Now the next chapter after this target is completed.

Today's target -
‼️1.5k votes & 300 comments on this chapter.‼️
(The next chapter is siddy Pov
*wink*)

_________________________________________

मैं रेत सी, बूँद का ज़रिया तू
पा के तुझे भीग जाऊँ री
तर जाऊँ तर तर जाऊँ
दरिया ये तर जाऊँ जी
इश्क़ ये पा के मैं तेरा
निखर जाऊँ री...

पिया बस तेरी मैं
हो.. छू ले तो ख़ारी मैं
तो ख़ारी मैं ख़ारी मैं...
सुन साथिया माहीया
बरसा दे इश्क़ की स्याहियाँ

I took a sip of the tea, trying to calm my racing thoughts. But the moment the taste hit my tongue, I froze. It was salty. My eyes widened as the realization dawned-I had added salt instead of sugar!

Panic coursed through me, and I quickly set the cup down, my hands trembling slightly. What have I done?

Adarsh words echoed in my mind - "hamesha ekdum perfect chai chahiye hoti hai. Agar thodi si bhi galat ho gayi, toh vo apna mood... ."

A lump formed in my throat. This marriage... it was already so delicate, like walking on a tightrope. I didn't know where we stood, what he thought of me, or even what I thought of him. And now this-what if he got angry? What if he thought I couldn't handle even the simplest tasks?

I clenched the edge of the table, my thoughts spiraling. The men from my village crossed my mind-those sharp-tongued, temperamental men who would scold their wives over something as small as a roti slightly burnt on the edges.

Would Sidharth ji be the same? He didn't seem like them, but his silence... his lack of expression... it made it so hard to tell.

No, he isn't like them. He can't be. I shook my head, trying to convince myself. But doubt lingered, its shadow heavy.

Before I could think further, Maa's voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Noor beta," she said from the doorway, her tone kind yet firm. "Dinner is almost ready. You should freshen up. We'll eat in a few minutes."

I jumped to my feet. "Ji, maa" My voice came out rushed and nervous. I hurried past her, heart pounding with both relief and embarrassment.

As soon as I stepped into the room, I glanced down at myself. My cotton suit, though comfortable, was wrinkled and slightly stained at the hem. A wave of embarrassment hit me. I've been walking around like this?

I'm a new bride!! I was supposed to be all ducked up.

Hey bhagwan!!

I quickly rummaged through my suitcase, my hands shaking as I searched for something suitable. After a few moments, I pulled out a light peach saree. It was soft and airy, with a thin silver border. Simple yet elegant-just what I needed.

I draped it over myself, adjusting the pleats carefully. My reflection in the mirror caught my eye. The saree brought out the warmth in my complexion, and the silver embroidery shimmered faintly under the light. I braided my hair to one side, letting a few strands fall loosely around my face.

This is better, I thought, though a hint of nervousness still lingered in my chest.

The aroma of spices greeted me as I walked downstairs. The kitchen was alive with movement-maids and cooks bustling about, their voices mixing with the clatter of utensils.

I peeked inside and saw a variety of dishes lined up on the counter: creamy paneer curry, spicy vegetable stir-fry, soft puris, and fragrant pulao and lauki My stomach grumbled, but I hesitated at the doorway.

One of the maids noticed me and smiled warmly. "Bahurani, sab ho gaya hai. Aap please baith jaiye. Hum khana la rahe hain."

("Bahurani, everything is ready. Please take a seat. We'll bring the food.")

I shook my head, stepping forward. "Nahi, main help kar deti hoon," I said softly.

("No, let me help.")

The head maid smiled kindly but shook her head. "Na na, aap na kare kuch. Aap baith jaiye. Hum sab hai na."

("No No, you don't do anything. Please sit down, we'll manage.")

I hesitated but eventually nodded. Still, I stayed for a moment, adjusting the trays on the counter, unable to just walk away. It feels strange... not doing anything.

Like any Indian typical girl, I was taught all the household works so I'll not face any problems in my In-laws. But here, it's different.

But eventually, I let myself be ushered out, my nerves now mingling with curiosity. My thoughts made my steps falter, but I forced myself to move forward, my saree swishing softly as I walked.

