Warning: The first half includes 18+ portions, details but nothing kinky. It will be marked by **** at the beginning and end. Do skip it if you're not comfortable with reading such content. There's fluff before, and even between the **** though. Lots of fluff. 

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Two weeks later.... 

Shiva sighed as he tucked Raavi's hair behind her ear again. It kept blocking his view of her face, despite the fact that she was sitting in the vee of his legs. "Shiva!", she muttered when he quickly snuck his hands beneath her dupatta and against her bare midriff, just as she shifted closer to his chest, curling up a bit more. "Kya?! Thand lag raha hain...", he replied, taking care to not break the silence around them. She continued reading without bothering to reply, and he continued to stare at her.

He hadn't known, really. 

That she loved books so much. No wonder that Maami had always made such a fuss about Raavi being so much more educated than him. But, clearly, Maami hadn't known exactly what her laadli had been reading. Or she would've forced Raavi into a Bachelor's in Literature instead of the B. Com she'd taken up to impress his family. And farther away from him. Bholenath might have given them a path full of twists and turns on their way to each other, but he'd still given them a path. 

He looked around the room, their room. Her parents old bedroom. The broad set of wooden doors leading out to the patio wide open, diyas set along the bottom of the railing outside and by the doors themselves with betel leaves under them to keep the wood from staining. A huge floor to ceiling bookshelf along one wall, filled with books. Novels in both Hindi and English, Classics, dictionaries, encyclopedias, her papa's textbooks from business school.... And the Queen size against the wall opposite it, large enough that they weren't uncomfortable with his tendency to sprawl all over, but small enough that there wasn't a moment in the night when they weren't touching each other.

They were sat on the diwan on the floor, between the door leading to the Hall and the bookshelves. Close enough to the cold wood of the floor that she could never object to the way he had wrapped himself all around her.... Well, he did need her for warmth. Just not for the physical concept of it. She needed that more than him, though she wouldn't ever accept it. 

In the light from the amber lamp beside them and the multiple diyas she'd lit around the room, with the sound of waves crashing against the beach nearby and the distant toll of temple bells, Shiva continued to watch her. His Raavi. His wife. And all of a sudden, it wasn't enough to watch. It was Diwali. And if his shechu, fake green Diwali celebrating wife wouldn't let him burst actual crackers, then he'd just have to find a way around it to his much beloved pataka moments... 

He looked over her shoulder at her book, making a note of the page number so that she couldn't grouch about having lost her place. As he gently blew into her ear, he was reminded of the morning after their first time.... Of how she'd been so sore she had had to keep shifting around uncomfortably, and the guilt of having caused her pain despite having tried being gentle hadn't let him touch her in peace until she said that it was, in her own words, "less pain and more of a satisfied soreness that comes with sudden yet fruitful exercise, gadheda!"

Now, he felt her breath catch on its way in before she let it out. Not a single change in her face. Well, they were going to play it that way, were they? He let the hands he'd settled on her midriff pull away slowly, hovering instead, and he let just his fingertips touch her skin. And then he moved them. In a barely there touch that he'd learnt by now would raise goosebumps on her skin yet leave her wanting for more. Her breath hitched audibly this time, her belly tightening under his hands and he had to hold in a chuckle. 

She blinked rapidly, eyes still fixed on her book, but they were no longer following the lines. She wasn't reading anymore. Step one had been a success, his wife was now distracted. He shifted forward as far as he could, and bending his head down a bit, blew a still gentle but faster stream of air into her ear. She gasped, trying to shift away, but when his arms banded around her again she let her book fall close in her lap, turning her face to the side to see him. Their noses bumped against each other, and he breathed a chuckle as she scrunched it up in irritation, her ittu sa naak. 

He pecked her on the nose, watching it relax almost immediately. "Happy Diwali, Raavi".

Her nose scrunched right back up again, brows furrowing in irritation at him. "Yeh bolne ke liye tu mujhe itna pareshaan kar raha tha?". He put on his innocent face, controlling his intense urge to smirk as he threw back a question at her. "Maine kya kiya tujhe pareshaan karne ke liye? Main tho bas ek thandi raat pe apni biwi ko pakad ke baitha hoon". The next moment, he saw a realisation and a mischievous twinkle appear in her eyes. She knew exactly what he wanted, but wasn't going to admit to it. Minx.

