"We didn't call your number, now did we?" I roll my eyes.

"No." The 'n' sound gets lost somewhere in my throat and my sister and best friend only gets to hear the 'o'.

"Then why are you answering our best friend's phone without her permission?" This time Suhana chimes in. I mumble a quick prayer to waheguruji to help me get out of this phone call without any drama.

These two are the definition of drama.

Kaleshi auratein!

"She's sleeping, I'll tell her to call you. Bye."

"Ayeeee!"

"Abey ohhhh!" Both of them scream together, I have to keep the phone away from my ear—one hand distance—as their voice buzzes through my head.

"What!?" I grumble making sure to not wake my wife because of these idiot people. I did decide to not have sex with her last night as we have been at it consistently since we came here eleven days ago.

"Advuuuu..." Suhana sings, I roll my eyes. I'm so done with her loving tone, these women have burned holes—my entire fucking pants, let alone pockets. Itna apni biwi ko deta—hatao, ye biwi ne hi sarr chadhaya hai inn dono ko.
{Had I spoiled my wife—leave it, it's the wife who has coddled these two so fucking much.}

"Hmm," I hum, moving fingers in my wife's hairs. "How's the sex going?" I roll eyes and at the same time my little sister roars like a cub, "Suhana!"

"I'm out of here." I hear her voice drifting away from the phone, Suhana chuckles.

"How are you?" My partner in crime asks making the smile on my face widen. This girl will never show just how much warmth, love and kindness she carries around behind all that sassy and grumpy image. I'm always in awe of her strength. The grace that she has shown on every single hardship that came her way.

"Good," I respond, my wife snuggles more into me bringing my attention to her—which never really shifted away. "You okay?" I ask her.

"Obviously, what did you think? That I'd be listening to 'tera yaar hoon main', huh?" I shake head at her tone.

She continues after a beat, "Sahil is considering that,"

"Did he get another one?" I ask, immediately alert.

"Hm, day before yesterday. It was so hard for Yug and Hood to handle." I huff out a tired sigh, my heart aching for my best friend.

"Are they okay now?"

"Kind of," Suhana mumbles lowly. My wife stirs beside me, sighing in her sleep. "Did I wake her up?" My best friend enquires, I pat my wife back to sleep.

I mutter to Suhana, caressing Bugu's hairs, "Uhuh."

"She's such a light sleeper, if she hasn't woken up till now... man you're tiring her out." Suhana laughs, making my face heat up.

"We are going wine tasting today." I try to divert the conversation, "she wants to try now that she's finally married and doesn't have to hear the speeches on what are a girl's do's and don't's." I add, just thinking of how her grandfather taunted her over even breathing a little heavily pisses me the fuck off.

"Good good. Bring me gifts." Suhana says, I sense the happiness in her voice. If only Sahil hadn't decided to wife my little sister when she was hours old, I could've called Suhana my other sister. Kamina saala! I didn't even get a chance to warn him to stay away from Ahaana. My gaze fleet to the ceiling, 'what yaar Dadu's?'

So disappointed in you people!

"I miss yaa, peanut." I chuckle with her at the nickname she gave me when we were kids. We were eating peanuts one day, a thin, tiny and weird looking peanut came to Suhana and she raised it in the air, yelling, 'I finally found Advik's brain'.

"I miss yaa too, Hurricane." The slightest smile pulling over my wife's lips makes me aware that she's up and just lazying in my arms. I kiss her ears. "Okayyy! I hear kissing and stuff, I'll leave you guys alone now. Tell Falku, I miss her and I'm so fucking done with Sahil and Ahaana fighting every two minutes. I swear I'm moments away from killing those two so come back soon you both or I'll have blood on my hands." Suhana says all in one breath. With a long inhale and exhale, she adds, "preferably with a little Falku in Falku's oven, byeeeee!" She disconnects quickly. Both Falak and I are left smiling as her chirpy voice fades away in our ears.