The hall was lively, filled with voices and laughter, but I barely paid attention. My hands moved automatically as I placed the dishes on the table, making sure everything was where it should be. My heart, though, felt heavy, still thinking about what had happened earlier.

I adjusted a plate, hoping to focus on the task instead of my swirling thoughts, when the atmosphere in the room shifted. The noise softened, almost like someone had turned the volume down. I paused, my fingers still on the edge of the plate, and glanced up.

Sidharth ji was walking down the stairs.

He looked...composed,Calm. Like nothing in the world could ruffle him. His white shirt was plain, but it fit perfectly, emphasizing his broad shoulders. The sleeves were rolled up, showing his strong arms, and his dark trousers made his frame look even taller. He wasn't wearing the glasses he had on earlier, and without them, his eyes seemed sharper, more intense.

I quickly looked away, feeling the heat creep up my neck. My earlier mistake with the tea still burned in my mind.

What must he think of me?

He walked to the head of the table and sat down quietly. The room, though still buzzing with conversation, felt a little different now-like his presence anchored everything.

The maids began serving food, moving from one person to the next. I watched for a moment, my hands resting against the table before a memory surfaced.

My mother has served my father,his meals every single day. She'd never let anyone else do it, no matter how tired she was. It was her way of showing care, and my father had always appreciated it.

The thought made me move. I stepped forward, gently taking a plate from the maid's hands before she could serve it. I didn't look at him for any permission, I just felt like doing this.

My heart pounded as I started adding rice, puri, and sabzi, trying not to think about what I was doing too much.

When I picked up the bowl of lauki ki sabzi, I hesitated. It wasn't a favorite for most people, but it was on the table. My hand moved on its own, placing a small portion on the plate.

(Pumpkin)

In the process of serving it, I heard my mother-in-law's voice.

Then her voice came again, softer but clearer. "Noor, Sidharth doesn't eat lauki."

I stilled, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. But before I could do anything, the spoon in my hand had already served lauki onto his plate.

I froze for a second, clutching the plate. My mother-in-law's tone was light, but I couldn't focus on her words. Instead, I glanced at Sidharth ji.

Hey bhagwan!!

I felt like disappearing on the spot. My gaze darted nervously between him and my mother-in-law, unsure of what to do.

But before she could say anything more, he spoke.

"It's fine," he said, his tone deep, steady, and calm. "I'll eat it today."

I looked up, startled, and met his eyes for a moment. They held no anger, no irritation-just quiet acceptance. My heart skipped a beat, not from shyness, but from the weight of the moment.

I placed the plate in front of him and stepped back quickly, my fingers twisting nervously. My mother-in-law said something else, but I barely heard it. All I could focus on was how he picked up his spoon and started eating, no hesitation, no complaint.

I sat back in my chair after serving him dinner, my fingers clutching the edge of the table. My heart was still beating a little too fast, the embarrassment from earlier refusing to fade.

The seat beside me belonged to Aakriti, Sidharth ji's younger sister, who was now married and visiting for her elder brother marriage. And beside her sat Adarsh.

I haven't seen Veer bhaiya after the wedding. I'll ask Maa about this.

As I tried to focus on the food in front of me, Askriti leaned close and whispered in my ear,

"Wow, bhabhi, you made bhaiya eat lauki. Ma hasn't managed that in years."

Her words startled me, and I glanced at her. She had a mischievous grin on her face, her eyes sparkling with amusement. A small giggle escaped her, and soon, Adarsh joined in, their laughter soft but contagious.

I couldn't help but smile at her, though my cheeks grew warmer. I felt shy and a little out of place, but Askriti's lightheartedness eased the tension in my chest.

For a moment, I looked up. Around the table, everyone seemed to have noticed the small exchange. There were smiles everywhere-some amused, some gentle. My gaze landed on Sidharth ji. He was eating quietly, unbothered, like nothing unusual had happened.

I quickly ducked my head, my face burning again. I wasn't sure what I was more embarrassed about-serving him, lauki, or everyone's reaction to it. I took a small bite of my food and focused on Aakriti's small talk. She whispered something else, but I only nodded, feeling my shyness pull me inward.

