“Why was Aisha in such a rush?” Chhavi asks me as soon as I get inside. The lights of the guest room are off, so I take that as a sign that our mothers are sleeping.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Reyansh,” she stops me, and I grumble. I don’t like making small talk with anyone. Her especially.
“Yes?”
“Is everything okay between you two?”
I furrow my brows. Does she know?
I doubtMaawould have told anyone from their family.
“Of course,” I say, with no hesitation in my voice, because maybe everything was not okay between us before. But now I know it is.
I can feel it in my bones.
“Then why doesn’t it feel like that?” she asks, stepping closer to me, and I take a step back.
I don’t like her one bit. She is the least of my favorite cousins.
“I don’t care what you feel or what you don’t feel, Chhavi.”
“She is my sister.” She rests her hand on my bicep, and I give her a sharp glare. I hate when someone other than my wife touches me. Be it her cousin or her friend or anyone else.
If you’re not Aisha Kapoor, you don’t get to touch me.
She takes her hand back, and I turn to go to my room, in the safety of my woman.
“A blind person could sense that you guys are not doing good. I only want to help my sister.”
I chuckle, hollow of any humor.
“I don’t think your sister needs your help. Stay away from us and our relationship, Chhavi. I only tolerate you because ofMaaand her. Otherwise, you don’t matter. Understood.”
I don’t wait for her response, and by the look on her face, I know she isn’t going to take this warning lightly.
* * *
Aisha Kapoor
Reyansh is behaving weirdly this morning. I don’t know if it is the stress of today’s dinner or something else. But he looks extra grumpy today and extra clingy too.
“Are you okay?” I ask as I spray some perfume on my neck.
It was a hazard trying to cover up the massive red mark on my neck, but thankfully Sasha taught me a trick to color correct, and it doesn’t show up as much now.
“Yes,” he says, putting on his watch, not paying much attention to me.
“I feel like you want to say something, but you are holding back,” I say, turning him to look at me. His eyes soften slightly at the edges before he sighs.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” he says, and I quirk an eyebrow.
“About?” I ask, rubbing a soothing arm up and down his shoulders. He relaxes under my touch, and I smile.
He locks his arms behind my waist, pulling me closer, and I feel like this hug is different. As if he doesn’t want to let me go.
As if he is scared something will happen if he does.