"Kitna sote ho aap," I complain, caressing her cheeks with the back of my fingers. "Kitna thaka dete ho aap." She states back in the same tone, her forehead squinted. I chuckle rubbing our noses together and placing a small kiss on her lips.

"Meri mithiye.." I mutter swiping tongue on her lips, she giggles almost blushing. {my sweetness}

I start trailing my fingers down her cheeks to jaw to neck, moving to shoulder and arms, "Kaisi gulab si hai tu..."

{Such a rose you are.}

"I miss home." She whispers sadly. I kiss the tip of her nose, "but you said I'm your home." I even pout for better effects.

"You are. My home. My Heart. My whole world. But the beautiful people, the kindest people you've brought in my life like blessings are too. They are the corners of the home where I feel safe. They are the veins pumping blood in the heart. They are the beautiful places in my world. In our world. They are pieces that makes us both whole and no matter how much I enjoy and love being here, I miss them."

"I miss my parents. I miss my parents in laws. I miss my friends and I am so ready to live life as your wife, as their daughter in law after all this fairytale time I have spent with you. I want to be your wife outside this place, in the world which is ours." After she finishes speaking, I'm just left gazing at her. This woman has so much love inside her, I don't think I ever come across a more kind, empathetic and loving soul than hers. Each day I'm left in awe, in tears of happiness and gratitude that I get to have her. I get to call her my wife. I get to love her and be loved by her.

Her beautiful eyes might have been the reason that made me want to look at her again, all those years ago. But her heart, the love that she had caged inside ready to pour over anyone who genuinely smiled or gently held her hand, she chose to shower that love over me. She made me the luckiest person on the earth who got to be loved by her. The fact that she chose me over all those other proposals she got from when she joined the school till the time we started dated —seven boys, and I got into fights with them each one of them and won—she chose me over everyone. She fought for me even when I was fighting with her. She loved my sister when I hated her. She hugged me when I pushed her away.

This woman. She became my woman and I plan to spend the rest of my life, kissing her feet for loving me and never, never giving up on me.

I snapped out of my thoughts as I felt her moving towards the edge of the bed and picking up my t-shirt that was not-so-politely stripped off me last night by my wifey. She then stretches her body and damnnnnnn, that arch of her back. I love her curves and rolls and everything that is Falak. I end up whistling as she walks— gracefully glides her waist swinging left to right. She throws me a look over her shoulder before kicking the door to the bathroom shut.

"Stay put, Advik! You have drained both her and yourself, let her gather the strength back or one look at her and your own family will beat you to a pulp." I mumble to myself. Holding back on the urge to storm in the washroom and have my way with her. These two days should be her recovery days.

With the thought in my head, I make bookings for our wine tasting and then spa later in the evening. We will be boarding the flight to Mumbai tomorrow early morning. These days spent with her have been absolute joy but I'm also ready to finally start living with her. Hold her anytime I want. Kiss her anytime I want. Fuck her anytime I want. Call her my wife in front of the world. And be hers. Her husband. The man who cherishes her with every breath, the man who gets to hold her, the man who gets to worship her.

Hm, my new introduction should be 'Falak's husband'.

~Mrs. Falak Advik Mehrotra.~

I'd like to forget the fact that she decided to keep her surname just for this one moment, thankyou!

She can be Khanna for the world but for me, she'll always be Mrs. Falak Advik Mehrotra. Meri ibaadat!

She steps out of the washroom showered and her hairs wet. "Get ready, I'll do some of the packing till then." She flicks to the washroom, heading to the luggage.

"I'll do that. Tu ready ho ja." I let my feet to the floor and get up, stretching my hands in the air to crack my back before walking to her. I stand behind her, sniffing her lavender shampoo.
{You get ready.}

"Aap..." She trails off looking at the teasing smile pulling up on my lips. I don't know exactly what has changed but my wife has started calling me 'aap' every now and then. It's a little weird for me, to be very honest. Her lower lip curls up in a pout as she presses her back against my chest, "but everyone calls their husband respectfully."