The dinner ended soon after, and as everyone began leaving the table, I helped Geeta, the maid, collect the plates. I picked up a few dishes and started toward the kitchen when Ma stopped me.

"Noor beta," she said gently, taking the plates from my hands, "go to your room. You don't need to do this."

I hesitated, unsure if I had done something wrong. "But Ma, I was just-"

She smiled, interrupting me softly. "You're the daughter-in-law of this house, Noor. You're not meant for this kind of work anymore. You should hold your grace, your place. That's your power here."

Her words were kind, but they left me unsettled. Daughter-in-law. Grace. Power. I wasn't sure what any of it meant for me yet. But I still nodded at her.

As I walked toward my room, the differences between my life here and in the village pressed down on me. Back home, I had grown up doing everything-serving meals, working around the house. But here, everything was different. A daughter-in-law wasn't supposed to do these things. How was I supposed to adapt so quickly?

I stopped outside the door to our room, my thoughts swirling. What if he's inside? What would I even say if he was? My hand rested on the doorknob for a second before I pushed it open.

What if he'll scold me for the tea?

By tea I remembered, what he did with it? I'm sure he wouldn't have drunk that. Must have thrown it away while thinking of me as a good for nothing wife.

The room was quiet, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound. My heart jumped when I saw him.

Sidharth ji was there, half-laying, half-sitting against the headboard of the bed, his phone in his hand. His legs were stretched out, one slightly bent, and he looked calm-too calm for how unsettled I felt.

He didn't even glance at me. Again

I stood there for a moment, frozen, before quickly stepping to the wardrobe. My hands moved fast as I grabbed my nightclothes, and without looking in his direction, I hurried into the bathroom.

The moment I closed the door behind me, I exhaled, my face burning again. Everything from the day rushed back-the tea, the lauki, Maa's words, and now, him.

I leaned against the door for a second, trying to steady myself. Why did this house, this marriage, feel so heavy?

I closed my eyes and leaned against the cool bathroom door, taking a deep breath. It's okay, Noor, I told myself. This is just the beginning. Everything feels strange at first. My fingers brushed against the fabric of my nightclothes, and I let the thought linger for a moment longer.

I moved to the sink and splashed cold water on my face, letting the chill chase away the heaviness in my chest. Droplets clung to my skin as I opened my hair, combing through the strands with quick, nervous strokes.

My reflection in the mirror looked back at me-a girl trying to adjust, to belong. I smoothed moisturizer onto my cheeks, letting the routine calm me, and finished by tying my hair loosely.

With a deep breath, I stepped out of the bathroom.

The room felt colder now, quieter, and Siddharth ji's presence was impossible to ignore. He was still on the bed, his back against the headboard, his phone now resting on the nightstand. I stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. My eyes darted to the sofa where my cherry ~ My pillow was resting.

I couldn't help but think about our wedding night. He hadn't said much then-hadn't guided me or reassured me. He'd simply gone to bed, leaving me to figure out what was expected of me. The memory made my chest tighten, but I shook it off.

It's fine, Noor. You'll get through this, I reminded myself.

I walked over to the sofa, picked up the pillow, and sat down. The soft fabric beneath me was a small comfort, but the air in the room still felt heavy.

"Noor."

His deep voice broke through my thoughts, making me look up. Sidharth Ji was watching me now, his phone set aside. His gaze was steady, his presence filling the room like it always did.

"Come and sleep on the bed." he said, his voice calm but firm, "Please,"

He looked at the empty side beside him, a small gesture that somehow felt larger than it should have.

I froze for a second, unsure of what to say. The idea of sharing the bed with him still felt... strange. We have shared beds, back at my home, but here it feels different. I lowered my gaze, shaking my head slightly.

"It's fine, ji. I'm comfortable here."

"Noor," he said again, his tone softening but carrying weight. "Please. I insist."

Something in his voice left no room for argument. Hesitantly, I nodded and stood up, clutching my Cherry to my chest as if it were a shield. My feet felt heavy as I moved to the bed and sat down on the edge.

As I settled, he shifted slightly, watching me again. "I hope you don't prefer any side," he said, his voice lighter this time, almost teasing.

