For those asking when this book is ending, well! I wished to end this book on my birthday but it seems impossible since it's coming very soon and I have around 28 chapters to go, to the max. So bear with me.

Started Typing On - 27/02/2019

Started Typing Again On - 1/03/2019

Chapter 69- When Putana Calls Kiaan

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Author's Pov:

Their fifth day in New York was ending in couple of hours. It was six thirty five, the clouds had disappeared, now giving full view to the shinning and gorgeous pink and orange sky. All she wanted to do was sit outside, and gaze out at the natural beauty.

"A jumper could help." She heard Kiaan's voice after a long period of silence. She gazed up, feeling the warm woollen Jumper of his being given to her, with a warm, delicate smile. She smiled in return appreciating his common sense. Putting her hands into the warm sleeves she let out a happy sigh. Putting it over her head, she flipped her hair out of the collar, looking at the sky.

"It's so beautiful." She whispered, feeling warm now.

He looked at her the whole time, grinning ear to ear. "It is." His eyes remained on her.

"I sometimes wish to touch the sky. Or sleep on the fluffy, soft clouds. I wonder how it's feel." She lowered her head, giggling lightly. She had always imagined herself sleeping on the clouds like Nobita from Doraemon, but it always remained as an imagination, as a dream. A dream far from reach. "When I was little, I loved the swings. I'd always go to the park with papa and look up at the sky every time he pushed me forwards, gently." She weakly smiled, shaking her head at the memories.

"Why?" he noticed the change between her smiles. It wasn't a happy one like before, the comforting one. This was more like a grieving type, with sadness everywhere, in her eyes, lips, face. He saw how her lips pursed together as she spoke lowly.

"He said Mumma was the star in the sky." She paused, shrugging as her back touched the chair. "I'd look up hoping to catch her hand, pulling me up into an embrace. Or to see her, smiling back at a five year old." She wanted to cry but controlling her emotions was important. Jaanvi felt like Kiaan has seen the crying side of her more than the strong, independent women behind the tears.

Feeling the lump on her throat ready to burst out, she jumped up from her chair, straightening the jumper quickly. "I'll cook." She murmured, walking away before hearing a reply from her husband.

"How are we supposed to move on from our past when we're still holding onto it?" he muttered, extremely low to himself. There was a part of him who understood her very well but also another part who wouldn't understand the root of this problem. Why can't she move on from it? It wasn't even about her ex-boyfriend or perhaps an ex-husband. It was her mother. How was Ma related or reminds her of our relationship? What's the root of this past? Juhi?

When we see something different, something nice, loving or something beautiful which we may not have, we often go back in those bad deep memories. This was what always reminded Jaanvi of her Ma. The things she never had were always behind her. Not the things actually, the person. A mother was the connecting dot in every situation. Whether it was cooking lunch for their children, giving them a bath to teaching them the main reason of a girl's life. She didn't have that. But it always pulled her back.

Jaanvi stood in the kitchen, breathing slowly. Her hands flat on the counter, pushing herself to put her emotions in bay. Few more days. Just few more and I'll meet papa. She didn't realise it till now that she's been addressing her father as 'papa,' and not 'Hero.' If Ansh was here he'd be so happy hearing the word 'Papa,' slipping out of her mouth.

She had redid her bun, not leaving any strands of hair to block her eyes. Once knowing her hair is in place, she washed her hands with hand wash before starting to cook. Jaanvi was in the middle of pouring water into her wheat mixture when he phone buzzed. "Uff ho." She muttered, hearing the ringtone as she gazed at her messy hands.

Leaving the bowl filled with sticky wheat dough, she ran to the sink behind her, washing her hands quickly. "Don't hang up on me Adi." She muttered, trying to take the sticky dough off, of her hand before the phone disconnected. Not being impatient enough she wiped her hands on her black top quickly so the phone screen wouldn't get wet.

"Hey Adi!" she smiled, waiting to hear her best friends voice. All I needed was to talk to you. She held the phone closer to her ear, keeping the bright smile on her face.

"Umm," she heard from the other side. Jaanvi's smile dropped realising it wasn't Aditi. She took the phone away from her ear, glancing at the screen. Rashi it said on the screen. Being a little disappointed, Jaanvi brought the phone closer to her ear. "It's me. Rashi."

I recognised. Jaanvi wanted to say but zipped her mouth shut for a few seconds. "Hi, how are you? Sorry I took long to pick up, I was mixing the do--" she was cut off by Rashi's excited voice.

She sounds too happy. Why? "It's ok and I'm very well! I just called to tell you that once you land in India, I think you land on Sunday?" She questioned, stopping.

"Yeah, well, Sunday morning." Jaanvi corrected.