"I don't want such respect from you. I was always 'tu-tum' for you and I plan to spend the rest of my life the same way. I want no weird things in our smooth as fuck relationship, okay?" I make her understand tapping the index finger on the tip of her nose, she tsks but says nothing.

Dropping a kiss on her crown, I saunter to the washroom. This change might have come from hearing our mothers and Ahaana-Suhana addressing their partners as 'aap'. But Ahaana-Suhana are younger than us and they called everyone 'aap' being the youngest, that eventually became a habit. But Falak and I were classmates, we are born in the same year and she has been using 'tum or tu' for me since our classroom days. It makes no fucking sense to change that just because we are married now.

Waise bhi apne biwi se tu-tadak kiye bina mujhe chain nahi milega! Bhaad mein jaaye aisi forced respect.
{Anyway, I won't get any peace without my wife throwing some snappy words at me! To hell with such forced respect.}

•

We reached the wine tasting spot and the attendant showed us the vineyards outside the winery. The attendant blabbered about different varieties of grapes as they passed lines and lines of grapevines with bunches of grapes hanging on them. The air carried a subtle citrus fragrance which was very refreshing. I popped some grapes given to us as samples in my mouth, looking at my woman keenly hearing what the attendant yapped on about. I have zoned him out a long back. The Punjabi in me wanted to get on with the wines already. Who cared about what variety of grape went in which wine or what barrels were they stored in? They could be fermented in plastic fridge bottles for all I cared!

For someone who hadn't had a drop of alcohol in her life ever, my wife was surely too interested in knowing everything about wines now. My curious lil' Birdie. She has gotten so engrossed in it that she hasn't even realised that she has left her sweet husband good fifty meters behind who is grumpily chomping on grapes while glaring at the French attendant boy who was time and again passing googly eyes at my wife.

Falak did look exquisite in her white frilly sundress and that bow in her hair. Almost mystical. Like a fairy. And that damned bow in her hair, as if I am not obsessed enough with her hair, that bow might be my new kryptonite. I might have already placed an order for hundreds of bows in different colours and designs to be delivered at home. Wifey might go all angry bird on me for this but a man gotta do what he gotta do.

I am snapped out of my Falak-la-la-land as the woman of my dreams suddenly kisses my nose, snapping me out of my daydream.

And look at me living the dream as I focus my gaze on the angel, god blessed me with.

"Dreaming about me, husband? Even when I have become your reality, huh?" She quipped with that cute smirk on her plush lips.

I step closer, bridging the distance between us and swiping aside the loose strand, "a little too confident about that, don't you think Bugu?" I retorted with tongue in my cheek clearly enjoying how bold she has become about herself in our honeymoon duration. It wasn't like she wasn't confident before but she always had her share of insecurities about how she looked. The days we didn't step out of our hotel room probably doused those insecurities and I have every plan to continue doing that in future.

Cue wolfish grin.

My woman should feel nothing less than a queen in her own fucking skin, no matter what.

"I am. You got this look on your face that Sahil refers to as 'so whipped for Parcel' look. You smile and then it turns a little smirk-y and that dreamy glint in your eyes. So baby, I know it's me, your dearest wifey, featuring in your daydreams" She flips her hair in my face that makes me want to dig my face in her hair for eternity meanwhile keeping her away from brat of my sister because I can see that Chinu's drama is damn contagious. Even more than fucking Coronavirus.

Before I can utter anything or shut her sassy self up in my ways, she starts dragging me inside of the winery yelling how she is excited for her first ever alcohol tasting.

"Finally, tere andar ka Punjabi jaag gya. I surely started doubting that 'Khanna' surname" I chuckle, when she rolls her eyes at me. She was the only odd one out in our group of six who didn't drink and always stuck to her fruity mocktails. She always said that she was waiting for the right moment, when we finalised Paris for honeymoon and she got to know about these wine tasting thingy, she booked it right away while yelling in my ears 'found my right moment'.

