I Became An Omega Wife Of Protagonist's Big Brother

CHAPTER FIVE

"Did you go shopping for the wedding?" Diya asked.

"Hmm. . ." Chandra trailed off, taking the time to decode his mother's words. He was sitting with his feet up on the couch and clutching the phone between his right ear and shoulder. To create a complete upward structure of a shoe, an upper settled between his thighs to hold it, as skillfully his hands moved an awl with a nylon thread to connect the upper with a vamp, like sewing pieces of clothes to make a dress.

"Chaand, are you listening to me?"

"No, I haven't," he replied.

His mother sighed. "Two days earlier, I told you to go shopping."

"Ahh!" The phone fell to the floor as Chandra yelped painfully. His forefinger tip grazed by the awl. His delicate fingers wrapped in layers of one inch paper tape in the middle parts of his fingers for safety, yet his other two fingers covered in the bandages. And now the blood was oozing out of a new cut, flowing along the edge until the paper tape wrapped around his finger soaked it. He hissed in pain. Leaving the stuff on the couch, he bent down, jacked up the phone, and palmed it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"What happened?"

"Nothing." He took the tissue paper from the box to stop the blood. 

"You cut yourself again?"

He pressed his lips together. "Nothing serious." He assured her as his eyes searched for bandages through the mess of shoemaking tools and other uppers, vamps, soles and colourful nylon spools on the table.

"I didn't know you would be this serious about making shoes. It's dangerous. You should stop this."

Chandra chuckled at his mother's exaggerated fretting for him.

They were sharp tools, but not dangerous if one knew how to use them. Hurting was normal by the tool sometimes. And Chandra had nicked his fingers a few times while cutting the leather. His father had a few employees for different jobs working on the same type of shoes, while Chandra had to do everything by himself. Even though Chandra had no vigorous practice in making shoes, his knowledge was vast. And His big brother let him have some fun at the factory where many men's leather shoes were made. He would watch and make notes. Sometimes, he would make shoes too. And he enjoyed it.

"Stop laughing, Chaand," she scolded him.

"I am fine, Ma. I will just put on a bandage." He found the bandages beneath a spool and yanked them.

"And get a tetanus injection."

"Uhn-haan," He said, tearing a bandage.

"And tomorrow you are going to Jatasya." Jatasya was the name of Aryan Singh's house.

Wrapping the bandage around his fingers like his other fingers, he said, "But there are four days left in the Lagun." 

He remembered the dates on the wedding invitation card, which was delivered to the original owner fifteen days before the wedding. When the original owner opened the card, he'd burned it to the ashes on the gas stove.

"Chaand, listen to me, you are not the guest to go on the day of the Lagun function. You are family, beta. And you need to be present there before all the guests arrive."

"What about shopping?"

"Say this to your husband," His mother said in an earnest voice, and went on, "You call me from there tomorrow, okay?"

"Uhn-haan." And they hung up the calls after saying goodbye.

–

Standing on the side of the road, Chandra's eyes squinted against the noon sunlight reflected against the tallest glass building among the other many bungalows called Jatasya in this elite neighbourhood by the edge of the ocean. The building was twenty-nine stories high and had walls furnished with a vertically sheared garden. It looked more like a luxurious hotel rather than a house. He tilted his down and rubbed his neck as it was aching after counting the floors. Also, he was extremely tired after his four-hour long drive, even though he had come by taxi.