Typed: 11/12/2023
Chapter 13: Honeymoon

Author's POV:

They'd arrived on time. Khushi would say it was the perfect timing because the mountain looked unreal. Her face was plastered in a sunny smile, mouth wide open in admiration. "Yug," his name stretched on her lips as she ogled at the mountains.

Besides her sat her husband. He was on his phone, messaging his brother to let him know they'd reached. He scanned her face before scanning the surroundings. The right side of her face lit up in joy at the sight of the mountains. It was as if the excitement had shifted-transcendences from her to him. So much that he's bewitched at the sight. The sight of his wife's bright face.

The mountains, under this rainy and frosty weather, were like a bold statement of the slowness of the time. Statement of the reality of the moment, a moment or many moments that are every-lasting in our memories but never in time. As he watched his wife keenly in anticipation to see more thrill in her face, Yug thought the mountain was like a clock. A natural ticking clock for us humans because every time it melts-whenever it melts-it reminds us that we've moved on. It's no longer the same day.

He rolled his window down, peering and absorbing the essence of the mountain, inhaling it as if to purify his soul and reunite it with nothing but positivity. His cold breath mixes in the air, disappearing like fluid, as if to confirm that his soul has been purified.

"It's a beautiful place, isn't it?" He invites her opinion. Her validation. Verbally. Yug was not going to settle for another nod. Nods that Khushi excelled in.

If it was possible, there was colour to his tone. Maybe for the first time too. The colour that had a vast amount of gist-heart. So much that it compelled Khushi to turn her eyes to him. She stared at his relaxed posture, looking out the window, lost in the beauty of the mountains and nature.

Though the weather was the opposite of sunny, the warm rays of the sun had consumed her body, with a feeling of peace, grace and earthy-connected to their roots. Though she felt the heat of the rays, it was Yug whose skin dappled in light, in the ever-morphing serenity of browns.

"It is." The mountains? She's not talking about the mountains but her husband. "Very very beautiful." Her husband was pleased with her conclusion. With her verdict. He, unexpectedly, patted her right knee, gesturing for her to get out of the car.

~

It was already six in the evening when they'd settled into their hotel room. It wasn't a lavish five-star type of hotel but a small cosy one, with a maximum of ten rooms. It was well kept and gave the feeling of home as if all the tourist hadn't ever left their house. Not only comfort but it was surrounded by nature.

"How'd you find this place?" His wife asked him, focusing her eyes on his from the mirror. Behind her, Yug was settling himself in the bed, hiding away in the blanket, just about to grab the phone to order food when he looked at her. He too, fixed his eyes on her. Khushi was wearing a maroon woollen sweater, paired with warm leggings to keep herself warm. The colour was the right pick on her he thought because it complemented her skin.

"Google?" His eyebrows arched, and a smirk-the same smirk she witnessed for the first time-made its way on his face.

Khushi rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. The good kind of disbelief. "Tell me."

"I thought it was a nice area." Her husband had said it in a matter-of-fact tone. Nothing harsh but he wasn't being truthful.

Yug chose this place because there was one thing he picked up about Khushi during their courting period; she was simple. She had the simplicity that he always seeks-craves to find in every piece of artwork he's ever seen or crafted. Although he doesn't see much proper artwork because his company primarily designs lavish and extremely expensive furniture and décor, he still knows the value of art when he sees one.

Yug always craved to find a story in even a simple artwork but he couldn't. He found himself drawn to heavy and complex pieces, perhaps because they could be deceiving in a sense. Deceiving because every individual had different interpretations, which meant, that what wouldn't sell to one customer would sell to the other.

He failed to appreciate the simple art because he never understood it. He couldn't paint a picture, whilst his wife could. With every phone call and every message they sent back and forth, he realised Khushi was a simple person. She didn't need a pricey gift to be happy; acceptance and simplicity were enough for her.

And that's why. That's why Yug Verma chose this hotel to spend his honeymoon in. Especially because he figured because of the Goa trip and getting to know her, that Khushi couldn't easily interact with people. She was an introvert. A hotel with just ten rooms? Best option.

She got up and turned around, staring out the window. She shrugged her shoulders feeling content, "you're right. It is. It's a lovely area."

Had they arrived earlier, they could have gone out today and explored the place, but they didn't. So today was to be spent inside their medium-sized bedroom. And they did that. They had dinner. They spoke. To her surprise, he asked her questions related to conversations they had before they got married. Conversations that were left incomplete because of work. He'd picked it up from where they left it.