She knew he'd been controlling himself the whole day. He should never asked her to get this set of clothes. She looked too beautiful in it for the eyes of the layman to land on. But it had reminded him so much of her lehenga from their wedding. The same maroon and off-white against her creamy skin, but simple enough that they could afford it on the needs only budget they had.

She turned around in his hold, letting her legs fall yet still pulled up close to her. Step two was a success, pull her attention towards himself. He let one leg extend and the other support her back, pulling her even closer as he realised she was actively planning mischief. "Sacchi bohot thand haina Shiva aaj?", she asked him in her innocent voice, and mere human that he was to her siren, he nodded. Mistake. She quickly raised her hands to his cheek and cupped them. "Aye gadhedi, haath hain ki barf ki packet?!", he yelped out before pulling her hands away and gathering them both in one of his own as pulled her face closer by the back of her neck and snapped threateningly at her cheek. She kept giggling merrily even as she pulled back just enough.

Two weeks into what he could promise was a more than fairly active sexual life, and still as pure as if she was a child. He had thought women like her only existed in the lore of their lands anymore. But concern overrode his wonder as he realised that her hands truly were freezing cold. Just because he was concerned, it didn't mean that he would play nice. There were fun ways to warm people up too.

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He pulled the hand with her wrists in it towards himself, slowly blowing warm air across her fingertips before placing tiny pecks across them as her giggles stopped abruptly, breath hitching again. He ran his lips down the back of one hand and forward before he caught her eye and nipped right over her pulse. Her lifeblood was his, just as his was hers. Quickly moving up her palm, he wrapped his lips around the middle finger of one hand before twirling his tongue around it and sucking as he let his teeth scrape against her skin. She moaned his name, eyes closing as she arched against the leg her back rested on. Step three was also a success, make her lose control.

Now, he gave up this little game he'd been playing and letting go of her hands, quickly kissed her, her lips falling apart to welcome him even as he felt her smile happily. Perhaps another day he'd have the patience for it. He pulled her close, practically in his lap, and as he raised the hand not on her neck to her arm below the short sleeves, he felt the net of her dratted dupatta. Admitted that she only chose to drape it properly when they left the house, choosing to let it flow down from her shoulders at other times, it still annoyed him at moments. He understood his shy wife's need for modesty though, and the possessive part of him appreciated it too.

Breaking away from the kiss, he let his eyes run over her. Every single thing she'd brought for herself for today had been chosen by him. From the jhumkas, to the thread bangles, to the silver payals he'd gotten her as a gift for their first Diwali after their marriage. It hadn't been the plan. They'd both been making do with her parents old clothes that her Chacha had given them upon coming to know that they hadn't brought much with them.

So when they'd gone to the bazaar, he had wanted to lavish her as much as he reasonably could. And she'd kept coming back to him with things in her hands, asking him what looked better on her and what she should buy. He'd avoided answering, and she buying, until he hadn't been able to stop commenting on the choice of clothes. The same designs that she'd been wearing since they'd gotten here, and he'd loved on her instantly, but something new and slightly more stylish. The way her eyes had lit up had allowed him to choose the rest with her too.

Gathering a handful of her dupatta from over her chest, he pulled it away and threw it without caring for where it ended up landing. Even as she laughed at his impatience, he quickly picked her up in his arms and walked towards the bed, her skirt escaping the bounds of his arms and flowing beyond it. Her arms tightened around his neck, hands moving up into his hair and scratching at his scalp. Laying her down quickly, he watched as she rolled over and stopped on her side, her head resting on one extended arm, the other reaching out to him, hair flaring out behind her head.

He walked towards the patio doors, locking them, then pulling the curtains close. She was his, and he'd kill before he let anyone else see her in such a vulnerable position. Walking back to her, he pulled off the matching cotton kurta she'd gotten for him, leaving him in just his jeans as he lay down on his side, threw an arm around her waist, and kissed her again, gently pushing her to lay beneath him. Breaking away as they both gasped for air, he ran his lips over her face. Her forehead, cheeks, jawline, the tip of her nose. Coming to her ears, he quickly removed her jhumkas, first one then the other, carefully placing them on the bedside table before kissing her lobes and moving lower.

