Kiaan

******

I stank. Pretty bad, actually. Whatever my sweet wife had poured on me must have had some really weird stuff in it. There was definitely blood. I could not only smell that clearly, but also my shirt was soaked in red which made it obvious. However, I couldn’t recognize the foul stench of the other things mixed in. Not sure what was going on in her mind. Her stunt had to be some kind of black magic trick, for she chanted a weird mantra too. But what surprised me was how, in these modern times, she could think that kind of stupid thing works? The concept of black magic has always been silly ever since the historian's time. However, that’s the thing with faith, once you start believing in something, you don’t lose the grip on your faith rather tighten it. Anyways, I could talk about it later to her, but first I needed to pull that shirt off my body and discard it. It was time to throw it, actually. Plus, I needed a good shower too. I walked into the washroom, opened my shirt, and discarded it into the dustbin kept in the corner, and turned on the shower.

I had told Simran that I would go after her to catch her before she found the art room, but that was a lie. I will definitely go after her, but I was going to take my own sweet time while she kept hiding. She deserved this much wait at least for what she did.

******

Simran

******

I was in a Zen room, a meditation space basically. When I entered the room, I noticed ‘Zen’ engraved in bold letters on the door.

Wow! Even my husband needed a meditation space.

Or maybe his staff needed it. I mean, living with him surely would give you enough headaches to go for meditation.

The room was dimly lit. A statue of Gautam Buddha was in one of the corners, and some indoor plants were beautifully placed around. Apart from that, some zabutons were stacked neatly in one corner, which was basically a cushioned mat to sit on. The room was pretty nice, and the aura was too peaceful. But I could not stay there for long, as I had to be in the art room before my husband caught up to me.

I came out of the Zen room and moved ahead to find the art room. In the opposite direction, a few steps ahead was a door which had ‘Yoga’ engraved on it, so it was apparent it was a Yoga room. I kept walking, and then there was the ‘Xylophone’ Room. The rooms in reverse alphabetical order kept coming into my view. It was understandable that I would find the art room at the very end of the hallway. But before going towards it, I tiptoed back to the living room cautiously to check where Kiaan was. He knew what direction I ran into. Besides, knowing him well, I was aware he would have caught up to me anytime now. If he had not found me and there was no sign too, then either he was planning something big or nothing at all. I went on with my first thought that he was planning big. As I knew my husband enough to be sure he does not like to sit still and do nothing. There was certainly something cooking in his head. So, without wasting any moment, I quietly began looking for him. On my way to the kitchen, I found a staff member, and when I asked her if she had seen Kiaan, she replied that she had seen him going to our bedroom. At first, I was confused, thinking she might have been wrong about it. But when my curiosity did not calm, I went to check for myself, only to find out that she was right. The washroom door was locked, and I could hear the shower running. He had not been finding me at all, all this time, and I thought I was walking on eggshells.

He was playing with me.

Jerk!

Well, if he could do that, why couldn't I?

I smiled with excitement. Even if my black magic plan failed, I could still cook up another, something bigger in my head and then push my husband into that mess.

‘Let’s mess up your peace, Mr.Chauhan.’

I dashed out of the room and ran to the backyard. There, I found the bag Arjun had brought the ingredients of the black magic in. That bag also had a drone that Dhruv Bhaiya sent me. He knew how much I wanted to have my own social media channel where I could upload my dance videos. He had once suggested a drone would capture each and every move and would help me gain multiple followers, too. Now, firstly, I was going to use that drone to trouble my husband. Dance videos could wait for a while. While the plan began to pan out in my head, a joyful smile remained intact on my face.

******

Kiaan

******

I was still in the shower when I heard screams coming from outside. I got alarmed, but did not let panic settle in me. I turned off the shower, slipped into my clothes hurriedly without bothering to dry myself off. Once I was out of the washroom, I picked up my phone, put on an earpiece, pulled out my pistol from the bedside cabinet, and rushed out. I made my way towards where my wife would have been while the screams got louder with each passing second. Meanwhile, I dialled Enzo’s number and pocketed my phone. I knew whatever threat had knocked on the door, Enzo and team were there like a rock protecting us. The screams of fear grew louder and shriller the closer I got to the hallway my wife had run into. Though none of those screams belonged to my wife, yet was more scary because it robbed me of the assurance of her safety. I was not closer to the hallway, but just then noticed the staff running here and there, hiding. Then all of a sudden, I saw Shayla approaching a nearby room. A few of the staff were shaking, and some were in tears. Panic and fear spread across everyone’s faces.

