"Wait......I'll bring something for you to have..." said Viraj after stopping the car in front of a dhaba.
"But, I need to use washroom." said Aarvi in a weak voice.
"Washroom?.......can't you wait for sometime?"
"Didn't you say, it will take four hours to reach?....."
"OK....come" Viraj got out of the car.
He gave her his right hand to hold but she totally ignored and came out by herself.
"I'm feeling ok now...." she walked past him.
He nodded no and followed her.
He looked up and saw the name plate of the dhaba and understood it's a Punjabi one. He further looked around and found only men were sitting, chit-chatting and having dinner, inside the dhaba.
Looking at them something crossed his mind, he held her waist and turned her towards him but with utmost care.
Aarvi frowned, looking at his hands.
He took her dupatta and hide her face entirely.
"What are you doing?.....I'm not able to see anything."
"Just hold my hand and walk." he held her wrist gently and started walking towards the dhaba.
"What does he think of himself...bossing me around all the time." thought Aarvi while putting small steps towards the dhaba carefully.
"What would you like to have Sir?..." a teenage boy came and asked them.
"Do you have milk?"
"Milk?....he takes milk for dinner" Aarvi thought.
"Yes, we have sir."
"OK, one glass of milk and....some chapatis....with whatever you have."
"OK sir....you both can sit there." he pointed and was about to go but Aarvi asked him while removing the dupatta from her face.
"Excuse me...Is there any washroom?
"Ladies washroom....." Viraj elaborated.
"It's there ma'am." the boy said while pointing at the washroom.
"Thank you...."
The boy nodded and went from there.
"Why are you coming with me?..I'm going to the washroom." Aarvi said unbelievably.
"I'll wait outside."
"This is too much Viraj." she didn't argue more cause she needed to use the washroom right away.
After two minutes she came out.
Viraj again tried to hide her face but she stopped him holding his hand.
"It's suffocating me." Aarvi said irritatingly.
"Alright....." he entwined his fingers with hers.
"Just don't leave my hand....ok."
Aarvi rolled her eyes.
They went and sat on the chair. Viraj sat beside her not leaving her right hand.
He left her hand when the boy came with the dishes. After putting the dishes on the table, he went off.
Aarvi started eating immediately, she was hell hungry. Viraj smiled looking at her.
It took them nearly ten minutes to finish. Viraj put the milk glass in front of her.
"Have it....it will give you strength." he said.
"I can't eat anymore......"
"Have it, he wants you to fit for the night." one middle aged woman uttered while smiling, standing in front of them.
Aarvi frowned looking at the woman whereas Viraj chuckled understanding what she meant.
"Happy married life." the woman congratulated them.
Ohh....I'm wearing this outfit..that's why she's thinking we got married. Aarvi understood her.
"Thank you...." Viraj thanked the woman faking a blush.
Aarvi looked at him unbelievably while nodding no.
"I'm the owner of this dhaba." the woman said.
"Oh....." Viraj nodded.
"Today is my daughter's birthday, so we're providing free meal tonight."
"Oh...Happy birthday to her....." Viraj wished.
"Thank you....you don't have to pay the bill....."
"Ok, thank you aunty.....the food was really amazing." Viraj said.
The woman smiled and went off.
Viraj took the glass and finished it immediately.
"Let's go wifey....." Viraj said while getting up.
Aarvi got up signing.
They both sat in the car and drove off.
A new life is waiting for them.
......................................................................
Can you guys guess where they are going?
HINT : Hill Station near Delhi.
Let me know in the comment section.
Stay safe and keep smiling ☺.
Moumita
YOU ARE READING
HER EX HUSBAND
Romance"How dare you to kidnap me?" she shouted at the top of her lungs. "I have the rights....." he said while tightening the grip on her hand. Aarvi Rathod got kidnapped on her engagement ceremony by Viraj Thakur who was none other than her ex husband...