He left her mangalsutra on, instead choosing to open the side zip of her fitted crop top as he marked her collar bones and neck. Bangles went next. Then the rest of her clothes. He mapped her out, familiar terrain though she was becoming now. First with eyes, then hands, then lips and tongue and teeth. Until she was left in nothing but her flushed, warm, silk skin, her mangalsutra and sindoor her only adornments, her tiny white stone bindi having fallen somewhere in the process.

She didn't just lay there either. With the way she had been running her lips and hands and feet all over him, and the number of times her nails had dug in and left him in pleasure pain, he was almost painfully hard by the time he was done undressing her. "Shiva! Kya kar raha hain tu?", she breathed out, clearly annoyed at him for not kissing her. Sometimes, she really had no idea how much she affected him. How strongly.

He let his hand drop down to her core, lightly passing over her nub, probably frustrating her to no end, before inserting a finger and stretching to see if she was ready. For him. Because he'd spent nearly all their private time today at half mast, and seeing her in those clothes gave him a primal urge to claim her the way he would've on their wedding night if their wedding had happened under better circumstances. He really couldn't wait anymore. But not at the price of her comfort, no.

Thankfully, she was ready. He unzipped his jeans, pushing it down along with his boxers as much as he could, before stroking himself once, twice. Positioning himself at her entrance, he looked up into her eyes for permission, and to make sure she'd taken the pill today. She nodded quickly, legs coming up around his waist and feet pushing into his buttocks at the same time as she rotated her hips forward, pushing him into her. He groaned, scrambling to get a good hold on her hips and stop her with how taken aback by that move he was, before pushing the rest of the way into her.

As her wet warmth enveloped him, tight as ever, he remembered how their first time she'd taken only one finger. So untouched. He'd been so scared she wouldn't be prepared enough that he'd let her peak twice before even considering the thought of actually going through with the sex. Now, she took him in with ease and molded around him as if she'd been made for him. His custom made home.

He rocked in and out of her slowly, letting her adjust because he hadn't let her peak beforehand this time. "Shiva, aur chahiye....Please", she told him even as she rocked her hips to the pace he'd set, hands pushing at his shoulder blades to pull him closer. He didn't change his pace, figuring he'd tease her for a bit. But then, his wife was an impatient creature. And bold. And a bit of a quick study. Which was why when her verbal pleas did nothing for her, she pushed at him quickly, flipping them over so that he was lying down and she was straddling him with her hands on his chest. And she'd managed it all with him still seated inside her.

He groaned her name out as she took him in right till the base, hands tightening over her hips as she rose up, then impaled herself on him, a gasp of acute pleasure leaving her. She raised herself up again, her body brushing against his, and the feel of her soft body against his hard one made him clench her hips even harder. He was going to leave marks, he was sure. He helped her set a pace, fast and hard, eyes closed to concentrate. Then he opened them, only to see her hair falling over her shoulders, covering her face and breasts.

Needing to see the pleasure on her face, he took one hand off of her, gathering her hair in it at her nape, twisting it around his hand once before tugging at it. She arched, moaning out a "Shivaaaa... ", and the sight of her lost in ecstacy and riding him had him so close to coming he let go, flipping them back over and maintaing the fast pace they'd set. She giggled, yes, giggled. His wife was prone to doing that in between bouts of intense love making.

As her core began to tighten around him, he let a hand move down, rubbing at her nub, and.... Mission success. Pataka moment achieved. He came apart just as she began to come down from her high, his thrusts losing any rhythm or rhyme, and she peaked again with him. He let his weight fall over her. Just a moment, he needed just a moment of her holding him together.

Her arms tightened around him, one smoothing down his back and settling as the other caressed his hair. He nuzzled into the junction of her neck and shoulder, and she gave him a low pitched laugh, "Tujhe bhi Happy Diwali, Shiva", she said. He raised himself off of her to look into her smiling face, elbows carrying his weight. "Yeh bhi sahi hain", he said, turning over and pulling her over him to cuddle as they fell asleep.

