47. Aapne toh dooriyan hone se pehle hi bana li. (You created distances even before they could physically happen.)

Warning: Sexual content ahead.

•°•

- priya -

Aditya laid me down, his strength subduing my weak resistance. I met his eyes shyly, my hands settled on his shoulders, marvelling at their broadness, how they hide me so well in his arms, as though protecting me from the rest of the world. He leaned in with the need to connect us, our lips whispering the same. I closed my eyes when his mouth settled on mine oh so gently that I felt I was kissing a pair of petals. A whimper fell past my mouth, body arching to brush against his. His legs were just as skilled as his lips, cornering mine between his, and the lower his hips went, the louder I moaned. I gripped his shoulders tightly, clutching the soft fabric of his hoodie in my fists.

He broke apart from my mouth when the need for air demanded its way back in. My lungs expanded, chest rising as a response, head craning towards left when his lips joined the abuse, fluttering down my neck like a swarm of butterflies chasing the most sought flower.

"Aditya," I murmured, weaving my fingers through his dark hair, stroking his head gently.

He hummed dragging his lips to my cleavage. Lifting his head, he kept our eyes bridged while undoing the buttons of my shirt. His gaze appeared hooded, combined with sleep and lust. Maybe the medicines were making him feel light-headed. I cupped his face, bringing him closer to brush our lips against each other.

"It's okay, sleep," I whispered.

His fingers slowed, tongue sneaking out to taste the corner of my lips. I matched his desperation, conjoined by our frustrations of not being able to relieve ourselves, pouring it all in the last kiss for the night.

When he pulled away, I let my hand slip inside his hoodie to stroke his back. "Sleep, love," I murmured in his ear.

His body slumped beside mine, face seeking the warmth of my neck. I held his arm around my waist, making sure I didn't touch or nudge his injured fingers. Threading my fingers in his hair, his eyes slowly fell close, the aftereffects of the medicines dragging him away from the conscious world.

I closed my eyes as well, trying to fall asleep.

Considering I'm sensitive in my sleep, the restless rustling woke me up. I reached out to turn on the lamplight, forcing my eyes open to read the time on the clock. It was only five am. My gaze darted to the cause of my broken slumber, having heard his rough breaths, I understood the reason for his uneasiness.

"Use a cold shower," I suggested softly.

He grunted under his breath, draping his arm across his eyes. Not a minute passed and he shifted his pants, his cheeks forming a tinted red.

I sighed.

It's not a surprise anymore that Aditya has a high sex drive. Initially, I didn't pay it any mind, welcoming his touch openly. That's how men are anyway, aren't they? But Aditya is a notch higher. It's as if a trigger is set off after our first time. I don't blame him, to be honest. A twenty-five-year-old man and a virgin, consequences were bound to happen. This just turned out to be a long-term one.

I looked at him once again. His veins were prominent, eyes clenched shut, jaw locked and lips pressed in a thin line. A sheen layer of sweat coated his porcelain skin, shining under the dull throb of lights. He looked beautiful.

As someone who grew up in a conservative family, words like lust, sex, and physical intimacy were frowned upon, and so were the people who talked about it openly. Honestly, I didn't care. I was too busy making a life to even think about the pleasures it has to offer, for they sounded too far-fetched for a sheltered woman like me.

But tonight as I lay there, watching his chest rise and sink, his hooded eyes blinking slowly, long lashes dark and drenched because of the sleep-deprived tears, his cheeks flushed and hair an unruly mess, he was stunning.

I realised, that if lust was an art, he would be the masterpiece, the muse of many artists.

Suddenly he got up, gripping the back of his shirt with his good hand and removing it off his body deftly, revealing his broad back to me. My eyes fell lower, tracing the curve of his spine and the trimmed waist. His shoulder blades flexed as he tossed the t-shirt on the floor, feet kicking off the blanket from his lower half.

I raised my head as he got off the bed, heading inside the bathroom.

But then he returned five minutes later, with an even frustrated expression marring his face. He laid back on the bed, turning to the other side.

"What happened?" I asked softly, afraid of becoming his last trigger point.

He raised his fractured hand, wiggling those tightly cast fingers.