“Shayla….” I yelled out Shayla’s name, turning off the safety of my pistol. Her grip tightened on the doorknob of the room she was about to step in, but she stopped in her tracks. She looked at me, her face clearly pale. She looked as if she had seen a ghost, and that had her shit scared like that.

“What’s going on? Why is everyone scared?” Enzo had not picked up my phone yet, and it was not a good sign.

“Gho..ghost…”

“Ghost?” I was confused.

“There is a ghost…ghost flying… out of the mansion.”

“A flying ghost?” I asked, incredulously. She nodded her head vigorously and tears began streaming down her face.

What the fuck was going on now?

“Save us…Sir…ple..please…”

“Take everyone with you, head to the basement, and stay quiet until my next orders…” I ordered. She nodded and began gathering other staff to take them with her. Meanwhile, I called Enzo again, running towards the art room now. This time, Enzo picked up the call.

“Enzo, what’s the situation out there?”

The door to the art room was open. I stepped in with bated breath and heart pumping like crazy, trying to locate my wife.

“Sir, an unidentified flying object has come into our view. We have our aims targeted at it and will shoot at it now. I have instructed a few security officials to look around for any intruders. So far, no one has entered the house. That’s clear.”

I had hoped Simran was still in there, smartly hiding, just like she used to do when she was a kid. I knew I could trust her with hiding. I wanted to believe that it did not matter if she did not have her memories; she still had her survival instincts on point. As I noticed my wife standing in front of a window, I finally took a breath of relief. I was about to run to her, to take her to safety, when suddenly I noticed something that had me stop where I was.

“You said there is a flying object?” I asked Enzo while noticing my wife with a remote controller. I was there, but she had not heard me at all. Her survival instincts had gone to negative, but she definitely excelled in how to give others a heart attack

“Yes. There is only one, but we are trying to locate others.”

The flying object, which was basically a drone, came into my view as it flew closer to the open window of the art room. There was something on that drone, but from that angle, I could only make out that it was a drone. However, not everyone could have noticed if it was flying too high.

Then I heard the voice of one of the security members over the call asking for Enzo’s permit.

“Sir, the target is set. Give us a go-ahead.”

Before Enzo could reply to him, I ordered Enzo, “Tell him not to shoot.”
“What?” Enzo’s confusion made sense. He did not know it was my wife creating a ruckus and not an enemy.

“What’s out there is not dangerous,” I said as I clicked the safety on and slid the pistol into the back of my jeans.

“But Sir…”

“It’s my wife, Enzo. Call the mission off. And also, tell Shayla and the other staff hiding in the basement that there is no ghost and everything is under control.”

“Okay.”

I had hung up the call, but not for once did she notice she was not alone.

How recklessly ignorant one could be that they failed to notice someone who was even talking over the call?

I stood there cross-armed, half angry, half annoyed, and completely flabbergasted over her negative survival instincts and her stupidity. She was giggling like a child, using the remote controller, and had no idea she was not alone and that I was there too. Not only was I standing there, but I also ended a conversation with Enzo without her noticing me. She was too wrapped up in her bubble that she could have gotten hurt and would not have found a way out. That definitely made space for panic in me. I had to teach her to survive now, too.

I walked ahead, and she kept playing with that drone. Once quite close, I saw the drone more clearly. The way a piece of white cloth was wrapped and some bones tied on it, it was obvious why anyone would have considered it a flying ghost.

“Having fun?”

“Yes, it’s exciting.” She replied. She was so immersed in that drone that she did not even turn to see who it was, and even my voice did not break her fun trance. I bent my face so that I could reach her level. I was really close now, staring at her face, her eyes twinkled with mischief, and a playful, heartfelt smile on her lips. I wish I could just pull her into my arms and stay like that forever.

Did she have any idea how adorable she looked making my life hell?

I still could not believe the only woman I had eyes for was my wife now. It was almost impossible. I never thought that one day she would be standing this close to me, smiling wholeheartedly and not scared like she used to be.

“Mrs.Chauhan.”

I whispered, smiling.

Her fingers stopped on the controller, she turned her face to her left, and her eyes met mine. Her eyes widened in shock, and it happened like it happens in cartoons in slow motion. And then she screamed at the top of her lungs, “Ahhhh…”

In order to go away, she tried taking steps back and stumbled on her feet. I grabbed her arm before she fell, pulled her up, and had her stable.