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The morning after

When the bright light from the huge windows by the door to the patio woke him up the next day, Shiva knew. Shiva knew she'd bring the topic of their return today. Most probably ask that they go back today itself. He had seen her folding all the clothes and preparing for a stuffing in the bag's all that's required packing session. He had expected it though. His wife was a brave woman, unlike him. She had had the guts to take that first step despite all of his reluctance, his attempts to evade the confrontation with his own feelings that their happiness had demanded of him.

He looked down at her face, only to see that it was covered by her hair. Again. That hair was both the bane of his existence, and the most enticing thing he'd ever known. At the same time. He tucked it away behind her ear, looking down on her face relaxed in sleep. She looked like a toddler lying on a parent's chest. So peaceful.

And he knew that she was peaceful solely because it had hit him like a tonne of bricks after that first night of conversation, in the guest room at her Chacha's place, exactly how exhausted she looked. Dark circles under her eyes, pale face, hollow cheeks, red, dull eyes. His fault. All his.

But she'd still looked peaceful as she'd snuggled into him. The next night, during the catharsis of their love making, it had been like he'd kissed her, and he'd breathed life into her, not mere air. He had made it a habit in the past two weeks, to wake before her and see her face and assure himself that she wasn't in that horrible place of pain anymore. That he would uphold his promise to himself to take her back, but to make sure she'd never be through the pain he and his family had put her through again.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and her gilded eyes looked right at him. "Good morning", she said, her soft voice still husky with sleep. "Bhook lagi?", he asked, voice teasing and face serious. "Nahi, abhi nahi". She simply lay there, breathing into his chest for a while before looking up at him again. "Humein wapas Somnath jaana chahiye. Pandya Niwas main", she said with the slightest hint of hesitation in her voice.

He had only one question he needed to know the answer to. "Kyun, Raavi?". "Kyun ki voh abh bhi humara ghar hain Shiva, aur shahad humesha rahega". He simply nodded at her, agreeing that that was perhaps enough, worth it if she wanted it, before pecking her on the forehead and sitting up, pulling her along with him. They were going back home. Escapism might be an art in itself, but it wasn't an art of solutions.

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The same evening

Shiva was paying the rikshaw wala when he felt Raavi clutch at the folded sleeve of his outer shirt. He finished paying, thanking the bhaiyya before he turned around, only to see her standing in her pink and white kurti and anxiously looking around at the people staring at them.

The whole street had stopped it's work to stare at them. But Shiva had been expecting this. What with his mother's propensity for drama, and his bhabhi's habit of worrying unnecessarily, the whole street would've known about their disappearance by the time they'd settled in at her chacha's place. By the time they'd gone to her parents old house the next day, Somnath must have been on high alert for their return. Hopefully, Mami hadn't gone to the police, because if she'd felt truly mistrustful of his letter, then parivaar ki izzat wouldn't have stopped her. Unlike his expectations of his own family.

They walked down towards the street to Pandya Niwas. To their home. When Kanta kaki glared at Raavi as they passed her home, Shiva glared right back though Raavi simply took a step closer towards him. He held her hand with his free one, the things they'd taken with them dangling from his other hand in a duffel.

By the time they reached their own house, the whole family was standing outside. Again, expected. For him atleast. Raavi looked so surprised his heart clenched for her, and there seemed to be fear mingling in with her nervousness now. He tightened his hold on her hand, nodding at her when she turned to look at him in response. She relaxed the slightest bit, taking yet another step closer to him. Now, if he wanted to, he could lift a hand and tuck her right into his side. He wished she would let him hide her from the whole world. But she wanted to face it, and his job was to protect her.

They stopped a few feet away from the first step of the house. Right opposite his mother, sat in her wheelchair and staring intently at the two of them. Her head was still held up proudly, though, nose still up in the air despite her covered head.

"Aa gayi Laila Majnu wapas?", she asked, voice ringing and the derisive note in her voice clear for everyone to hear with the way the whole street was as quite as a tomb. Well, the simplest answers were always the truest. "Haan, maa", he replied simply. Her eyes widened at his, in her opinion, daring frankness, but she masked it quickly enough that no one else would've caught onto it except for her 4 sons.

