone.

She was giggling and... wait...

Did she just tickle that skeleton? Yes, she did.

I could not help but chortle.

"I married a lunatic."

******

"Sir, where are you going?" I heard Shayla ask as I headed to my room from the library.

What was wrong with people daring to ruffle my feathers?

Did they all have a death wish?

I had not realized the time when I was in the library as I got immersed in reading the documents my assistant had mailed me. It had already been night, hours had passed, and now, when I headed to my room, others had problems with that too.

"As far as I remember, I hired you for my wife, not to keep an eye on me."

She looked a little hesitant before she replied, "I am here because of her."

"What is it?"

"She cooked for you and wants you to have dinner with her."

If she cooked for me, she could have called me herself. Why send a staff? And why did she have to cook? What was she even doing in the kitchen when she should have been resting instead?

"Where were you when she was cooking? Didn't I tell you I won't tolerate her facing any kind of trouble?"

"I know that, but she told me it was an important ritual."

"What ritual?" What was that supposed to mean? I was sick of those stupid customs. Surely it was my family who had planted that idea in her head. I wondered what this new custom was now.

"In this ritual, the wife cooks for her husband, and she should not be the one calling him to eat. It's a bad omen."

I had never heard of any such custom. And sending Shayla to get me was surely just her way of avoiding me. But if she truly wanted to avoid me, then why bother cooking for me at all? Then again, it was Simran, my dear wife. I knew she had made up that custom, and yet she had even managed to feed those lies to the staff, who had no choice but to oblige.

"Fine. I'll be there in ten minutes," I said, rushing to my room to change out of the work clothes I was still in.

I reached the dinner table only for my mood to sour instantly. That idiot skeleton was sitting on the right side of the head chair, and it was wearing a saree. My real wife was sitting on the left side of the head chair, wearing a pink saree herself. Her hair was tied up in a bun, and a few tendrils fell on her face, skating on the soft skin of her cheeks. I hated those tendrils because they were touching her, and she was letting them do as they pleased. She had not noticed me yet, and I just stood there, admiring how adoringly beautiful she looked with that yellow bindi on her forehead. She had paired a yellow blouse with the pink saree, and it matched aesthetically.

I wished for the time to freeze, so that I could just walk to her and touch her, maybe open her hair and warn those unruly tendrils not to flirt with my wife. But then her eyes found mine. She saw me eventually, and I was forced to pretend again. I had to mask my expressions of admiration with one of annoyance, and then I walked closer.

"What's for dinner, darling wife?" I asked, pulling out the head chair and settling into it.

She looked flustered, her cheeks turning a shade of pink even deeper than her saree.

Was it because I called her wife?

If just that word could set her cheeks on fire, then I'd make sure to call her that every time, anytime.

"Your favorite...."

I grew curious. She didn't know my favorite dish, actually, no one did. Or rather, she once knew, but she didn't remember it now.

She lifted the lid from one of the vessels on the table, and at once the smell of chocolate filled the air. But... why did it look black? And why did it have rice in it?

"Chocolate biryani..." she said, grinning.

"This..." I pointed at the strange dish and finished my question, "...is my favorite?"

"Not only this. I've made all your favorites."

I instantly regretted not staying back at the office. At least there, I could've watched her smile through the CCTV. But no, I had wanted to see her in person. And now here I was, stuck with chocolate biryani and who knew what other horrors were coming.

"Karele ka juice," she announced, pointing at the glass of green liquid.

[Bitter Melon's juice]

"And for dessert...chilli mustard sauce cupcakes."

She served each monstrosity onto my plate one by one. But left her plate empty.

"You aren't eating?"

"I have kept fast today."

How convenient for her. She fasted on the very day she cooked the worst meals humankind had ever witnessed.

"Fast? Let me guess... you're asking God to fix your madness?" I asked with a smile. I couldn't show my anger, at least not in front of the staff who were roaming around.

"Or wait... maybe you're finally asking him for a brain. It's about time you needed one..." I hit her with a sarcastic remark.

She glared at me, then quickly composed herself and smiled sweetly.

"I kept the fast, so that God calls you to him as soon as possible."

I chuckled humorlessly.

"Oh, why bother God, sweetheart? Your food is going to do exactly that..."

She gave me a fake, shy smile and urged me to eat, insisting she wouldn't leave until I finished it all. I stared at the food, dangerous enough to kill anyone, but I couldn't just walk away and put her in a bad position. I knew I had to eat. But it wasn't because of the staff. I would have eaten whatever she cooked, no matter who was present.

There was a triumphant smile on her face, one that began to vanish the moment I started eating.

My wife cooked a meal for me for the very first time. How could I have skipped it?