“You scared me,” she breathed.

I shook my head at her antiques, grabbed the controller she was holding, and yanked it out of her hand.

“Give it back.” She tried taking it away, but I raised it up. But she did not stop there either. She started jumping like a kid to catch it.

“Kiaan.” She whined like a child, making a sad, angry face.

“Give it back to me. It’s mine.” She grabbed my tee and tried to reach my arm, but she was nowhere close.

“I want it back.”

I turned to the window and had the drone fly back inside the room. Once it was back, I shut the window and removed the cloth and bones tied on the drone, and put them aside on a table.

“That’s my gift. Don’t you manhandle it.”

“Gift?” I was more furious now. Someone gifted her a drone while she could have asked me for that. She did not ask her own husband if she needed a drone. So what if the sole purpose of the drone was to annoy me? I would gladly gift her a dagger too, even if she wanted to kill me with it.

“Dhruv Bhaiya gave it to me.”

I rolled my eyes. It had to be Dhruv Kapoor only, everybody’s knight and saviour.

“Of course he would. When it comes to spoiling, who beats Dhruv? No one.”

He was the only one who knew how to spoil the ladies of the group, and he did not even have to put effort to do that. It’s like he was born with that talent. Now I understand how Namit and Arjun felt whenever Dhruv would help Dhriti and Nitya in their silliness. Saavi, though, was quite sensible, and no matter the spoiling, she never resorted to stupid tricks like Dhriti, Nitya, and now my darling wife Simran.

“What’s your problem, huh?” She had the audacity to raise her voice after she just showed me how careless she was with her safety and survival instincts. Ironic!

“My problem? What’s your problem? Do you have any idea how ignorant, careless you are? Do you even care about yourself? And what about scaring the staff? Who would have gone through the hassle of hiring new staff if everyone today had bolted out in fear? Scaring others is fun to you?”

“You scare others for fun, too, don’t you?” She mumbled, looking at her feet, thinking I would not hear her. As if I was deaf.

“What did you say?” I asked, not because I did not hear her, but I challenged her to dare to repeat herself, which obviously she did not, as she replied with, “Ummm…nothing.”

“I am keeping this with me until you make me believe you are not going to pull any such stunt.” Things would have gone out of hand if my team had shot the drone. She could have been hurt. I was fine with any pranks of hers as long as they did not compromise her safety.

She stomped her feet like a kid.

“Acting like a kid is not going to help your case.”

Smiling inwardly but pretending I was a little angry, I headed towards the door.

“Where are you going? You promised to tell me the story if I got to the art room first.”

“That was before you tried scaring the staff.”

“You can’t go back on your words.” She yelled. I sighed and stopped in my tracks. I turned to her as I questioned, “Why not?”

“Because...because…”

“...Because you are a man.”

I raised my brows, hoping for her to explain, and she continued, “A man never goes back on his words. In the past, men used to go to war just to keep their word.”

“Well, sweetheart, those men did not have to deal with a wife like you.”

Her mouth was wide open in shock, and now she was fuming. I wish I could just click her picture like that.

“What do you mean by a wife like me? Am I not good? Huh…I am perfect, Kiaan. Too perfect for someone like you. Stop putting the blame of your bullshit on me. Even if you had tried looking for someone holding a torch, you still would not have found an amazing woman like me. Do you get that?”

She was heaving for breath by the end of her yelling session at me. She was right though. She was perfect, too perfect for someone like me. But I did not break my character and, holding a poker face I said,“Okay, Mrs. Perfect. Let’s go now.”

“No,” She declared and sat on the floor cross-legged, and then she crossed her arms.

Literal baby.

She gave me an angry look and started mumbling, which was very much audible to me.

“You hurt me and then beg for my forgiveness.”

“You are so mean. How do you look at your face in the mirror after being mean to others?”

I sat down too. Because that venting session was going to be a long one.

“I am sure that mirror is your puppet who boosts your ego while fake-complimenting you.”

I pursed my lips because I would have laughed.

How does she come up with all of that?

What goes on in her brain actually for her to say all of that or to come up with tricks to annoy me?

“I want to hit your head with a brick. But I know the brick will break and nothing will happen to you.”