"Aye petticoat chaap number teen, teri Laila ki muh sil gayi kya?!", she asked again, glaring at Raavi. "Nahi! Kaki, main tho bas... ", she trailed off and looked to him, not knowing what to say and what not to. How could she tell his mother that she'd been part of their reason for leaving? He blinked at her, telling her to let him take the lead this time. She nodded, stepping so close she was half hidden behind him, peaking over his shoulder at their family.

"Bhaag kyun gaye the dono kisi ko bina bataye?", his Maa asked, and although he heard the barest hint of pain in her voice, he wasn't quite ready to let things go now. "Bina bataaye kahaan gaye Maa? Chitti likh ke diya tha, Hardik Bhai ko. Bhai ne diya nahi kya?", he threw back. The challenge in his voice unmistakable. If you wish to blame me, then take your own share of blame too mother.

She didn't say anything, instead choosing to look towards his bhabhi. Truce. For now. "Kya kab se kade kade baat kar rahe hain tum dono? Do hafte baad ghar vapas aaye hain, rukh zara, aarti ki taal leke aati hoon, phir andar aa jao, theek hain?". Then she ran back inside. By now, Maami had come out too, the commotion having finally disturbed what must have been her evening nap. She came up to Raavi, holding her gently by the shoulders and looking her up and down. "Aye, dhikri, tu theek hain na?". Then she cupped Raavi's cheeks, glaring at him before looking back at her daughter, "Tu sacchi apni marzi se gayi thi iss raakshas ke saath? Tumhari chitti padh ke chup rahi main itne din, par agar iss junglee ne tere saath koyi bhi zor zabardast ki tho abhi bataa de apni Maasi Ma ko! Seedhe jail bijwa denge iss raakshas ko hum". It hurt that people could think that about him. That he would have to force his wife to come with him. But, Shiva knew when to react and when not to. Now wasn't the time for that.

His Raavi, his wife, didn't seem to care for things like that, though. She stared at her Maasi in what seemed to be shock, for a moment. His innocent wife must have expected the happiness of her arrival and nothing else from her beloved Maasi Ma. He sighed and turned to interrupt before she ended up hurting herself more when she began to talk, a slightly angry and mostly disappointed look on her face. "Maasi aap aise soch bhi kaise sakte ho Shiva ke baare main! Aap isse bhi tho bachpan se jaante ho na! Aur yeh kya hain? Shiva ko raakshas, junglee.... Yeh sab nahi bula sakte aap Maasi. Aaj ke baad tho bilkul bhi nahi. Hum dono ne divorce application wapas le li hain. Tho abh aapki puri zindagi ke liye Shiva aapki damad hain, aur aapko usse uss izzat deni hi padegi. Varna iss baar tho main wapas aa gayi hoon, par agli baar nahi aaungi."

He looked at her in wonder before the expression on his mother's face caught his attention. Shock, the slightest bit of pride, and her thinking face on. She was going to do something backhanded for sure now.

His bhabhi returned with the Aarti, and once she was done with it and sure that no nazar was left stuck to them, they moved towards his mother for her blessings. She laid her hands on their heads, mumbling her blessings for them, then as he rose up, she didn't let Raavi rise up, instead pressing her head closer to her with her hand. He was about to pull her up no matter what when his mother spoke. "Aaj se, tu mujhe Maa bulayegi. Kyunki maine apni saari bahuon ko beti ki darja di hain iss ghar main, aur tumhari bhi vahi hogi aaj ke baad."

He felt a sharp anger rise up in him, nearly overwhelming him with its speed. No. Not like this. His mother had a good heart underneath years of a mindset developed in an orthodox household and molded by the taunts of society. But she could be extremely manipulative when it came to handing out her love. While her four sons understood and ran with her twisted ways, his chipkali didn't deserve it. His Raavi, his wife, who was content to live life with only the barest scraps of love to call her own, deserved better than his mother's manipulations. This was just another way to compete with Mami for his mother.