As we reached inside, there was a gigantic table filled with different sorts of cheese, french breads, wine glasses and off course wines arranged beautifully. A sommelier stood at the head of the table who welcomed us with French greetings. Then he told us about different types of wines present there and how they derived their names either from the variety of grape they are made from or the region in which they are made. There is even a thing called 'wine pairing' which means finding the perfect wine that not only goes with the food but also elevates the overall dining experience. Phew! Who knew so much science went behind fluffing alcohol. If this wasn't enough there is also a specific way of drinking wine. The five 'S' of tasting wine: See, Swirl, Sniff, Sip and Savour. Obviously I jumped to the last S i.e. Savour while Falak did all the 5 steps shebang to the T.

The sommelier left us alone after a while telling us to enjoy ourselves. And enjoy, I did! I could see Falak starting to get tipsy after her second glass of white wine with all the red wines still left to be tasted by her. Her uptight posture has gone quite relaxed and her cheeks have got the most adorable flush going on. A little fact: Red wine gets you more drunk than white wine. So, my little Bugu is surely in for a ride since she made me promise that I won't stop her from having wine unless it becomes absolutely necessary.

Guess what, I am in for a ride as well with how crazy drunk Falak goes.

I let her be. Staying close and keeping an eye but never saying anything. I let her do whatever the fuck she wants. My wife enjoys. She enjoys herself. Giggling, savouring the taste and then in the end just gulping down whatever came to her hand. When our tables' all done and the french guy comes to ask me if I want refills, I deny him. Not wanting to get her high. I wanted this to be a fun time and not become a lesson.

As I sit waiting for our ride to arrive, she continues looking around amazed. Her doe eyes wide, face flushed and lips curled up in a adorable 'o' pout. Once I get the message of our driver waiting for us, I raise from the chair and scoop my gorgeous wife in arms. She gasps cutely then getting comfortable. The driver open the car door for me and I slide in the backseat, keeping her on my lap. She stays mum, just blinking up at me with her forehead crinkled in confusion. Like she's thinking something.

Thinking? In drunk state? Advik Mehrotra, expect the unexpected.

I grin to myself, knowing well that I'm the first one who got to be a part of yet another firsts of hers. Smugness alert!

She hiccups before slurring, "I... wants to pance..." Pance? What the fuck is pance and where will I get that?

Knowing she's in no condition to elaborate, I pull out my phone meanwhile my wife keeps looking at me with weird intense eyes. I type in 'pance' on google baba and it shows me information on a computer based exam for physical assistant something. I lock the phone and focus on the wifey.

"Pance? What is that Bugu?" Then it strikes me, 'wants to pance?' Wants to... dance?

"Do you mean dance? You wanna dance, darling?" She says nothing for a moment then bobs her head a little, I smile almost snorting. This woman is so adorable when drunk.

"Nous sommes à votre destination, Monsieur." The driver brings my attention away from my wife for a tiny beat just to notice what he's trying to say. Destination-- our hotel. I smile at him, make the payment and get out with Bugu in arms when he opens the door.

Reaching our bedroom, I drop my too silent to be true wife on the mattress and kneel down to remove her sandals. Her hand slowly sneaks up my chest, coming to gently graze my face with the back of her hand; still seeming amused.

Oh, What I wouldn't do to take a peek in her head right this moment. Just what on my face is so different that she's so diverted?

"Are... you're truee." I don't know what to reply to that. Completely unaware if she's asking me something or telling her mind something. "Hm?" Her finger halts moving on my lips, "lizards eat... me...?" My movements seize, heart wrenching for little Falak. The day that I found her living her nightmare, the first time when we were at the hideout; I was physically in pain. The pain I had only ever felt when Ahaana was hurt, when Suhana cried or made distance because she was too wrapped in her head. The pain I had only ever felt when Mumma was taken to the hospital and she didn't come home for several days. The pain I had felt when DadiMaa didn't respond to my callings and Dad didn't stop sobbing, sitting beside her lifeless body.