Even if it had poison, I knew I would eat it with a smile. I wasn't bluffing when I had told the Marshalls there would be madness involved when it came to my wedding. That's exactly what our marriage was: madness, chaos, and craziness.

******

Simran

******

I had planned everything to embarrass him. I cooked for three hours, and the result was quite tasty; however, I messed with it after it was cooked. I cooked delectable biryani, but added melted dark chocolate before putting it in a vessel. I did the same with chilli mustard cupcakes and about karele ka juice...well, that was a last-minute addition. Honestly, I already had dinner, hiding from every staff member, and now that my husband was having the worst food combination ever made for mankind, I could not help but feel guilty.

This was not part of my plan. I was not supposed to feel terrible. I had a different picture panned out in my head, but the reality turned out to be quite unusual from what I expected.

I had pictured him yelling at me, shouting at me like a madman, or maybe humiliating me so that I could get his truth out in front of his staff as well. I would have replied with equal force, but the scene that unfolded was quite contradictory to my imagination. He was eating what I cooked, not rushing to end it fast, exactly eating it, as if he was enjoying the entire menu.

"What are you doing?" I asked, feeling guilty and sad.

"Eating..." By the time I could say anything, he had finished the bitter melon juice already. My conscience did not let me sit quietly and watch him suffer like that, even when it should have been a payback for his deeds and not any crime. When he put the chilli mustard sauce cupcake in his mouth, he coughed. I hurriedly handed him the glass of water, and he gulped the entire glass.

"Kiaan, stop...." I said. My concern began to grow, but that man seemed adamant about finishing everything on his plate.

"Kiaan...just stop eating...." I held his hand, which was holding the spoon now. He gave me a poker look and replied, "My wife cooked this meal with so much dedication. I don't think I can stop."

He kept eating, coughing, gulping water until he cleaned his plate. No trace of food was left on it.

"Tell me, sweetheart, what more do you have for me?" I sat there, drowning in guilt. When it became unbearable and I could not take it anymore, I got up abruptly and left. My eyes burned, began to brim with tears, but I refused to let him see me like that, ashamed with guilt and vulnerable. Because if he had seen me in that state, it would have meant he won, and I would have never let that happen.

I knew what his game was. He wanted me to feel bad, and he was actually succeeding. But my next hit was going to be a huge one.

Don't worry, husband, this is not the end. I will come back stronger and will defeat you.

******

Kiaan

******

I stood in front of the key wall in the chamber, which was in my walk-in closet, deciding on what vehicle I should take with me. I had a race in like thirty minutes, but reaching the venue was also when I raced with air. I was about to pick up the keys to my Bugatti Chiron from the wall when I heard a knock. For some reason, everyone had planned not to let me be at peace for once.

"What is it, Ethan?" I yelled from the inside.

"It's me, your wife."

My wife.

It sounded so good that my lips curved. I wondered what she was doing there. There was no way she was there for any sane reason. Perhaps she got me something weirder to eat or drink. My insides begged me to stop when I kept eating what she cooked for me, but I knew I would do it again without any hesitation.

"Mr. Chauhan, you do remember that you have a beautiful wife, right?"

I smiled when I heard an impatient query from her.

I don't think I had smiled or even laughed that much in years as I had in the past two days. And of course, how could I forget I had a wife now, an enchanting one on top of that. I could not forget that even if I got amnesia. The best part is that she would be reminding me about her existence with her craziness every single moment.

I walked out of the closet and asked, "What do you want?"

Standing outside of the half-closed door, where she was still not visible to me, she replied with, "I am coming in, so if you are naked, just wrap your tiny dick with something..."

Tiny dick?

The door creaked open, and she stepped in. She had to have lost her mind to objectify me like that. Tiny? That wasn't even close.

"You didn't just call..." Words died in my mouth when I saw what she brought with her. My focus shifted from her earlier comment to the thing in the picture, which escalated my anger.

"What the fuck is that thing doing here?" She was holding the skeleton, which was now wearing one of her pajamas. She was still in her pink saree, though.

"Don't be so rude, Tharki just wanted to spend time with her husband."

Husband? For god's sake, I was not any husband of that terrible-looking skeleton.

"This will be our bed from tonight, Tharki." She said to the skeleton as she began taking it to the bed after shutting the door from inside.

"Simran, take this out before I tear it apart limb by limb..."

"I love that you care this much. But guess what, Mr. Chauhan, the staff are still awake doing their jobs. If you want, I can just walk out, and they will know this wedding was a hoax, a showoff. I mean, they can easily make out with the way we won't be sharing a room. Besides, it's not my reputation on the line."

I stood there in her way, glaring at her. She looked scared for a bit, then sighed as she glanced at the skeleton and gloomily mumbled, "Come on Tharki, looks like there is separation written in our stars from our husband."

She turned to the door, and I realized she was right. The staff should not see us not sharing a room.