She tried bringing the topic up about them. The wedding. That she wasn't aware but before she could say anything further, he'd cut her, saying, "I don't care." Yug wasn't the kind to stay in the past and mourn over it. He lives in the present and wishes his wife to, too.

It was after dinner when they were in bed when Yug asked Khushi to pick a movie to play. She chose 'Hum Saath - Saath Hain.' He was a bit surprised and he couldn't muster the energy to cover it. He expected something recent or romantic, not something so old. He played the movie, regardless.

Khushi was sitting in the middle of the bed, legs folded, face rested on her right hand, elbow on her knees. She was comfortable, to say the least. Yug, however, was scratching his neck. She was seated so far. He was all the way behind her, back resting on the bedframe.

"Khushi move back."

"Hmmm," she hummed, invested in the movie, though she's seen it over ten times.

Yug brought the blanket closer to him, keeping himself warm under the weather. He watched her seated still, not moving even an inch. She wasn't blocking his way but he couldn't understand why she was seated so far. Khushi was, indeed, sitting away from him but it wasn't intentional. She's accustomed to sitting this way every time she watches a movie. However, Yug is making several changes for her-for them-he expected the same. So he does what he does best, he takes control.

Out of nowhere, his right hand comes in front of her. In front of her stomach and his left hand on the back of her waist, he pulls his wife back, positioning her beside him. She's still in shock at the movement, eyes wide open, watching his face. Oblivious, Yug covers her legs with the blanket and smooths it down too. "Good," he nods to himself, happy with his decision. When he looks up, he asks, "what?"

Yug's touched her before, of course. They've been married for four days. They've shared the same bed for two nights-tonight would be the third-so occasionally, his hand would be around hers. And he's touched her cheek that day but he's never done something big.

She didn't mind. That was a shock too. Nor was she alert when she felt his hand on her, moving her back. Khushi didn't react negatively or try to move away. She didn't mind at all. Her brain felt safe and secure with him. Her heart always did but it was her brain that usually warned her, so this was big.

She only shook her head. "Are you cold?" She spoke when she was sure her voice was confident enough to speak once again.

He shrugged, "I wanted you beside me," he positioned her so her body was staring at the TV. "Let's continue watching the movie." So they did but his hand-his left hand stayed on her waist, bringing her closer every time and any time he felt Khushi was moving the slightest.

An hour into the movie, Yug had already dosed off. His head rested on her right shoulder, softly breathing and his free hand-his right hand was placed on Khushi's right hand over the blanket. Everything about his posture-everything about him-was in close contact with Khushi. His legs too found their way, untangling her folded ones, forcing her to intertwine with his. It was such a smooth action that Khushi didn't realise until his head felt heavy on her.

"Yug," she whispered lightly into his hair, placing a small peck. His hair was as dark as the night and when her lips made contact with them, she felt her heart flutter. She's the only person in her life who is exclusively hers. And it felt nice. Nice to have someone she could have all to herself. Her heart told her, as it started beating quickly, it told her something special. It told her that she should row any and every enormous ocean if he asked her to. If he called for her. She'd row her way to him, just to meet him. That's how much he meant to her. He meant so much because Khushi was petrified of the ocean. Of getting close to it.

Her soul eased into relaxation. So much that she felt herself dosing off, so to keep herself awake, Khushi gently placed his head on the pillow, brushing his hair back. She placed both of his hands on his stomach, covering him with the blanket.

The rich caramels-like the deep soils of the earth-were not looking at her. They were resting. His eyes were out of view but Khushi could already imagine how they'd look. So beautiful. So sun-loved and honey-kissed. So him. So earthy. Like him because he was so grounded while she was like the depth of the ocean. Endless.

She did what she'd never initiate. Not in the initiate stages though. She kissed his temple and quickly wiped it off as if it lingered there for too long, he'd wake up. Then her eyebrows turned, par yeh mera husband hai. (But he is my husband).

If Neha was here, she'd laugh at Khushi's thought process. So she kissed away the creases on his temple, wiping away any worry or nightmare he may be facing right now with her kiss. There was something too sweet and alluring about appreciating him quietly as if everything she'd ever wanted to say-all her thoughts-were condensed into one kiss.

~

"You like milk, don't you?" He'd gritted his teeth. There was something eerie about Samar. His face-his expressions never matched his words. It's like they had their own tune.

To others, they'd say Samar was a loving husband, casually, with a smile asking his eighteen-year-old wife if she liked milk or not. But Khushi knew him beyond his flaky words. His ghostly smile, the unearthly look in her eyes and the raspy tone alerted her.