I laughed. This time I actually did. She glared at me, her chilling gaze did nothing to me but I pretended to cough instead, covering my laugh.

“Continue, sweetheart…”

“You ruined my black magic trick. Now, I will go to a priest. No, wait! An exorcist will be the right choice for you because you have a demon in you. But no, you don’t have a demon in you, you are a demon…a big one with three horns.”

The room suddenly felt quiet when she stopped. I did not want her to stop.

Did she have any idea how adorable she looked while venting?

But what caught my attention in all of her venting was the three horns statement. I mean, two was fine, how did she come up with the idea of three horns? She was sometimes too unpredictable.

“Three horns?” I asked curiously.

“Yeah, two on your head and one between your legs.” Now it was my time to be rendered speechless.

Did she just call my dick a horn?

‘Yeah, she did,’ my inner self replied.

“Can’t tell you about the horns on my head, but the third one, that will hurt.”

Her face turned red, and after what I claimed, she realized what she had spoken earlier. But she very meticulously diverted the topic.

“You want to hurt me?”

She surely picked other things too, I meant important stuff, but she pretended to be naive and asked me about the least significant thing.

Cute!

I did not pester either because that was the discussion for another day. We would definitely talk about the third horn, or have a practical instead, better that way, but I was not going to talk about it this time.

“Maybe,” I replied.

“Why haven’t you hurt me yet?”

Her nose had become red, and it appeared like a red button now. She was avoiding my gaze; her cheeks flamed until they turned crimson. I would hurt her, the kind of hurt she would crave every day, long for every night, and would wait for with each passing moment. But she was not prepared for anything. Besides, I had not been very honest about my past with her. She needed to see first what kind of hurt she should expect from me, and I would show her that very soon. Until then, patience was a great virtue.

“I am a man of patience.”

She gave me a curt nod and then locked her eyes with mine. She appeared to be in some thought for a moment and then fired a wild card question.

“So your patience won’t vanish even if you see me with another man?”

That came out of the blue; even I was startled. She was full of surprises. Even when I knew her way too much, she still always had to offer me a part of herself I never knew existed. But I needed to clarify some things to her. For that, I wrapped my palm over the nape of her neck, tightened the hold softly, and brought her face closer to mine.

Her breath hitched, and I could hear her haywired heartbeats.

“You are mine, firefly.” I declared.

I brushed my nose over hers as I vowed, “And if you ever forget that…I will make sure you remember it…”

Then, with the index finger of my right hand, I tapped her heart with each word of my next confession, “ONE. HEARTBEAT. AT. A. TIME.”

“I am yours?” She whispered, as if it was hard to believe. I smiled gently as I kissed her nose.

“You have always been mine.”

Her luscious lips parted a little, tempting me, as if inviting me, or rather challenging me. But I could not fumble with patience now when I was quite close to showing her a part of me I had been hiding even from my shadow. If I caved now, then she would get scared. I did not want to scare her. So no matter how much it hurts not to kiss her, not to worship her, touch her the way I craved for I would sit with my patience instead.

“What about you? Are you mine?”

Wasn’t I always?

Ever since she laid her eyes on me in childhood and sent that letter, we have bonded. I had been hers since then. I ruined myself for her. I killed for her. I started a war for her and ended up destroyed at the end because of her. But she did not remember any of it. She knew none of it now.

Her eyes filled with hope expected an answer that would calm her heart, assure her that only she belonged in my world. So now, I will articulate, shout, scream, and repeat how much I belonged to her.

“I breathe for you. The moment you stop breathing, I do too.” Tears began to cloud her vision, and she evaded her gaze. Even though sitting that close, she thought she could hide her vulnerability from me. But I was the only medicine she needed. She could not hide her wounds and scars from me when I was the only one who could heal her.

“I want to hear that story.” She was trying to avoid what could lay her heart bare. I did not push further.

“Fine.”

I left her and pushed myself off the floor. Standing, I extended my hand for her to hold. Without looking at me, she held my hand and got up.

“Now, don’t get too excited, for I am letting your mischief go this time because you are a first-time defaulter. You pull something like this again, I am not going to tell you anything. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What? Sir? Do you have a problem with that word?” She asked too innocently.

Fuck! How would I be able to deal with the fiery combination of bold and naive?

She might be a smart woman, but there were certain areas where she was still naive.

“Come on, let’s go. Let’s have dinner first, and then I will tell you the story you are so eager for.”