"Wait...." I stopped her, and she turned around. An innocent smile spread on her lips, but I knew how innocent it was. She waltzed into my room with a full-proof plan, and it was working. Now I could not even leave for the race, and I did not think staying with that skeleton was a viable option either. Yet I said, "Stay here. I will fix the staff problem soon, but until then, stay in this room."

"Okay..." She ran towards the bed holding the skeleton.

"But...that thing should not be here." Before I finished, the skeleton was already lying in the middle of the bed, covered in my comforter, its skull on my pillow.

She sat beside it on the bed and started her ramble, "If Tharki does not stay here, then I won't either. I can't sleep without her. This bed is so huge, Tharki would not mind a third person on it, so you can sleep comfortably too. So what if you have the build of a monster...and..."

"I know thousands of methods to shut your mouth, Simran, and you won't like either of them..."

She stopped prattling instantly, but I could see her stifling her laugh. She loved grating my nerves, and the thing was, I was letting her. I just stood there while my life and bed were getting hijacked. I could not go out either, because then it would become a reason for gossip among the staff. I invited the trouble in my life myself. In real terms, I carried my trouble bridal style and took holy vows with her.

I paced around, thinking about how to tackle the situation, when I heard her call me.

"Mr. Chauhan...." I was not ready to deal with her, but I knew she would not stop troubling me until I replied.

"What?"

"Did you take my little dick comment on your fragile male ego?" I stopped pacing as I fixated my glare on her.

"What did I tell you about shutting your mouth?" I seethed.

"Hope you didn't take it to heart. I know you don't actually have one, but still. If it helps soothe your bruised ego, then let me just say this... your dick is way too huge, thirteen, maybe fourteen inches. Not even sure how it fits in your pants, but..."

"Simran...." My voice was cold and loud, but not loud enough to leave the walls of the room.

"Sleep..." I ordered. She lay down now, her eyes still open, and she was staring at the ceiling, holding the edge of the comforter.

I was trapped in my own house, my room with a skeleton and a wife who opened her mouth to insult me tirelessly, boldly, who did not think for once before speaking. How was it that just a day ago she feared me, and now she stood so courageous, so audacious? What caused this sudden shift? Was I too easy on her? Or was the way I almost lost myself while helping her remove her jewelry or change her clothes the reason she thought she had a chance to win against me?

And yet, she never once mentioned those moments, me helping with her jewelry, or the foot patches, me helping her change her clothes when she was almost asleep, but wanted me to help her.

Did she even remember any of that?

My life was hacked apart, and still I found myself wondering why she hadn't brought up that moment we shared just two nights ago.

Great Kiaan, you're doing amazing. This woman has started to do something to your brain. Now you are not able to think clearly.

I sat on the couch, wondering if that would be a good place to sleep, but it was half my height. I could only sit on it and still would be uncomfortable. I could feel her gaze on me. She was watching me, surely enjoying my situation. If she thought I would give up and behave the way she wanted me to, then she did not know me well enough. If she was going to pull the thread of this relationship, then I was not going to sit back and watch her do that. I was going to pull it with force, and that's what I did.

I got up, and first, I turned off the lights. I could sense her gaze throughout. Leaving only the bedside lamp on her side, I walked to the bed, very much to her horror and shock, and slept on that side. I knew she was not expecting I would do that, considering she knew how much that loathsome skeleton troubled me, but the man who was alive only in the hope of seeing his firefly again could bear that much for sure.

I could hear her heartbeat getting erratic, loud, as if it was thumping against her ribcage. I saw her eyes wide open. A sheen of yellow light from the lamp cast on her face, glowing her more. I could see how anxious she was because I was close, because I still made her heart race.

"Do I scare you, Firefly?"

I saw her gulp, but she did not look at me. She exhaled, holding the edge of the comforter tighter with both of her hands.

"No...." she murmured.

"Why is your silence screaming then?"

"Why is your heartbeat running against time?"

I bet you are regretting your decision now, wife.

I could hear her breath, louder than usual, and feel her warmth even from a distance. She was under the trance of my words, while I was caught in the trance of her very existence. If she thought she was in agony, my state was no better. It was unbearable, though I bet she had no idea.

"I am fine. I am good." She said that more to herself than to me. She was trying to convince herself with her words.

"Yeah?" I whispered.

"So, you would not mind if I just moved closer......" I shifted a little closer, and then she turned to me. Her doe eyes blinked rapidly as she breathed faster. I would have thrown that skeleton any moment now. I hated how that thing lay between us. But before I could do or say anything, she slapped me. Not her exactly, she had the skeleton slap me. She was holding the hand of the skeleton, and that hideous thing just fucking slapped me.

"What is wrong with you?" I almost yelled. I could not believe what just happened.

