Marrying Mr Unpredictable (COMPLETED✅️)

Childhood Trauma

Arya:

For the first time, I took the initiative to prepare dinner. Ishaan usually insists on sparing me from domestic tasks, fearing that his absence might lead to his family treating me less like a family member and more like a servant. Initially, his mother had set strict boundaries for me, like not sitting on the living room sofa or sharing meals with them. They were oblivious to my background, assuming I was just a poor girl chasing wealth through Ishaan, unaware that luxury and influence were not strangers to me. Ishaan, kept in the dark about his mother's edicts, never mirrored such disdain.

As Ishaan sampled the meal I made, his silence left me second-guessing the flavors. Is it not tasty or doesn’t he like it?

He's not one for compliments, preferring quiet appreciation, so I braced myself for muted acceptance. Yet, I remained hopeful awaiting for his response.

To my surprise, his words broke the silence with warmth. "It's delicious. It's been ages since I've savored such heartfelt home cooking," he said, his smile genuine and uplifting.

"Really?" I asked, barely concealing my delight.

"Yes," he affirmed. "I'd love for you to cook for Eira and me when you find the time."

"I could do this every day for you," I said, encouraged by his tender smile.

But his response was firm, laced with respect for my aspirations. "That's exactly what I don't want. You're an educated, talented woman. Your designs, your work ethics, they all point to a brilliant future in business for you. You could be a great business woman if you follow your passion and I will be your support," Ishaan said, remembering me Dhairya who is well known for her business tactics.

Ishaan continued, " I can't let that potential wither in the kitchen, tangled in chores that others can handle.

Cook occasionally, take a break from the world, like I did for you recently. But make it clear—if you choose to cook, do it for me and Eira, not for those who can't value family love, who would rather exploit than appreciate. Respect is earned, and those who can't offer it don't deserve it in return," he said, pointing out his family.

At times, I ponder, if it's not for Ishaan's imposing demeanor, his family might have relegated me to the role of an unpaid domestic worker. Thankfully, they refrain from crossing any boundaries due to his intimidating presence.

"Would you like some sambar?" I offered, hoping to distract him. His glare intensified, but my smile only seemed to puzzle him further. His constant anger was wearing me down. I needed to find a way to soothe his temper. Regardless of our future, whether the truth would force us apart, I wanted him to find happiness, at least with his family. I was all too familiar with the sting of loneliness and I couldn't bear the thought of Ishaan enduring that pain once more.

After dinner, he joined me in our room.

I was tidying up the bed when he wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek.

"Are you upset with me?" Ishaan said.

"Why would I be?"

"For the scolding this morning and my harshness this evening."

"It's not harshness I see in you, but concern. Your worry for me is clear, so no, I'm not upset. In your anger, I sensed your love," I replied, turning to face him.

"How do you manage to be so understanding? I've done nothing but sins, and yet, I'm blessed with a wife like you."

"Thank you for the heartwarming meal and the comforting coffee. It washed away any remnants of my anger. I'm used to meals prepared out of obligation, either eaten out or made by a cook. But today, I savored a meal made with love, just for me," he said, kissing my forehead.