She agreed, but I should have told her the story first instead of taking her for dinner. Because the entire time we were eating, she was literally sitting on my head, telling me techniques to eat faster so that the story starts soon.

******

Simran

******

We were back in the art room. Earlier, I had not explored it as I was too busy with the drone. But now that I was here again, I looked around, scanned the room, and went to each and every corner just to admire the paintings. The walls were decorated with the paintings of Saavi. And why not? She was so talented that everyone always wanted to grab a piece of her work. There were some unfinished paintings on the canvases, and those were the works of my husband. Of course, it was not a professional work, but still something you would definitely like to see and admire. I was so clueless about his talents all this time. I wondered what more he was hiding from me. There was a wooden cabinet filled with paint brushes, watercolors, and some canvases stacked with the support of the wall in a corner. There was a small marble top cute round table too, alongside which a few cushioned chairs were arranged.

There was also a gold, royal-looking rectangular box kept on the marble table. While I was staring at one of his unfinished works, I noticed him sitting on one chair, opening that gold box, and pulling out a cigar from it.

That shocked me.

“You smoke?” I asked, unable to hide my disbelief. First of all, smoking was injurious to health, and most importantly, a cigar is worse than a cigarette. I was not a fan of anyone who smokes or even drinks. However, I sometimes do make an exception for people who drink, but not those who consume it quite frequently.

“Only when there is a lot on my head.”

“And how often is that?”

He did not respond.

I had no idea where my newfound courage came from, but I was glad it did. Because what I did next even surprised me. I walked up to him, held the other edge of the cigar he had put in his mouth, and pulled it out. Then I walked to a nearby window, opened it, threw it out, and walked back to him.

“Can you not smoke?”

“I need some dopamine, something that keeps me calm enough….”

He took a brief pause, looking somewhere in the oblivion as he added,“....sane enough…”

And smoking cigars releases dopamine in him that keeps him sane? No, I would not let him rely on that evil thing.

“You don’t need a cigar to be sane.”

“No?”

“No,” I said sternly.

“You are right,” he agreed so instantly, which kind of took me aback. But then he declared, “I need you…”

He tapped his lap and said, “Sit here.”

Heat crept up my cheeks, and I was left tongue-tied. He had to be crazy to think I would do something like that.

‘But it’s better than letting him smoke a cigar,’ my inner self reasoned. Still, I replied, “No.”

The close proximity between us does things to me, things I have no control over. It brings feelings that consume me, overwhelm me, feelings I have never felt before. I don’t know how to handle any of it, and that scares me.

“You want the truth or not…”

“You are blackmailing me.”

“No, I am setting up some rules. This is one of them. I need to be grounded while talking about something I haven’t done ever. Cigars keep me grounded. Now that it's out of the equation, I have only you to rely on.”

The offer was tempting.

He said it was something ‘he hadn't done ever’. It meant he had not shared the truth he was about to tell with anyone.

But wait, did he just compare me to a cigar? That both cigars and I could keep him grounded?

Before I could argue with him, he stopped me by saying, “Stop running your brain. I need you, not some cheap nicotine, and no, I am not comparing you two.”

Gently, he grabbed my waist and pulled me closer. I stumbled and held his shoulders for support. Both my hands were now on each of his shoulders. My long black hair, resembling silky curtains, traced his face. A soft and lazy smile appeared on his face. Our faces were inches apart, and I could feel his breath on my face.

“I won’t even touch you after you sit on my lap. I promise. I just…need you closer.”

“Why?” I breathed.

“Why do you need me closer?”

He tucked some of my hair behind my left ear tenderly, making me recall the words from his diary.

‘She wrecked me with her smile.’

“You quiet my chaos.”

“But you chase chaos.”

He always loved chaos and thrill, almost as if they were the only motives of his existence.

“I have only ever chased you.”

There were some powers of mine which were not mine to give. So, no matter our past, he still could make my heart skip a beat. He still could make me fall for him unconditionally, and that scared me. Because I knew this time, there was no way out for me. This time, I would be ruined, and I wanted to opt for the option that led me to either salvation or ruination. There was no gray zone this time.

With a thumping heart, I finally sat on his lap. He pulled his hand off my waist just like he had promised, and I hated it. To keep myself stable, I did not remove my hands from his shoulders. And he did not lay even a finger on me. I was disappointed, even though I should not have. It’s not like I had forgiven him for his past deeds, yet I was acting like I had.