Oh.

That's his right hand.

"Shou-Should I help?" My voice wavered asking that.

"Forget it. Good night." He replied in a hoarse tone.

I laid on my back, tapping my fingers that were interlaced on my stomach, my feet swaying unintentionally. I kept my eyes locked on the rotating fan, wishing it lulls me to sleep.

Sometime later, he turned over, lying on his back as well.

"Priya," he whispered in the dark night.

I hummed, ignoring the way my heart rammed into my chest.

"I- I tried very hard to get rid of it. I forced myself to think of stupid things, imagined gross scenarios, but I can't- I can't seem to stop thinking of you." He whispered, sounding ashamed and meek.

My cheeks flared up, interlaced fingers twisting together.

"Oh," that was the best I could come up with at that time.

I was completely frozen. Intimacy with him wasn't new, heck, it wasn't even recent. But I never initiated it, and neither needed to participate as much as he did. I got the pleasure of just laying beneath him, letting him do all the work while I bore the fruits.

"Can- can you- if it's not uncomfortable, can you please help me out?" He asked weakly. "I wouldn't have requested you, honestly. But my left hand is of no use, and my right hand-" his words got cut off by a gasp when I leaned in to kiss him, my actions unceremonious, unexpected, even for me.

I didn't climb him, it felt too erroneous and bold. I wasn't that confident. So I quietly laid my hand close to his hips, pressing my breasts to the side of his body, letting his arm wrap around my waist, and pulling me closer, causing our lips to practically inhale each other.

When I pulled away, the corner of his mouth had quirked up in a lopsided smile. I rested our foreheads together, my hand extending to fill the gaps in his fingers. He responded fervently, gripping my hand tighter. I breathed his scent in, sighing in contentment.

Then he diverted my attention with a kiss, thinking he was sneaky as he directed my hand to his crotch, leaving it there gently. I breathed harshly against his lips, mostly panicking inside my head because I'd never before thought of doing something like this for my partner.

"Mo-move your hand," he whispered, cupping my neck and burying my face in his chest. "Gently,"

I did, shuddering softly as I felt his girth grow even larger under my touch, almost not fitting my hand. He was too big, too hard, and too new for me.

"Yeah, that's right," he rubbed my back, up and down. "Follow," and instructed.

I obeyed, copying the exact actions of his hand on my back. His left hand sneaked beneath my shirt, grasping my bare breasts and I froze. "Don't stop," he murmured, his large hand kneading my mound gently, in a circular motion, his thumb tweaking my nipple back and forth.

I was a puddle beside him, melting into his arms slowly.

"Priya," he growled lowly, "don't fucking stop." I gasped when he pinched my nipple harshly.

I resumed the motions of my hand over his length, sighing against his chest as he returned the favour readily.

"Priya,"

I hummed.

"Can- Can you touch me bare?" He asked softly.

I swallowed, lifting my head to look at him. Unlike me, he wasn't completely enjoying it, the lines on his forehead spoke for his dissatisfaction.

"You- You don't have to if you're not ready." He forced a smile at me.

I nibbled on my lower lip, reaching to kiss him once again as my hand boldly slipped inside his sweats, cupping him over the tight briefs. That excited him to the point he thrust his hips forward, chasing my touch. I chuckled against his lips, blind courage filling me at his response.

"Mo- More," he begged.

My hand sneaked inside his briefs, holding him bare in my fist.

A groan escaped from the back of his throat, his lips clumsy against mine. I repeated the same actions he taught me. But it wasn't enough, he needed me to stroke the entire length, I realised that when his hips felt eager to slip back and forth into my fist. So I followed, swallowing the uneasiness of holding a man's girth in my hands for the first time.

Soon enough my wrist began to hurt, but thankfully he reached his climax. I couldn't help but smile at the grin that danced on his lips post the high, his eyes clearing of the dizzying lust.

I removed my hand from his pants, frowning at the sticky mess coating my skin. He looked at me sheepishly, satiated but guilty. I leaned over to kiss him on the lips, not liking the look on his face.

"I'll go and wash my hands. Then I'll help you clean up." I murmured, pulling away to get off the bed.

