“Why not?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
“Because… my parents still haven’t accepted our marriage, and they haven’t accepted you either.”
“And they’ll never accept our marriage, or me, unless I try,” I counter firmly.
She opens her mouth, probably to argue again, but I cup her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek. “Meera, I am your husband. You’re my wife. I won’t hide from them or give them the space to think I don’t care enough to show up. I already made a mistake in the way I married you, but I won’t make another by staying away and giving them more reason to hate me than they already do. It’s high time I face them and prove to them that I am worthy of you.”
I knew meeting her parents was inevitable, and at some point, I would have to face them. I was just buying time to fullywin my wife’s heart. And now that I have, it’s time for the next step: convincing her parents. I know how much she loves them, how central they are to her life, and that makes them a part of mine too.
She swallows hard, her eyes meeting mine, filled with fear, love, and relief all at once. She lets out a small, shaky sigh. “Dev…”
“I am not letting you go to your parents and have them question us. And I am definitely not letting you stay away from me for days,” I say, my thumb brushing lightly over her lower lip.
“Okay,” she breathes.
I drop a sweet kiss on her forehead. “Good. And next time, no packing without telling me. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
She laughs under her breath. “You weren’t around when Mom called. And the moment you came in, you didn’t even give me a chance to explain. You just freaked out.”
“Well, my fear got the better of me,” I admit, brushing her hair away from her face. “And I wasn’t here earlier because I wanted to make your favourite breakfast and wake you with it,” I add, nodding towards the tray. “Come on, let’s eat before it gets cold.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Well… last time proved your cooking isn’t exactly… edible.”
“This time I had help, sweetheart,” I say, leading her to the couch and setting the tray between us. I pick up a piece of paratha, break off a small bite, dip it in the sabzi, and hold it out to her.
“Here, try,” I say, watching her eyes soften as she leans in.
“Umm. This is far better than I expected,” she says, smiling at me.
“Told you,” I reply, grinning.
She leans in and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I whisper, picking up another piece of paratha and holding it out to her.
As I feed her, I can’t help but think that winning her parents’ hearts won’t be easy. But I also know that nothing meaningful ever is. My wife is worth every battle, every struggle… every single thing.
???
The drive to her parents’ house is quiet, punctuated by Meera’s worried glances every few minutes, as if she’s checking whether I am really certain about this. Each time, I squeeze her hand, reassuring her I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.
When we pull up at her parents’ home, I step out before she can open the door and move around to help her. She gives me a small, tentative smile and slips her hand into mine as we walk towards the house together.
The last time we were here, she hated being with me. And now she’s holding my hand.
How much has changed between us, and how far we’ve come.
She stops in front of the door and rings the bell. A few seconds later, her mom opens it. Déjà vu. Just like last time. A thousand emotions flash across her face in a heartbeat—surprise, concern, worry. Only this time, I am not here to break. I am here to mend.
“Meera, beta… you…” she says, looking between us.
“Mom,” Meera whispers, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around her mother. When they pull apart, her mom’s gaze meets mine once more.
“Namaste,” I say quietly, unsure of how to address her. If I call herSasuji, I know she might remember how I used it the lasttime, to hurt her. AndMommyjimight feel she’s not yet ready to let me call her that, at least not until I’ve truly proven myself.
She gives a small, stiff nod. “Namaste.”
I clear my throat. “I know I should have visited earlier. I owe you an apology.”