I evaded his gaze and, instead of thinking about our changing dynamics, I decided to focus on what we both were there for. It was the time for the story as his conditions were met now.

“Let’s start with the story.”

He nodded.

“How do you feel when you dance?” I was caught off guard by his question. Still, thinking it might have something to do with his story, I answered honestly.

“Like I own this world. The world appears to be my canvas and I paint it with my steps.”

“That’s how they felt, too.”

“Who?”

“Not revealing the names yet. Let’s say Subject A and Subject B. So, this story starts with two young girls.”

Wait! What young girls? I want to know about him and no one else.

“I thought this was your story.”

“Shhh…only one question today. Are you gonna waste it just like that?”

“But I want to know about you.” I was not sitting on his lap just to listen about some random people. I wanted to know the truth about my husband.

“This is about me, about us. But to know more about me, you need to be aware of the roots of everything. Now, can I expect your patience, or should I shut your mouth with duct tape?”

Hurriedly, I put a finger on my lips, and his lips curled upwards.

Mean!

“So, these subjects were two young girls, beautiful, charming, and graceful. Subject A was cheerful, made friends easily, while Subject B was reserved, quiet, and had no friends. Both of them met when they joined the same ballet academy. Subject A approached Subject B because of her cheerful nature. Subject B was hesitant at first, but she could not resist Subject A’s charms. Both of them came from a rich family, but they both lacked attention and love from their families.”

This Subject A and Subject B was ravaging my brain. I never faced any difficulty solving math equations, but remembering Subject A and Subject B as names was too tricky.

“Subject A was an orphan, had an older brother who was always busy because of his work. Though he loved her, but could not give her enough time. Meanwhile, Subject B was not an orphan, but her parents were narcissists who only cared about themselves and used to hurt her. Subject A was the only positive light in subject B’s life.”

Everything became more confusing the more he took those weird names. Subject A, Subject B seemed like the same person only because of the names used.

“Stop…stop…stop…” I said, when I could not take it anymore.

“What?”

“This is not a courtroom or a crime scene. Can you at least give some fake names to the girls instead of Subject A and Subject B? Please….” I pleaded agitatedly. It was fine if he was not revealing the real names, but even fake ones would do too.

“Okay. You suggest…”

I had the leverage, and I could not feel much happier about it. I started to think, and then my eyes fell on the magazine lying on the table. There was a picture of two swans on the cover, and two names were printed as well. Instead of thinking much, I told the same names.

“Leena and Sara.”

He nodded, agreeing to use the names.

“Okay. So, let's consider Subject A as Leena and Subject B as Sara. Is that fine now?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Leen and Sara grew up together now. Both would wait for their dance class so that they could hang out. Soon, Sara shifted to Leena’s school, much to her surprise. However, like the charming girl she was, Leena had many friends in school. Sara knew Leena had other friends, but she had not expected that the count would be that much. Sara started to feel unseen now. She could only get Leena’s attention during their dance session. Sara started to get jealous; her jealousy kept growing over time. Leena, though, had no idea what was going on in Sara’s head. According to her, everything was fine.”

Did Sara have feelings for Leena?

But they were just young girls. How could one have feelings for the other?

And what could be the possible reason for Sara’s jealousy?

I had many questions running in my head, and I even opened my mouth to speak, but when Kiaan asked, “You want to ask something?” I got reminded of the one-question rule. I could only ask one question the first day, so I instantly replied after the realization, “Nope. Go ahead.”

I was not going to waste my one question of the day just like that. I would rather use that opportunity to know more about the man who was my husband, who had changed completely after marrying me, as if we were long-lost souls who met after years of separation.

“Smart!” He applauded my choice and his eyes sparkled with pride for me. My father never took this much pride in me because of my dance, but this man did only because of a small choice. His hair was messy ever since he had come to the room when I was flying the drone. Then it was wet, but now, when dried, it looked messier, and I ached to entangle my hands in them. But I chose not to take any step that would make me crave for him more. I was scared it would not go well, so I simply focused on the story. To keep those thoughts of playing with my husband’s hair out of my head, I simply asked him about the story.

“What happened next?”

“Sara’s jealousy had turned her into an obsessive girl who began conspiring against her own best friend. Instead of taking others out of Leena’s life, she created a scandal in school and had everyone outcast Leena. Leena was left heartbroken, and Sara turned out to be the shoulder to cry on. She very smartly made Leena a villain in others’ eyes and herself a hero in Leena’s eyes.”

