MISUNDERSTOOD - an Arylie Story

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Aryan and Imlie were returning back home in the car.

While Imlie looked eager to talk, she still couldn't find the right words to begin any conversation.

She kept wondering how she could've messed up her article in such a manner—could she be getting too comfortable? Was she slacking because of college? Or had her disagreement with Aryan taken a toll on her to this extent?

She sighed. She had no answers to any of her questions.

Aryan, on the other hand, had been quietly observing her from the corner of his eye. He knew his wife enough to know that something had bothered her a lot for her work to not be up to the mark.

He so wanted to embrace her and tell her it was going to be all right, but something kept holding him back.

When he heard her sigh, he finally stopped the car to the side.

Turning to her, he softly spoke: "Imlie, I know what happened today has been bothering you...but I also know that you will learn from this and be better at the next task handed to you. I don't want this to bring you down, but allow you to further..."

At this, Imlie started to tear up. She missed his encouraging voice, his support, his quiet strength...she jumped over from her seat and hugged him tightly.

Aryan was taken aback by the force but understood how much she needed this.

He put one hand on her waist and the other on her head, while trying to calm her down. They were in a quiet embrace for a long time—trying to draw support from one another.

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It was late in the night but Imlie was still busy with her laptop. She knew she had a big opportunity with the Interview and she did not want to disappoint Aryan any further.

She kept stealing glances at Aryan who was sitting on the bed with his phone.

While they had hugged a while back, they still had not talked about the main issue which had bothered them days back.

It was something that Imlie really wanted to discuss and not leave it as a sword hanging in the air, but she knew the name 'Aditya' had only created problems —and she couldn't bear any more disagreements between them for now.

She decided to focus on her work and approach this matter after the interview specifically.

Aryan, on the other hand, was very busy pretending to be surfing something on his phone...but in reality was longing for someone.

That someone was sitting right across him, engrossed in certain work.

He kept staring at her and then, when he felt that she was about to lift her head, he would glance back at his phone.

He really couldn't understand what they both were doing?

He knew very well they both needed to talk and not leave these unsaid things as a barrier between them.

But re-living those topics only brought him more hurt and pain...pain which had always allowed him to seek revenge. Revenge for his Jiju.

He never wanted Imlie to get involved but he also knew very well that she wouldn't just watch from the sidelines as he took any step.

But now, he couldn't bear to not speak to her anymore...he couldn't handle the distance from his cheerful Jungli, who has brought so much light to his life.

After a long while, he again raised his head to look at her...and his lips turned into a soft smile at the sight ahead.

Imlie's head was rested at the back on the couch, while her laptop was still on her lap....his jungli had drifted asleep.

He shook his head at that and got up to slowly close the laptop and keep it aside. He then picked her up very gently so as not to awaken her and laid her on their bed.

Just as he covered her with a blanket, he couldn't help but sit beside her and stare at her face.

Her features shone as there was a soft, angelic glow on her face while sleeping.

It took a lot of efforts for him to keep himself from caressing her face.

He gently pushed behind the strands of hair falling on her face and whispered a good night to her.

Just as he was about to get up, Imlie squirmed in her sleep,

"Aryan...don't....leave....me..."

At this, he stopped and was stunned. He got overwhelmed and clasped their hands together.

Slowly, he lowered himself to tell her that he wasn't going anywhere. He placed a small kiss on her forehead.

She then had a small smile on her face and caught his hand even tighter.

Aryan's heart was beating very fast.

This feeling of warmth could only have been brought about by this one lady—and he was sure there was nothing he could do about it now. He was, as they said, "down bad."

"You are mine, Imlie Aryan Singh Rathore."

He told her, as he raised their joined hands to place a kiss on it.