Chronicles Of My Darling Husband

92. Kumud (Part 2)

As he opened the bathroom door, he noticed rose petals scattered across the floor like a pink confetti trail. Jagdish blinked, certain they hadn't been there before.

"Weird." He muttered, the sting from the rose he'd taken to the eye earlier a fading memory.

One of the flowers Nishita had thrown had landed perfectly on his eye. It had stung like hell, but his irritation had quickly faded when he had seen the scared look on her face. Clearly, she hadn't thought her actions through and was probably just bored, playing with flowers.

He had decided to take a quick shower, partly to wash away the irritation in his eye and partly to change into something more comfortable. He wasn't used to wearing heavy, fitted clothing, and he had traded the suffocating sherwani for the familiar comfort of his favorite kurta.

Emerging out, he found Nishita already fast asleep on the bed, a symphony of gentle snores filling the air. Her ornaments lay neatly on the nightstand, her dupatta discarded on the empty side of the bed.

Weirder than ever.

Hadn't she been wide awake just moments ago? Now, barely twenty minutes had passed, and she was sound asleep, without a word exchanged. Disappointment tugged at him. What had happened? He had been looking forward to finally sitting together, alone in his bedroom, and having a conversation about whatever she wanted to talk about because he loved her voice, the lilting tune like the music from a flute. But here she was, lost in slumber. Was she so exhausted she couldn't even stay awake to say goodnight?

His gaze shifted to the mattress, noting the scattered petals and slightly rumpled sheets, evidence of her earlier restlessness. Was she angry with him? But what had he done to upset her so much that she didn't wait for him to join her?

She always sent him goodnight messages on WhatsApp, the app containing only her chats filled with good mornings, how are yous, and good nights. He rarely replied, but she had been consistent, even persistent, in getting him to at least type a good night. So why had she fallen asleep without waiting for him tonight?

Well, a very good wedding night!

He walked over to the bed and gently removed the dupatta from it. "Wifey..." he called softly, trying to gauge if she was deeply asleep or if there was still a chance to spend some time together.

She took a long breath, her back facing him. "What?"

"Oh, so you're not asleep yet?" Jagdish felt a wave of relief wash over him and sat on the edge of the bed. "I thought you were tired and already sle—"

"I am tired if that's what you want to know," she snapped.

Taken aback by her sharp reply, he cleared his throat. "Why are you pissed?"

"Am I?"

"Yes, you clearly are upset about something." Jagdish lay on the mattress, propping himself up on his elbow. He watched as her hair struggled to spill out of her loose bun, a small smile playing on his lips. "I've told you to share whatever you're feeling with me. That's the only way I can truly understand you."

He reached out and gently took hold of a loose strand of her hair, twirling it between his fingers. His chuckle was soft, almost tender. "I'm your husband, not a detective."

She turned swiftly, causing him to pull back. "You are not funny," she seethed. "Don't ever try to joke."

He couldn't stop staring at her. Her fierce eyes, steely and intense, looked ready to burn him to ashes if he dared say another word. The fire in them was mesmerizing, a stark contrast to the delicate curve of her pouting lips, which, despite her anger, looked almost endearing and incredibly kissable. Her skin, glowing softly in the dim light, only added to her ethereal beauty, making her seem like a fierce goddess caught between fury and fragility.

"Well," he said with a playful grin, trying to lighten the mood, "I guess I don't have as much talent as you do."

Nishita kept glaring.

"Okay, stop throwing arrows of fire at me," he said, moving closer. "What did I do?"

"I was waiting for hours, and then you waltz in here like some maharaja, complaining about how your royal attire is uncomfortable, and then you just leave me alone," she blabbered, her voice rising with every word. "You just leave me here, sitting like an idiot in this heavy, suffocating, despicable dress! How dare you not even talk to me or try to comfort me while I sit here, feeling like a fool, surrounded by these silly rose petals!?"

Oh.

"Do you want to change?" he offered gently.

The fiery glint in her eyes hadn't dimmed. "Ugh! Do you even understand the meaning of 'suhaagraat'?" she demanded, her voice laced with exasperation.

"A night to love and consummate the marriage, the celebration of the union of two souls," he replied, looking deeply into her eyes. "Wifey, I know exactly what it means."

Nishita choked and coughed loudly.

--

A/N

That's why it's best to stay quiet when there's no need to show off. Nishita is dumb, don't be like Nishita. XD

"Khairiyat" for Jagdish's disappointed heart.

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