"Same thing." Rashi muttered, rolling her eyes over the phone. Umm, not really because we will land at around 12 AM on Sunday--- "So! On Tuesday, you all, as in the whole Rajput family is invited to my house."

Calm down. Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out. Jaanvi nodded even though Rashi wasn't in front of her. The word 'my,' took her too long to digest into her head. It's ok, it's her mums fault not Rashi's. But how was she supposed to get it out of her head that her cousins also didn't bother taking care of her old father? Ansh was always remembered for money, otherwise he was out of the picture.

It's ok. It's our house. Our house. We are a family. She started fidgeting with her mangalsutra, (A chain which Hindu married women's wear only.) to keep calm. She tried to console herself that everything is fine. That Rashi didn't say the word on purpose to piss her off. Maybe Jaanvi was being a bitch by taking things to her heart. But the way her cousins also didn't help her old father yesterday made her angry. She's still angry, why wouldn't she?

"-From there we'd have dinner and mum and dad have an important announcement to make. I'm so happy di! I'm sure you'll be thrilled! Everyone's happy! Mum, dad, Jay!" She didn't even bother mentioning papa and dadi. (Grandma) "Oh yes! Can you please inform the chef at your café to make some delicious food? Cake, and maybe some Indian dishes? I think it'll be a great idea I--" the happiness was clear in her voice. But Jaanvi was nowhere near happy.

Even after being away for a week she calls me for her own work. Jaanvi slightly smiles but the anger takes over her, heating her body, especially her head up. "Jitesh is my chef. I pay him for all the work and effort he puts into my business. I will not interrupt or disturb him while he's cooking for my customers, therefore, I'm sorry but he wouldn't be making food for your presumed, would-be-groom. Make it yourself, or help your mum." She didn't say 'Chachi,' (Aunty) like she always did, venom dripping from her tongue.

"And yes, I would come over with my family to visit my papa's house. Bye." She hang up, not being bothered to wait for Rashi's reply or even caring a little bit about her cousin's emotions. Putting the phone on the counter, she massaged her temple furiously when Kiaan walked in.

He eyed her, keeping a blank face walking to the tap. Filling the glass with water, he took a small sip, his back facing her as he spoke. "Anger isn't good. Gets the worst out of people sometimes." She turned around, startled hearing him. When did he get here? His wife took her hand of her forehead, walking up to the sink. Slightly pushing him out of the way by her hip, she took a glass out of the cupboard, filling it up.

"Sometimes the worst is needed." She spat, gulping down the cold water into her dry, raspy throat. She sighed finishing the water, feeling alive now. The water was needed. Or maybe the response to Rashi was needed.

"Maybe." He whispered, drinking his water. Putting the glass on the sink, he watched her getting back to kneading the dough. Her back was facing him but he could tell she wasn't happy. The way her shoulders were tensed, the way she moved her hands furiously he knew something was wrong. He leaned back on the cupboard, folding his arms across his broad chest. "Call from home?" he questioned.

She scoffed, followed by a bitter laugh. "By home you mean my dad?" She emphasised the last word, pushing her finger into the dough roughly. "If yes, then no. It was from my so-called-family. You know, calling in, to just ask for favours, like always." Her tensed shoulder dropped. She was fighting her own battle with her anger. Clutching the bowl tightly around her hand she sighed deeply, looking down at the round dough.

Kiaan refused to talk. He waited for her to speak further on if she wished. All this time he either looked at her back, or the floor, wishing he could help in anyway. There was a frustrated sigh leaving his mouth, making Jaanvi realise he was still standing behind her, she thought he had left before seeing her mental break down or drama.

"How many Roti should I make for you?" She diverted the conversation. Bending down to take the rolling pin and pan out. He kept watching her, his mouth shut, gazing every time she took something out from the cupboards or drawers. "Four?" she asked after a long silence.

"Yeah." He finally said, still leaning against the cupboard, his arms folded.

"Can you leave?" It was getting uncomfortable for her. Someone was present in the same room as her, gazing at her or who knows, boring holes into her back without uttering a single word. Bit intimidating to her. She bit her lower lip, tilting her face a little to catch his expressions. Cold. Just like New York's weather at night. She looked away, focusing on her cooking.

"You know," he murmured after decades, moving towards her with small steps. His hands now unfolded, each step she took Jaanvi seemed to think she's turning into a midget. "Sometimes the oldest daughter in the family needs a hug." To her surprise, he snaked his hands around her waist, turning her around swiftly, smiling weakly. Once she was facing him, he hugged her tightly patting her back.