"Yahaan bhi dono sides mein comfortable ho jaise wahan thi?"

("Here too, make it comfortable on both sides, just like it was there?")

I blinked at him, startled by his words. A blush coated by cheeks at his statement. Jhalli.

His tone was calm, but it carried a hint of authority that left me unsure of how to respond. "Ji... Ji, I'm fine. Both sides are fine," I stammered.

He nodded once, satisfied, and leaned back against the headboard. His presence felt larger than life, filling every corner of the room without effort.

I lay down carefully on my side of the bed, my body stiff as I tried to keep as much distance as possible. The light switched off, plunging the room into darkness.

My mind refused to quiet down. The events of the day played on a loop-the tea, the lauki, the awkwardness at dinner. I turned my face toward the pillow, wishing I could erase my mistakes, wishing I could apologize to him properly.

Maybe tomorrow will be better, I thought. Maybe I'll do something right.

I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling. The faint patterns on the white plaster seemed to shift and blur as my thoughts churned. The room was quiet now, the kind of quiet that made every small sound feel loud-the soft rustle of the curtains in the breeze, the occasional creak of the bed. Outside, the night whispered, the cool wind brushing against the windowpane.

I swallowed hard. The silence wasn't comforting; it was itching, scraping against my nerves. Say something, Noor, my mind urged, but my lips remained pressed together.

Minutes passed, or maybe hours-I couldn't tell. Finally, I drew in a shaky breath and turned my head slightly, my voice timid.

"Sidharth ji?"

"Hmm,"

He didn't respond immediately, but the faint hum he gave was enough to make my heart race.

"I... I wanted to say sorry," I began, my voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy in my mouth, but I forced them out.

"Woh chai ke liye... I'm really sorry. "

(For the tea)

He didn't say anything, and the silence stretched thin. Embarrassment prickled at my skin, but I pressed on, my words tumbling over each other.

"Main samajh nahi paayi kaise ho gaya. Maine kabhi aise galti nahi ki. Main actually achhi cook hoon. Please, aap bura mat maaniyega. Main-"

(I don't know how it happened. I've never made such a mistake before. I'm actually a good cook. Please don't mind. I-)

I stopped mid-sentence, realizing how ridiculous I sounded. My gaze dropped to my hands, which were nervously fidgeting with the edge of the sheet.

Suddenly, there was movement beside me. I glanced sideways, startled, as Sidharth ji shifted. He propped himself up on one elbow, his body turning slightly toward me.

The dim light from the window cast shadows on his face, and I couldn't make out his expression, but his gaze was steady, fixed on me.

"You talk too much," he muttered under his breath, which I heard.

My mouth opened, but no words came out. My embarrassment deepened, but before I could stammer out another apology, he added,

"It's okay. It happens sometimes. Galtiyan hoti hain."

(Mistakes happen.)

I nodded quickly, but the words tumbled out again before I could stop them.

"Nahi, lekin-main aage se better karungi. Main ensure karungi ki agli baar aisa na ho. Please aap-"

(No, but-I'll do better next time. I'll make sure this doesn't happen again. Please, you-)

"It's okay," he interrupted, his tone softening further, almost amused.

"Agli baar achha banega. "

(It'll be better next time.)

His words caught me off guard. For a moment, I just stared at the outline of his face, my cheeks warming as his calm yet teasing tone registered. I quickly looked away, nodding in a flustered manner.

"Ji," I mumbled, my voice barely audible.

He lay back down without another word, and I did the same, clutching my cherry-shaped pillow close to my chest. My heart was still beating faster than it should have been, and my thoughts raced as I stared at the ceiling again.

I turned on my side, clutching my cherry close to my chest, my face half-buried in it.

Maine sach mein unse baat ki thi. Our first talk.

The thought replayed in my mind, making my cheeks heat up again. His voice echoed faintly in my ears, deep and steady, as if it had wrapped itself around me.

We talked??!!!! I thought, biting my lip. I couldn't believe it. I had spoken. I had answered him. Me.

Pata nahi hum me itni himmat kahan se aa gayi.... It felt so strange, but also... nice. A warmth that wasn't just from embarrassment lingered in my chest.