"No, what is wrong with you? Can't you see two hardworking women trying to sleep here, but you have to talk nonstop? Other times, you won't utter a word, but now, when you should close your eyes and sleep, you are disturbing your wives..."

"Don't be scared, Tharki. I will sing a lullaby for you." She stroked the skull of that skeleton.

I pressed my temples. I never had a headache before, but one day into this marriage and my head was throbbing like anything. That was not the worst part. The worst started when I heard her sing....

So ja Tharki Thakela,

kal khilaungi tujhe kacha kela,

Fir hum jaayenge saath mein mela...

Aur banaungi tujhe Kiaan ki laila...

[Go to sleep, Tharki Thakela,

Tomorrow I'll feed you a raw banana,

Then we'll head together to the fair...

And I'll make you Kiaan's beloved Lover.]

I stared at her in shock. She was downright crazy. She was singing a weird lullaby to a skeleton whose hand, I mean whose bony hand, was still on my face. I removed it from my face, and now it was on my stomach.

"Let her hold you. She can't sleep without holding her husband." She said and made sure the skeleton's hand was on me.

Fuck! What did I get myself into?

I stayed awake, thinking about how to get rid of that skeleton, planning the death of something that was already dead. In my head, I crushed it with my car and burnt it over and over. Simran pretended to sleep with her eyes closed, but I knew she was acting. I had already understood her endgame. She was going to leave the bed, maybe even the room, because she couldn't control herself around me. She didn't trust herself when she was near me. But I was not going to let her escape.

While she acted asleep so I would drift off and she could sneak away, I reached for the veil of her saree and held it tighter. Now it was my turn to pretend I was asleep, and I did just that.

When she thought I had finally dozed off, she tried to escape. But my grip on her saree pulled her back to the bed. She struggled to free it, but her efforts were useless.

"Let me go, beast. How is the beast's grip so tight even in sleep?" she mumbled. I smiled inwardly, careful not to let it show on my face.

"I guess, Simran, you'll have to sleep here tonight." She whispered it to herself, finally giving up. 

Within minutes, she drifted off. I didn't. I was never used to sleeping. I hardly ever slept. But this time, I was peaceful. My mind wasn't drowning in chaos, not when I was watching her sleep.

I wish I could keep her.

I wish I didn't have to let her go.

Those thoughts played on a loop. No matter how chaotic we were together, I still wanted her. A memory from our childhood flashed before me, raw and vivid, as I yearned to keep her forever.

Will you leave me like the others?

I will never do that to you.

Even if monsters scare you away from me?

Nothing can scare me away from you, firefly.

Promise?

I promise.

That memory hit me like a reality check. No matter what, no matter who stood against me, I could never let her go. How could I have ever thought otherwise?

When Enzo came with the foot patches two nights ago, he told me M.P. was none other than Marco Polo. Alive. Breathing again. The initials M.P., which were carved on a crate at the child trafficking scene, meant it was the same M.P. we thought was dead. That was when I considered letting her go to keep her safe. But then it struck me. No one could protect her like I could. No one had protected her before. Everyone had failed her. But this time would be different. Because this time, it was me against everyone.

I wasn't sane enough to keep her. I wasn't what she deserved. But I would become the version she wanted, keeping the beast inside me alive, only to annihilate anyone who dared come against us.

"You made my heart beat again, and I'm too selfish not to like it. Too self-centered to let you go now," I murmured as I glanced at her peaceful form.

Like every other time, I ached to touch her, burned just to let my finger glide over her cheeks. But I didn't. I couldn't. The pain was unbearable, having her so close yet being unable to remind her of our past. But just because she didn't remember me didn't mean I would let her go. I wouldn't. She was mine to keep. Forever and ever.

"You are mine, firefly. You have always been mine, and I have been yours from the moment you stepped into my life twelve years ago. From the moment you danced into my life, I belonged to you, only you."

I pressed a kiss onto the saree in my hand. If not her, then the fabric of her saree that clung to her could do. For now, even that was enough to keep me breathing. But it wouldn't be long before I lost all control, because with her, I was already in tatters, barely holding myself together and walking on edges.

Maybe it was time I visited Dr. Phil. I needed to become the version she deserved. And he was the only one who could help.

******

Hi Lovelies,

I hope you all are doing great!! 🤗

Finally, Kiaan has decided not to let go of his firefly 😌 But Simran's plans are different 😅

Did you guys like Simran's lullaby for Tharki? 🤔  

Be ready for more chaos from her side. 😅

Who do you think is Dr. Phil? 🤔

I hope you guys are liking the mention of the scenes from their childhood. I will try to disclose more about the same. 😁

Do share your views about the chapter. It would mean a lot to me. ❤️

Thanks,

Shrishtee