"It's okay, I'll clean my- Ugh!" He howled in pain, forgetting the cast on his fingers when he used the same hand to push his body into a sitting position. Falling back, he lifted the injured hand in the air.

I sighed feeling pity for my poor husband.

"Just rest for now. I'll clean you." I rubbed his shoulder gently, pressing a kiss of assurance on his forehead. He appeared doleful of his predicament.

"You don't need to-"

"Aditya," I said sternly.

"I didn't even help you get the same relief." He whispered under his breath. "I'm sorry for being such a task."

"Let me clean you up first. Then we'll talk." I said and got off, eager to wash my hands. When I came out of the bathroom, my stubborn husband was trying to clean himself up with the wet wipes, trying to hold up the waistband of his pants with his pinky, groaning whenever the strain felt on his injured fingers.

"Aditya, now you're doing this intentionally!" I stated, flinching him in surprise. Making my way over, I grabbed his wrist to stop him from causing himself any more discomfort. "Let me," I said, gripping the waistband of his pants to remove them.

"Priya, no," he resisted, wrapping his hand around my wrist. "Trust me you wouldn't want to clean it," he shook his head.

"You always clean me." I reminded him.

"Because you're beautiful, meri jaan." He said softly, a small smile forming on his lips.

I shied away from his gaze, still trying to get his pants off.

"Love, please, I'm not comfortable." He said. That stopped me at once. "Just get me a new pair of sweats and briefs, I'll manage the rest in the bathroom." He said and slid off the bed, walking past me inside the bathroom. I sighed in defeat.

Getting him a fresh pair of underwear and pants, I knocked on the bathroom door, waiting patiently as he took his time to open it. When he did, only his hand came out needily, fingers wiggling in demand for his clothes. I grabbed his hand, revelling in how soft it is to touch before bending over to kiss the pulse point on his wrist. I heard him chuckle as I placed the clothes in his hand. With a smile of my own, I retreated to the bed, sitting up in his wait.

He exited the bathroom a few minutes later, smiling up at the sight of me. I patted the space beside mine, beckoning him closer. He obliged, climbing the bed from his side and leaning against the headboard beside me. My head inclined to rest on his shoulder, hand reaching out to interlace his left one. His thumb began stroking the back of my palm.

"You're not a task," I stated.

He chuckled mirthlessly. "I am."

"Aditya-"

"Sometimes you must regret marrying a twenty-five-year-old immature young man," he muttered bitterly. "Don't you?"

"Never," I answered sincerely.

"It's okay, you can be honest." He mumbled. "I know I'm too much at some points. I act cold towards you for a month, but when you do the same, I get hurt and frustrated. I'm not as patient as you. I can't handle not talking to you, even though I know that's the consequences I've to bear for hurting you. I act on impulse when jealous or rejected. I throw a fit like a kid. If that's not being immature, then what is?" He sighed.

"I love the way you acknowledge your mistakes, not oversee or ignore them." I stroked his arm with my other hand. "That's the biggest sign of maturity." I kissed his shoulder. "I love your shoulders," I rested my head on them.

"You do?" I could hear the smile on his face.

I hummed in response.

"Why?"

"They are so big," I sat up straight, facing him as my hands extended to touch the endpoints of his shoulders. "Woah, look how wide they are." I pulled my hands away, keeping them at the same distance to show him.

His eyes shone in amusement.

"They make me feel safe," I dropped my hands smiling up at him.

"They do?"

I nodded earnestly. "Remember when I first rode the bus with you?"

He hummed.

"The people standing beside were shoving me constantly," I reminisced fondly. "But then you stepped in, placing your hands on either side of me, and I was completely surrounded by your body. Your shoulders roofed me protectively." My voice trimmed down to a whisper. "It- It reminded me of my father," I admitted softly, ignoring the tear that rolled down my cheek.

His face softened, his hand reaching out to brush my tears away. "You never talk about your parents. How were they?"

I felt a smile come upon my lips despite the heaviness weighing over my chest. "They were like any normal Indian parents." I nodded. "My mom was strict, but my father was so jolly. Just like your father." I said.

He reciprocated my smile.