Kiaan wasn't the type of guy who could open up to people easily or expresses himself, or his feelings. Though he did to Jaanvi, but he couldn't always do it. Just by studying the way she was working for the past hour, the way her shoulders were tensed, how she dropped her shoulders down, basically giving up, he knew something was up. Something which ruined her mood. The least he could do, or what he thought at least was to comfort her.

He pulled her closer, wrapping his large arms around her small frame. She smiled, quietly, appreciating his common sense for once in a lifetime. She inhaled his scent, putting her hand around his waist. It was then when she realised how much she needed to be hugged. How much she wanted a warm comfort by someone. Whenever she was sad, worried or just down in general, her father always stood in front of her with open arms. "Cuuum" (Come) he'd say, smiling at her as she jumped into his healing embrace.

She knew one thing for sure today, even being far away from her father, she still felt the same level of comfort from another man's hug. Her husband's hug. Yes, she can't love someone the way she loves her father, she can't give the same amount of respect she has for Ansh but in her heart, she knows one thing. One thing that, if anything happens in future. Something big, damage worthy, she knows Kiaan would always be there.

"I like hugging you." She giggled a little, pulling away from the loving hug. She turned around, seeing the stove heating up, she lowered the temperature quickly.

"I know." He grinned, smirking afterwards. "That's why I always find a way of pulling you into a hug." He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder as she made round balls out of the wheat dough.

"I'm cooking." Jaanvi acted being strict. "If I burn the roti, or hit you with the rolling pin it's your fault!" She muttered, crunching up her nose from the heat of the stove. I hate making Roti's. He raised his hand up in surrender, backing away from her quickly.

"Sure ma'am." He took long steps backwards, exactly where he stood a couple of minutes before, making Jaanvi laugh seeing him walk away. "Not going to pull a stunt when you're holding that marble rolling pin." He chuckled, pointing at the heavy, white marble rolling pin in her hand.

"Hmmm." She grinned, shaking her head. "Come close to me and this will collide with your head." she joked, bringing it closer to him as he tried moving away in return. Noticing how they both were blending into the act, they burst out laughing at each other.

Once Jaanvi was back to cooking and counting up how many roti's she made so far, Kiaan spoke. "Don't get angry over Rashi and Jay because of Juhi." After what Jaanvi had confessed to him in India, after her panic attack, he'd lost all the little respect he had for her aunty. Since that day he's been addressing her by her name.

"I'm not." Jaanvi voiced out, trying to sound normal but she was nowhere near that. Her voice came out lower than usual, explaining that she was lying. "I try not to." She added once she heard a sigh from Kiaan, realising he caught her lying. "I never treated them differently because of their mother. I-I just-Rashi replied rudely to something Aditi said, I didn't like it. Since then i-it's just stuck in my head. I don't appreciate unworthy or useless dramas." She shrugged, putting the lid on the ghee jar.

"She's young." He thought this was enough to help Jaanvi understand.

But it wasn't. "She's twenty-four Kiaan. Not born yesterday." Jaanvi stressed the word, her face turning sour. "I guess it's j-just the things that happened afterwards. Even little-the tiniest things have happened after that. The way Rashi talks, the---her behaviour is ju---"

He sensed how annoyed, angry, disturbed and worried she looked. He quickly walked over to her, putting his hand on her shoulders, squeezing it. She didn't turn to face him, instead she lowered her head. "I don't know. I-I think i-I'm just a very hatful person." She muttered, feeling ashamed of herself. "I can't forget things, Kiaan. That annoys me but I just can't." She wrapped the roti's around a cloth, putting it on the plate so it doesn't get cold. Stirring the curry, she bit her lip.

"You're not a hatful person Jaanvi. The circumstances have made you this. Even I don't forget things, I'm sure no one does. But you need to learn to forget it. Otherwise it'll haunt you" He whispered, gazing down at her face. "-I think." He added, smiling a little making her shake her head.

"I'm sitting in my chair outside." He informed, taking the plate filled with roti's. He walked out the kitchen leaving a guilty Jaanvi. Maybe I overacted. Today with Rashi and yesterday with Papa. Her lips twitched in sadness, turning into a thin line. Taking her phone in her hand, Jaanvi typed.

Jaanvi- Hey, sorry about earlier, I wasn't in a good mood. Though that doesn't give me the right to snap at you but, sorry. I'll inform Jitesh to work things out during Tuesday so he can cook the food.

The message was delivered but she didn't feel happy like she should have. Not wanting to see being left on a seen or a message by Rashi anytime soon, she switched of her phone, putting it on the kitchen counter as she walked out with the curry in her hand.

"I sent a sorry message to Rashi. She called earlier and I kinda snapped at her." She admitted, sinking down in her chair close to Kiaan.