The room grew quieter, his soft breathing filling the silence. Slowly, my nerves began to settle, and my lips curved into a faint, embarrassed smile.

He isn't so distant after all, I thought, my eyelids growing heavier. My smile is still the same while cheeks burning hot.

As sleep pulled me under, I heard his steady breathing, a comforting rhythm in the stillness of the night.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The first thing I felt was warmth. Soft, steady warmth that seemed to cocoon me, pulling me back from the edge of waking. But then my awareness sharpened, and I froze.

Something heavy rested across my waist, solid and firm, while something else-a leg-was tangled with mine. My eyes flew open, heart racing.

I blinked into the dim light filtering through the curtains, and it took me a moment to understand. Sidharth ji's arm. His arm was inside my kurti, his hand resting gently against my bare stomach.

The morning light spilled softly into the room, casting shadows across the walls, but I couldn't focus on anything except the weight of his arm and the rise and fall of his chest, steady and calm.

"Hay Bhagwan!" I whispered under my breath, my heart thundering in my chest. I glanced at his face, half-hidden in the crook of his arm. His eyes were closed, his features relaxed, oblivious to the storm raging inside me.

My cheeks burned. Kya karoon? Should I wake him up? Should I move? My mind raced, but my body felt paralyzed.

After a moment, I dared to shift slightly, trying to ease his arm off me without waking him. His hand slid a little, brushing against my skin as I moved it away, and I bit my lip to stop the tiny gasp that threatened to escape. Can I just disappear under the rock?

His leg was next. I carefully untangled it, trying not to disturb him. But every small movement made my heart beat faster. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I managed to sit up, clutching the blanket to my chest as if it could somehow shield me from my own embarrassment.

My cheeks burned as I tried to process the situation. Shyness and awkwardness collided within me, leaving me frozen for a moment. But then I saw it. My cherry is lying helplessly on the floor beside the bed.

Roj wahaan kaise pahunch jaate ho tum?

("How do you manage to reach there every day?")

I thought, my lips curling into a small, exasperated smile. Carefully, I got up from the bed, every movement slow and deliberate, as if I were sneaking away from some forbidden act.

Finally, I sat up, clutched the pillow tightly around myself, and reached for the pillow. "Tum bhi na," I whispered to it softly before standing and padding toward the bathroom.

Inside, I locked the door behind me and let out a shaky breath. Leaning against the sink, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My hair was an untamed mess, and my cheeks were a deep shade of pink.

Beta Noor, kya haal bana rakha hai?

I shook my head at myself and reached for the shower. The cool water cascading over my skin was refreshing, washing away my embarrassment and filling me with a newfound sense of calm.

By the time I stepped out in the room again, I felt renewed, a lightness in my chest. Wrapping my saree around me, I focused on each pleat with precision, ensuring it fell gracefully over my shoulder. It was a light green saree with delicate gold embroidery, the kind that shimmered subtly in the light.

As I worked to secure the pallu, my eyes flicked toward the bed.

He was still there, lying on his side now, his face partially hidden by the pillow. His expression was unreadable, but the slow, steady rhythm of his breathing told me he was still asleep. My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly turned my attention back to the saree, wrapping it properly around my waist.

With a little more confidence, I went to the dresser and began getting ready. I smoothed out the edges of the saree, adjusted the pleats, and reached for my jewelry.

The small golden bangles jingled softly as I slid them onto my wrists. I picked a pair of matching earrings and clasped them on. Next came the bindi-tiny and red, sitting perfectly on my forehead, adding a pop of color to my face.

I loved this part of the morning, the ritual of dressing up. It made me feel... alive." Beautiful.

The bindi sat perfectly on my forehead, framed by the loose tendrils of hair I had left out after combing the rest neatly into place. The soft clink of my bangles filled the room as I adjusted them one last time, taking a step back to glance at myself in the mirror.

The green saree wrapped gracefully around me, the delicate gold embroidery catching the morning light. My Payal jingled softly with each movement, and I couldn't help but smile.

There was a quiet joy in getting ready, in adorning myself with the little things that made me feel... me.

But then, that feeling washed over me.

The undeniable sensation of being watched.