"Every Saturday he used to go out to play basketball with his friends. Then the same evening I used to see mom massaging his shoulders. They were a perfect couple. They balanced each other so well. Preeti was a kid when they left, so she doesn't remember much about them. All her childhood, she only considered me her guardian. I feel guilty every time I look at her. It only reminds me of how I stole them from her, and during the time when she needed them the most. Because when are we running to our parents for every little thing if not our childhood?" I shrugged.

"You didn't steal them from her," he shook his head, looking at me disapprovingly.

"If I hadn't insisted on getting me that doll, they would have been alive now."

He sighed. "No, Priya, what happened, happened because that was fate. If not you, maybe some other reason would have caused that accident. You can't blame yourself for the unchangeable, my love, you can only accept it and move on."

I gulped the bubbling heaviness down my throat.

"You wanna know something?" He whispered to me.

I looked up inquisitively.

"If they were alive now, they would have been so proud of you."

"Would they?" I asked softly.

He hummed with a smile. "Your mother would have been like, oh my little Priya grew up so much," he cupped my face, his voice cooing at me. "She earns her own living, is now someone's wife, brightening his life with her light and shine. How well she did without me, I'm so proud of her."

My lips trembled at his words.

"And your father," he added, "he would have patted your back like this," he gently slapped my back twice, "and said, no wonder she is so successful at this young age. Whose girl is she after all?" He smiled at me proudly.

I chuckled through my tears.

"And then Preeti would have chimed in, with her adorable smile as she looked up at them, saying, Di never let me feel your emptiness. She was both. My mother as well as my father."

I burst into tears, flinging myself in his arms as it all came crashing down at once, unexpectedly like a shove into the depths of sorrow, reminding me of my losses and gains, of my ruins and renews, of how there was a time I felt completely alone and abandoned, yet tonight here I was, in the arms of the man I've fallen head over heels with, entrusting him with my forever and beyond.

I clung onto him like a sinking ship, trying to keep myself on the surface of life, for the depths were darker and unseen, and I was scared of exploring them alone.

He held me fiercely, reassuring me with his words, like whispers of winds blowing into my lungs, keeping me alive and breathing.

Time lapsed slowly, bringing the day to life. We lay on the bed, with me attached to his side, our legs tangled together. I traced unruly patterns on his bare chest as he mulled in his own thoughts. I raised my gaze by placing my chin on his chest, tickling his stubble which made him look at me.

"What are you thinking?"

He blinked slowly, shaking his head at me.

I reached forward to kiss him. He responded fervently, brushing away the mess of my hair to cup my cheek, his arms holding me together. Then he pulled away before I could get enough.

"We don't want the repeat of what happened earlier tonight, do we?" He tucked the wayward strands behind my ear.

I huffed, laying my cheek back over his chest

"What's your dream?"

"Mercedes," he answered almost immediately.

I lifted my head to look at him in surprise. He appeared embarrassed.

"Mercedes, as in the car?" I asked to confirm.

He didn't reply.

"Aditya, the car, right?"

He nodded sheepishly.

I chuckled. "That's so cute." I cupped his cheek fondly.

He rolled his eyes.

"Let's go buy it!" I stated, sitting up excitedly.

Aditya followed me but in shock. "What!?"

"Let's go buy it!" I bounced in my seat.

"Priya, I'm not talking about the toy car. I'm talking about the real thing. Like it runs on the road and needs petrol-"

"I know what car is, dummy!" I slapped his chest.

"You know how much it costs?"

"How much?" I deadpanned.

"The E-Class goes as far as 85 lacs," he breathed out shakily, as though he was repeating some forbidden mantra.

"That's nothing," I stated, even though my heart did clench a little hearing the price. It was the same when Preeti forced me to buy my current range rover. It cost me around seventy-two lacs. But I bought it anyway. I wanted to feel rich. You can say the new money got into my head.

"Priya, lacs," he repeat.

"I heard you well the first time." I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry. I can arrange the upfront amount in an hour. I just need to give Sheena a call-" I reached out to grab my phone from the nightstand.

"Priya," he held my wrist. "It's my dream. I want to earn it."