"I know. I heard a little bit of your conversation with her when I was walking into the kitchen." he also admitted, taking the curry into the little bowl in front of him. "I'm glad you did. Oh, and proud. I'm sure she'll appreciate it from her didi." (Elder sister) But the thing is, I am not her didi. I'm her cousin. I don't have a real sibling to call me didi. She swallowed the lump, looking down at her empty plate. Some people mean more to us then real family. That was Jaanvi's case. Aditi meant more than a real cousin

"Oh, god, this tastes horrible." His sudden raised voice made her flinch on her seat. Eyeing the curry filled in his bowl, and looking at his disgusted face as he chewed the food, she took a little piece of the roti from his, dipping it inside his curry and putting it in her mouth.

She chewed onto it, glaring at Kiaan after tasting it. "You idiot, I got worried, I thought I added too much salt!" she muttered. "It's delicious!" she praised her dish, satisfied with the taste.

"Then eat! Why are you staring at your empty plate?" He murmured, making a face. Bring his plate closer to himself, he started eating again, fake glaring at her. "Unless if you're not hungry, then I could gladly fin--" He suggested, moving his hand closer to the curry bowl.

She noticed his hand moving closer to the bowl, the hungry look on his face explained he wasn't kidding to her. She quickly hit his hand, glaring at him. "Ouch. Mean Cat." He started blowing air on his hand.

"Shut up. I am hungry." She filled her plate up, eating away before he could start talking again. He smiled, seeing her finally filling her stomach up. Kiaan had noted how she use to stare at things for a long time when she was down and food was definitely her second love after cakes, so he had decided to comment on her food to gain her attention. And it worked.

After dinner they were sitting on the sofa, watching the Harry Potter series since they weren't sleepy. Kiaan wanted to watch Lord Of The Rings but it was Jaanvi who stood on her ground, demanding to watch only and only Harry Potter. "And this is where h--" Jaanvi voice was rudely cut off by Kiaan's phone.

Kiaan moved away from Jaanvi, who had her head resting on his shoulder, reaching out for his phone he read the name, looking a bit confused. Wait. Is this one of my co-worker's name from my previous job? He was super confused gazing at the screen, trying to figure out whether this name belonged to someone from the job he had left before coming to India to get married.

Darting his eyes a little, he answered the phone formally, "Hello Miss Putana." His voice wasn't heard by Jaanvi only but Tina also over the phone. Jaanvi turned her whole body, looking at Kiaan with wide eyes and her mouth wide open, enough access for anything big to fit inside.

Kiaan gave Jaanvi a look, shutting her mouth with his fingers touching her soft lips. 'Shh.' He mouthed, making Jaanvi nod, biting her inner cheek. I love myself. She thought, remembering how she saved Tina's number as.

"Umm, hello Miss Pu--" Jaanvi burst out laughing, losing herself after hearing him about to call her 'Putana,' which meant demon or a witch, basically a villain. She jumped up and down, laughing loudly while her husband was confused and definitely unhappy with all the laughing which the other side caller could hear. She laughed so hard, ending up falling into his lap.

She covered her face with her palms, trying to stop herself from laughing. All this time Kiaan was waiting for the person on the line to speak and looking at his wife as if she's gone mad. 'Jaanvi!' he whispered a little, trying to take her hand off, of her face.

"Who's Putana? I'm T Kiaan! Tina!" She winced, angry and sad that he forgot her name. Huffing before she spoke, she said, "You forgot my number?" She said loudly, enough for Jaanvi to hear.

Jaanvi took her hands of her face, fake frowning at Kiaan which he took seriously. Jaanvi mouthed, 'who are you?' she pointed at Kiaan, instigating him.

He pointed at himself, making sure if she was questioning him. Once she nodded, he made a face, very much offended as he said, "Who are you?" loudly.

Just what Jaanvi wanted. She covered her mouth with her hands, not wanting Tina to hear her laugh once again. She moved her face away from his lap, keeping her hand on her mouth as she walked away into the bedroom. Wait! What? Kiaan thought, the answer to his question was given by Tina.

"What do you mean who am I? I'm Tina! How could you Kiaan?" She raised her voice, not happy with whatever he had called her. Thankfully to his luck, Tina had no clue what or who was Putana or she would have called Kajal, cursing her. Jaanvi. He groaned, zipping his mouth shut.

"Sorry Tina. I wasn't talking to you, i-I was watching a movie." He made an excuse, looking for the remote to turn the volume on. "See." He said, turning the volume to hundred. "I-I have to go." Kiaan hang up turning the phone off. "Jaanvi I'll kill you!" He yelled, irritated to another level.

Married My Enemy