When Sahil sensed about Falak's Entomophobia--phobia of bugs crawling on you, he came up with reverse thing; named exposure therapy. Exposure therapy is a psychological treatment that was developed to help people confront their fears. He once went out shop to shop to find out all the silicone 'tiny creatures' that she's afraid of, to bring her out of this. To some extent, this has helped her especially when Sahil's around. There have been a few times when Sahil was near and Falak came across --real-- lizard and some bugs but waved it off thinking it's yet another prank of him; resulting in way lesser breakdowns.

Yes, he has a heart that cares for my parcel no matter what he says or tries to show.

The dialing tone of a call ushers me out to the present, I see my wife narrowing eyes at the phone in her hand. "Hello.." My eyes widen out of their sockets when I hear Sahil's voice.

My wife did not just drunk call her nemesis. Waheguruji, raksha kari...

Meri vohti di!

"No...s fears," Falak slurs making me just keep looking at her in absolute awe.

"Huh?" Sahil responds after a long while of silence.

"Phittey muh tere!" This one comes out of her drunken self, not slurry at all. I go to take the phone away, she squints eyes, pouting out lips in a humph. "Hoon, na kedi kirali naal, na hi tuhade te dara... meri jutti na dare tuhade naal." She says all this in utter boldness--with zilch slurness, though the confusion in her eyes; stays-- like this is entirely her drunken self. Sober Falak would never!

{Neither am I afraid of you, nor any lizard. Hell, even my shoe ain't afraid of you.}

I am just trying to make myself believe that my wife--my Bugu, my Falku-- is all this to none other than Sahil, the only man on this planet that she's afraid of the most.

Yay! Proud husband!

"Achaaa?" I hear the smugness --goodness knows why-- all the way to Paris from Mumbai. Fucker won't let my drunk wife have even one moment of superiority.

"Haan, khottey de puttar. Banda ban ja, kanjar!" She continues, making some weird pissed off faces and then shoving the phone in my direction, I press it to my ears; chuckling.

"Aren't you a hell lot cheerful today?" My best friend remarks, I chortle more.

"On a scale of one to ten, how drunk is she?" He asks, "Ten, and on the same scale a hundred and one confused." I disclose, she interlocks her hands.

"Confused drunk?" I hum to that, watching my wife lay down sideways. I get up from the floor, "she wants to sleep, I'll talk to you later." I mumble to him reaching out to remove the bow--which is an absolute favorite of mine, starting today-- later moving to unzip her sundress.

"Night." We end the call and I keep it aside. "Bugge, drink some water, baby." I fill up the cup and bring it to her lips, putting my hand under her head and raising it a bit to help her drink. She takes a little sip, leaving drool running down her mouth as I take away the glass from her mouth. I wipe it off before placing a sloppy kiss on her lips.

As she lays still seeming confused and groggy, I undress her and put the covers over her. She keeps her head over my thigh, I move away her hairs; patting her head lightly.

The drowsiness turns to sleep and in just some moments she's knocked out. I lay her head down comfortably on the pillow, pressing a kiss to her head. For a good while, I just sit there gazing at her.

The first time I met her... it wasn't love at first time. I gradually developed feelings for her. Every smile, every emotion hidden away from everyone but coming out only in front of me; had me drowning in her. I fell in love not knowing what love was and I stayed in, knowing it's her who's holding my hand just as tightly.

Sometimes my heart feels so heavy, so overwhelmed with all the love that I have for her and no fucking outlet of it. But then I just nestle beside her, hold her close and sniff her hairs to tell my heart, to calm it down that it's done now. She has accepted me as hers forever. She won't leave my hand anytime, and I'll make sure of that by crazily loving her so she's as addicted to me as I am to her.

Dropping yet another chaste kiss on her, I raise from the bed and head to the luggage. Our flight leaves tomorrow. I start to collect all our stuff, leaving just one outfit of both of us for tomorrow. When all things are done and packed, I join her on the bed. The smile on my face and happiness in my heart never dulling as I live my decade long dreams with each second that I get to spend with her.

Living the dream life with the woman of my dreams!

I am one lucky motherf*cker!