I stilled, my fingers frozen mid-air as they hovered over the mangalsutra I had just tied. Slowly, I turned toward the bed, my heart racing slightly.

Siddharth ji was still there, lying on his side.

But his face, which had been turned away when I last checked, was now facing me.

I felt my cheeks heat up instantly. Was he watching me? My mind raced, filling with ridiculous thoughts before I shook my head firmly.

He was asleep, his breathing steady, his expression calm.

Pagal ladki, I scolded myself silently, shaking my head. But the blush didn't leave my cheeks.

As I moved toward the door, my Payal jingled again, the delicate sound filling the quiet room. It made me pause, and my lips curved into a shy smile.

He gave me these.

The memory was sudden and vivid, flashing in my mind like a scene from a movie. His quiet gesture, the way he had handed it to me without a word, and how he hadn't looked at me directly afterward.

My heart fluttered, and I bit my lip to keep from grinning too wide.

Bas karo, Noor. Let's make breakfast now, I reminded myself, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear before walking to the door.

But just as I reached it, I stopped.

My gaze drifted back toward the wardrobe, and I hesitated. Should I?

Taking a deep breath, I turned back and opened it. My hands instinctively moved through the neatly hung clothes, selecting a crisp white shirt and a pair of grey trousers. They felt appropriate for the day-a simple, professional look that suited him perfectly.

As I held them in my hands, I remembered my mother.

She used to do this for Baba every morning, picking out his clothes and laying them neatly on the bed. I had always admired how much care she put into even the smallest gestures. Aur woh hamesha pehnte bhi the, I thought with a bittersweet smile.

But Sidharth ji isn't like Papa.

I had tried this before, leaving clothes out for him, only to find him wearing something entirely different later. He hadn't said anything, but I had taken the hint.

Still, I found myself determined.

Toh kya hua agar pehle nahi pehna? Main phir se karungi.

("So what if I didn't wear it before? I'll do it again.")

Carefully, I folded the shirt and trousers and placed them at the edge of the bed, hoping he might notice them when he woke up. My heart whispered a silent prayer as I stood there for a moment, looking at him one last time.

Let's be hopeful.

Gathering my resolve, I turned away and walked out of the room, my Payal jingling softly with each step.

Downstairs, the house was quiet, the kind of peaceful silence that made me feel like I had all the time in the world to prepare breakfast. I smiled to myself as I tied my pallu securely, ready to start the day.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I stepped into the kitchen, the scent of freshly ground masalas greeting me as I adjusted the pallu of my saree. Ma saas, who was already setting up the dining table, turned to me with a kind smile.

"Namaste, Ma," I greeted softly, lowering myself to touch her feet. She blessed me, her hand lightly brushing my head. "Sada suhagan raho."

She left shortly after, instructing me to check on the breakfast menu for the day. I took a quick look at the items on the counter-flour for parathas, freshly chopped vegetables, and a bowl of soaked lentils.

I busied myself rolling the dough, my thoughts still lingering on the morning scene. I shook my head & focused on cooking, I love cooking. Out of all household work I have learned, cooking is something I love from my heart.

The sound of hurried footsteps broke my focus. I peeked out from the kitchen, curious. Ma's voice echoed in the hallway as Sidharth ji came downstairs, phone in hand.

"Beta, naashta karke jaa!" she called out.

(Son, go after having breakfast)

"No, Ma, it's urgent," he replied, his tone brisk as he adjusted his watch while heading towards the door.

I leaned slightly out of the kitchen doorway, catching sight of him just as he passed by. My eyes instinctively darted to his shirt-a crisp blue one paired with dark trousers. A pang of something unfamiliar gripped me, but I shook it off.

He wasn't wearing the clothes. I took out for him.

_____________________________________

How was it? They talked?!!

Thoughts about Sidharth? Noor?

He broke her heart once again.

Any favorite moments from the chapter? Do comment!

So, if you're curious to read further, the next 5 chapters are already up on ScrollStack! All you need to do is follow me there, and you'll always be a few chapters ahead as I have planned that this book will be 5 chapters ahead on scrollstack than on wattpad.

╰┈➤Follow me on Instagram & scrollstack for spolier and early updates