He was about to speak for her, protect her as he had promised when she beat him to the line. Standing up straight, she met his mother's eyes head on and, "Nahi Kaki. Abhi tho main sahi maine main Shiva ki biwi ban rahi hoon. Pehle mujhe iss ghar ki bahu banne dijiye, phir aapko jab sahi lage beti banne ka promotion de dijiye". All with a smile still on her face, but he saw the hint of pain in her eyes. She'd understood what his mother was trying to do.

His mother looked at him, anger sparking anew in her eyes, but he simply stepped closer to Raavi and threw one hand over her shoulder and squeezed. He had made his choice, it was his mother's turn now. She looked away, hand gesturing at them to step into the house. They stepped in together, the whole family cheering for them, and when he looked at Raavi, she was looking right back at him.

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6 months later

Raavi watched as Shiva sneezed once more. The whole family held their breath for a moment before collectively glaring at the sheepish expression he threw their way right after. Thankfully he didn't have the guts to send the same look her way. She couldn't ever quite keep angry at him when he looked that cute.

He continued towelling his hair as Krish and Dev laughed at the way a heavily pregnant Dhara di instructed him on it. Gaumbi, the poor man, sat on the smaller sofa, watching with an amused yet wary look in his eyes, not knowing when the situation would escalate what with Dhara Di's mood swings.

He'd gone to save the boris from the downpour. And had managed to as well. And then he'd come back looking like a drowned rat, or that's what she'd told him before pushing him into the bathroom with strict instructions to bathe in warm water. It had been too late by then, though. He'd walked out sneezing and the whole family had assembled around them within moments. Now, Raavi stood silently to the side as she watched, waiting for the kaada she'd left boiling on the stove to reduce enough that she could give it to her husband. Must be ready by now, really.

She walked into the kitchen, quickly checking on the kaada, and realising it was ready, she drained the liquid into a glass, making sure it was clear of the herbs and spices she'd used so that her fussy child of a husband wouldn't have extra room to complain. She walked out and upon crossing a harassed looking Rishita, "Kya hua Rishita?", she asked, a curious look on her face, only to receive a quick "Shiva steam karne ke liye garam paani, Maa ne bola!", before rushing right past her. She turned back forward and met Kaki's concerned eyes, acknowledging her with a quick nod of her head before moving towards Shiva with the kaada in hand.

Her relationship with her mother-in-law had been one filled mostly with silence in the past six months since her return to Pandya Niwas as Shiva's wife. They both talked to each other when absolutely required, acknowledging the presence of the other through nods and the occasional waves otherwise, and although Raavi called her Kaki to her face and to others, she'd picked up a habit of referring to her as Shiva's mother when talking to Shiva himself. No matter where she was. It was always "tera Maa" between the two of them. Of course the rest of the family had noticed, but they had had the tact and grace to not mention it, a surprising improvement. Her mother-in-law had reciprocated. By giving instructions regarding the household work through Dhara di or Rishita, and anything else through Shiva. But she'd stayed Raavi, no nicknames for her. And no more demeaning nicknames for anyone in the house, actually.

She nudged at a still laughing Krish's legs, crossing him to stand between Shiva and the teapoy, moving the glass towards him as he turned away from Dhara di and towards her upon sensing her presence. He scrunched his face up upon noticing the steaming glass in her hand, shaking his head and muttering a "Sochna bhi mat!" at her even as he nudged Krish out of his seat and pulled her by her wrist to sit beside him. She chuckled at him, unable to help herself, then went on to try and convince him. "Dekh Shiva, yeh waala kaada bilkul bhi kadva nahi hota hain, yeh to thoda spicy hoga, accha lagega peeke, sacchi!"

He shook his head again, his glare at her falling pathetically short with how obvious it was that he was trying to control another sneeze. A moment later, he gave up and turned away to sneeze, and she raised her hand to give him a tapli on the back of his head, irritation at his lack of concern for his health beginning to rise up in her. But just as she brought her hand down, he turned his face back towards her and...