I sat back straight. "Tell me something," he nodded in response. "If you won the car in some competition or lucky draw-" he scoffed in disbelief. "Would you not accept it?" I continued anyway.

"Of course, I will. But something that happening to someone like me has a chance in minus. I'm unfortunate as fuck, you see." He pouted at me.

"And if your company gifted it to you?"

"That's also a very far-fetched thought. But yes, I'll accept it." He nodded.

"Then why not from me?" I asked.

He chuckled. "Priya, you're my wife. And you'll be using your hard-earned money to buy a four-wheeler that'll probably need ten thousand rupees servicing each month, along with the gas and maintenance charges held separately. Even if you buy it for me, I'm not capable enough to keep it."

I hated that he made a fair point.

"I can handle the-"

"Priya, no," he shook his head, his word holding the last weight.

I sighed in defeat, nodding in understanding.

"What's your savings now?"

He cleared his throat, turning his head to the other side. "Oh, look, the sun is up. Tweety must be coming anytime with the thought of breaking my sleep. Poor thing will be disappointed missing the chance to torment me today." He laughed.

"Aditya," I grabbed his thigh, demanding his attention back on me.

"Hmm?"

"What's your-"

"What's the time?" He glanced behind me at the wall clock. "Oh, it's, seven already. We've to get ready and start packing. Didn't you say we've to meet Sameer's family tonight? We have got an early morning flight tomorrow-" I pressed my lips against his, silencing the blabbermouth.

"That's a good way to say shut up." He nodded when I pulled away.

"Tell me your savings,"

He sighed. "It's embarrassing."

"At your age, it's even surprising to know you have savings. Trust me, you're admirable. Now tell me!"

His lips broke into an unintended smile. "Not much."

"Tell me the amount."

"Around eight lacs," he whispered.

I gasped in disbelief. "Honestly, I expected something in thousands," I whispered.

He looked at me offended.

"No, really, I would be shocked if Preeti's savings account had a three-digit number right now. She doesn't let the money stay in the bank account." I shook my head.

He chuckled. "It's not enough to buy a Mercedes though."

"But if you keep it up, one day it'll be enough to get you a Mercedes."

"I want to take up Masters in a few years, so probably no."

I was speechless for a moment. "Which university?"

"Probably CMU," he shrugged. "The acceptance rate is higher than any other in the states, and offers full rides for overseas students." He nodded, making my stomach drop.

"Carnegie Mellon University?"

He hummed. "But the external expenses are crazy high."

"When are you planning to apply?"

"Probably in four or five years." He nodded.

"You did not tell me about this before." I wondered aloud.

His eyes shifted, refocusing on me. "Matlab? (What do you mean?)"

"Matlab!?" I repeated incredulously. "Aditya, you're telling me your future plans! Our future plans. Par unme toh mein hoon hi nahi. Sirf aap ho! (But I'm not even in them. It's only you!)"

His face dropped, along with his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me about this before our marriage?"

He licked his lips, avoiding answering.

"Aditya, I'm asking you something!" I demanded.

"I didn't think it was important." He mumbled uneasily.

"You thought it won't be important!?" I scoffed. "Aditya, you're saying there's a certainty we'll be in a long-distance relationship sometime in the future and you thought it's not important to let me know about it!? And you're even bringing it up so casually as if it means nothing!?" I pushed myself away from him.

He looked up at me guiltily.

"For god's sake, say something!"

He stayed quiet.

I felt tears brim my eyes, even the thought of living a day where I'll have to wait months for him only to meet him for a brief moment sounds like a nightmare.

How can he be so casual about it?

"Maybe you're right," I said and he looked at me. "You're immature." I scoffed and got off the bed, ignoring his calls as I dashed inside the bathroom to hide my tears.

God, I was dying to bring this up since the time i mentioned about his plans to pursue masters. Glad it finally did.

Btw, we'll be ending this journey in ten or so chapters. There will be an epilogue. But the bonus chapters will be exclusive. I know it must disappoint many readers, but oh well, that's life. I like money just as much as I like the votes and comments. Also, it won't impact the plot or ending in any way, so rest assured, Wattpad readers, you won't be missing out on the important stuff.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.