That was a sick move. Who was this snake?

“All that just for her best friend’s attention?”

“Firefly, when you feed someone who has been starving for weeks, they will do anything to make sure you keep feeding them. Sara starved for her parents' love, concern, and their attention, but got only humiliation in return. So when Leena became the light in her darkness, she couldn’t resist grabbing it and caging it.”

I sighed sadly for Leena. So far, I have been feeling really bad for her.

“Now, Leena had only one person she relied on, which was Sara, and vice versa. They were best friends who would do anything for each other. While Leena made sure Sara never got hurt, Sara made sure no one could even approach Leena, not even a guy. There were men interested in both beautiful women. But for some reason, Sara was always insecure if Leena dated someone.”

“Wow. So she was fine dating someone, but not with Leena doing the same? That’s another level of hypocrisy.”

“Hypocrisy? Nah… that’s obsession in its raw form.”

That was scary though. That level of obsession was poisonous for anyone.

“When they both graduated high school and joined a university, they both started dating two friends. It was fine for Sara as they usually planned double dates. However, Leena started to spend more time with her boyfriend away from Sara. While Sara’s boyfriend really adored her, he tried making her happy, but nothing made her happier than getting Leena’s attention. Plus, she never liked seeing Leena happy if it was not because of her. It made her feel jealous. And why would she not? Leena might have been an orphan, and her brother could not spend much time with her, yet her brother’s love for her was unmatchable. He had other ways to show his love for his sister. That would always make Sara jealous. And what she did next…that was the first consequence of her obsession with Leena…”

He abruptly stopped. I wanted to know more. I was too much in the story now to know what Sara did to Leena.

“Why did you stop? Continue…” I just hoped it was not something really bad and that Leena gave it back to Sara for her betrayal, or whatever she did to her.

“We are done for the day. It’s time for your question.”

I stared at my husband, gaped in shock. That man was really high on something. How could he stop at a cliffhanger and expect me to be fine?

“You can’t stop at a cliffhanger,” I complained. I always hated cliffhangers, and that was why I watched shows whose all seasons were out. I was not a fan of ongoing shows, only completed ones.

“My story, my rules. Now, shoot your question.”

I still could not believe the way he betrayed me with a suspenseful ending. Earlier, I was thinking of running my hands in his hair; now I just wanted to pull it off his head.

“You know I really want to grab your hair and pull it all out of your head. I want to make you bald for what you did to me.” My every nerve burned with fury, and I was disappointed in him.

How could someone be this cruel? 

No one loves a dramatic pause in a story, and he was using that only. He left my hand when I was at the edge of the cliff. How vicious!

“Firefly, either you ask your question or lose your chance to ask any at all.”

I got off his lap angrily and walked away from him, about to bolt out of the room, but then I realized I would lose my chance of that one question, too. That had me stop in my tracks. My anger was valid, but how could I fight with someone who was the narrator of the story I wanted to know more of? As much as rage simmered beneath my skin, I could not let go of that one chance. So, I did not leave instantly. Standing a foot apart and turning to face my husband, I eventually asked my first question.

“What turned you into a beast?”

It was obvious through his expression how taken aback he was by my question. He surely would have assumed I would ask him about Sara or Leena. But since I was unpredictable, my questions would be too: unpredictable and uncomfortable for him. It did not seem like he would answer as he avoided my gaze and looked somewhere else. And when he looked back at me, he had his poker face on.

“You did.”

There was a scary pause he took before he added, “You ruined me….and now I will do the same to you…”

Not sure what made him say that confidently, and I guessed that I would have to wait for the story to unfold, but I was not going to let him believe he could ruin me that easily.

“Good luck with that, Mr.Chauhan. We’ll see who ruins whom.”

I huffed and stormed out of the room. I took Tharki back to our bedroom and placed her in the middle while I took the corner end. When my husband came into the room and took his spot on the other side of the bed beside Tharki, he complained annoyedly, “How long are you going to torture me with this stupid skeleton?”

I didn’t reply. He could trouble me all he wanted, as I had my ways too to do the same to him. I let him sulk and fell asleep with the excitement of joining the dance academy again, not knowing what more awaited me there.

******

Hi Lovelies,

I hope you all are doing well. 🤗

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

Thanks,

Shrishtee