She'd slapped him. Again. No matter how softly or unintentionally it had been. Her eyes widened in immediate shock as everything that had happened after the last time she'd slapped him ran in front of her eyes. "Raavi!", Dhara di gasped out, and she felt an irrational fear rise up to overwhelm her. The whole family was here. Kaki was here. She blinked past the pooling tears and focused on Shiva, only to see him looking at her with an intensity in his eyes that told her that she was his focus now. No one else.

He must have seen her fear, her panic, because he chuckled quickly in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "Itna kya ghoor rahi hain mujhe? Kaada hi tho peena tha na, agar tu pilayegi tho main pee lunga, theek hain?", he said with a crooked grin, pulling the hand with the glass in it towards himself and quickly gulping down the contents. There was absolute silence as he finished drinking, then placed the glass on the teapoy, the clink of it the only sound in the whole house.

She had just taken breath when she heard a "Aye Raavi!", in what seemed to be her saas' voice. Breath stopping again, she slowly turned to see her, only to feel her eyes go even wider at the sight of her smiling mother-in-law. "Yeh hui na baath! Aise hi, jab bhi yeh zidd karta haina? Ek tapli de, aur line pe aa jaayega, kyun Shiva?"

She sat there in mild disbelief as her husband went on to reply as if the rest of them weren't there at all. "Haan Maa, bilkul. Yeh mujhse haq se nahi ladegi tho aur kaun ladegi, haina? Aur vaise bhi, yeh kaada sacch main accha hi tha", he squeezed her hand that was still in his even as she peeked up to look at her saas' reaction. "Haan, yeh baat bhi tho sahi hain ki iski haath ka swaad kisi aur ko nahi aata hain iss ghar main, kyun Raavi beta?". And maybe it was the fact that her tone was still jesting, or the look in her eyes was the same fond look she'd been so used to before everything that had happened between her and Shiva, or perhaps it was the motherly pride in her eyes, but what she said next had been a knee jerk reaction of sorts. "Ji Maa, voh tho hain". With a grin to boot.

But as she saw the smile on her saas' face freeze for a moment, she felt a cold fear grip her heart. She turned to see Shiva only to see him giving her a knowing smile, like he'd expected this to happen someday or the other. "Kya boli tune? Maa? Maa boli tune mujhe?", Kaki threw questions at her as Raavi watched frozen, not knowing what to expect.

"Aye Rishita! Kya kade kade dekh rahi hain? Chal, jaa ke rasoi se kuch mithaayi le aana?!", she shouted before gesturing to her to come closer. Raavi got up, pulling Shiva up with her because she couldn't let go of him now, sick husband or not. And as she kneeled in front of her saas, her kaki, she felt herself tear up at the sight of the affection and happiness in her eyes. "Che mahine pehle tune mujhse kaha tha, ki mujhe pehle iss ghar ki bahu banne dijiye, phir beti banti hoon. Aur maine maan bhi li. Par jaate jaate samaj main aaya, ki tu tho humesha se iss ghar ki beti hi thi, maine hi saas banne ki chakkar main maa banna bhool gayi. Par aaj jab tune apne muh se, apne marzi se mujhe maa bulaaya hain, tho apni iss maa ki galtiyon ko maaf karke mere haath se yeh mithaayi khaa le. Voh, voh kya bolte hain?", she asked, grabbing a piece of peda from the box Rishita had brought and holding it out to her. "Pileej, haan?"

Raavi blinked, a tear falling as she turned to look at her Shiva, her everything, and at the sight of his happy smile she turned and took a bite from the sweet still being held out to her. She laughed happily as her Kaki, her Maa, brought the sweet in front of her again, "Arrey, poori khaa na Raavi beta?!", "Nahi Maa, voh mujhe peda pasand nahi haina, isiliye! Aap isse iss bhootnath ko khilaa dijiye, main koi aur sweet khaa lungi".

Shiva's mother, her mother, froze for a second before she threw her head back and guffawed. The whole family joined in quickly, the joy being contagious.

And as her still chuckling husband pulled her into a hug and she hid her face in his shoulder, the only sound she could hear in the house was that of the family's joyful laughter. Her family. Ghar.

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Author's note: This is the end of this TS people. Hope you loved it, and hope you liked Suman being forgiven eventually.
I appreciate your votes and comments so very much! So thank you for all the love.