Standing beside him, Khushi stuttered, replying with a small ' no.' Samar doesn't look pleased with her reply. He creeps into her eyes, "really? I thought you said you loved drinking milk before going to bed. No?" When he'd said the last word, he screamed it. On her face. Khushi moved back instantly, furiously crying.

"I don't like milk." She did but not anymore. She was scared of him. She felt locked inside the house. Caged like a bird.

She's crying with each and every word. Instead of giving her a break, Samar gets up. In his hand, he's got the boiling pan that Khushi uses to boil milk or make tea. He grips onto the handle, bringing it threateningly close to her trembling body. With each step, Khushi pushes herself back. She stumbles onto something but continues moving back, "I'm sorry." She whispers to him. "I'm sorry." Thought, sincere apology, Khushi's not sure what she's saying sorry for this time.

"It's okay, it's okay," but it's not. His eyes are as scary as a lion before he bites into his prey's flesh. "Just have milk, it'll help you rest." The milk had been boiled-just now. It came out of the burning stove and he wants her to drink it in one go. Straight out of the pan.

"Please," she folds her hands, begging for forgiveness but Samar glares, burning the back of her arm with the pan. Khushi lets out a tight scream, her body trembling from the burn but she can't even move back, her back's already touching the wall. She's trapped.

"KHUSHI." He raised his voice, measured but petrifying enough for Khushi to wince. She was preparing herself for the worst. He didn't give her the opportunity to fight back or talk, he pushed the hot pan into her mouth.

Her lips burnt from the contact, with blood oozing out as if she'd been cut. She screamed into the pan as he aggressively shoved it more into her mouth. The metal clinked with her teeth, almost breaking and/or chipping it off. The milk fell half in her mouth, making her gag from the force and chock and the other on her bare feet.

When the milk had all spilt out of her mouth and she coughed it out, he pushed her further back, his hard hand on her right hand, gripping. He'd gripped so hard that she felt it in her bones and screamed. The other hand? The left one, Samar had pushed the hot pant into it, keeping her in place, all caged up. Like a pretty bird.

"Next time I see you speaking to a man-I don't care if it's Rohan-it'll be worse." All this for speaking-smiling with her best friend, Rohan.

~

Her body felt half paralyzed and half in control as Khushi jumped up. She was so quick, so jolty that Yug had woken up beside her. He turned the side table lamp on and took in her state. Khushi's hair was wet from sweat, her forehead was marked with straight and horrified lines. Her eyes frantically looked around, as if trying to find an intruder.

"Khushi," at the whisper, she moved away from him, still sitting on the bed. She went into a corner, sheltering herself from him. "I-Khu-" he paused, unsure. He reached out to touch her hand but she moved further back, hugging her body, silently crying.

There was something awful about her cries at this moment. Awful because if you weren't paying attention you'd miss it. You'd miss her tears. They had to be noticed. As they rolled down, Yug panicked. He calls for her name again but she only shudders. So he tries again, "sweetheart."

She looked and didn't move away. It's as if she was lost in a trace for so long. In a loophole and her name wasn't the spell to break it. Something else was. So she listens. Her teary eyes lift, "Yug?"

He nods, gently tapping at the empty position beside him where she originally laid, gesturing her to come back to bed. "Come here, it's okay. It was a bad dream. We all have them." His voice was the bandage to her breaking heart.

When she was sure it was Yug, she jumped into his arm, clutching onto him like her life depended on it. Her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him painfully close, her legs wrapped around his waist, resting in position.

As if second nature, Yug grabs a hold of her too, gently rubbing her back, saying sweet things. He was like that for thirty minutes, just listening to her shiver and cry. Thirty minutes later when he suggested-offered to put her back in bed and hold her close, she rejected, afraid.

"You want to sleep like this?" He wanted confirmation. Her legs still wrapped around his waist as he stayed seated on the bed, her hands around his neck, though slightly making their way to his hair. She nodded, afraid her voice would break. "Okay," came his inaudible mutter.

It had been thirty minutes and she still couldn't sleep so he had to do something. So Yug did what he does best, think fast but react even faster. He got up with his wife still in his arms and started slowly walking around the room, hand rubbing her back. "When I was litt-" and he did that all night-walking around the room with her in his arms, telling her stories, some real, some made-up just to distract her. Distract her until she fell asleep again, only this time, in his arms. In Yug's arms.

The Unwanted Bride

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