He lowered his gaze, kissed the back of my hand, and muttered,“Pata hai, bahut saahas lagta hai jab aap apne jeevan ka wo satya kisi ko bataate ho jisse aap swayam kabhi smaran nahi karna chaahte—jisse aap pratidin door bhaagte ho tatha bachna chahte ho. Tumhaari saugandh, Suman, punah kisi ko nahi bata paayenge, itna saahas nahi hai. Aur ab to ye aasha bhi nahi hai ki koi samjhe kyunki samajhne yogya nahi rahein ab hum,”“You know, it takes a lot of courage to share that part of your life with someone you never want even to recall—the part you run away from every day. I swear to you, Suman, I’ll never be able to share this truth with anyone ever again, because I’m not left with that courage. And I don’t expect anyone to understand anymore because I don’t deserve that.”
His words made my heart heavy, and I lowered my gaze in silence, unable to respond.
“Then why did you tell me?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking.
He inhaled deeply and brushed my hand with his thumb as he spoke.“Patni ho, adhikaar hai tumhaara or aawashyak bhi hai tumhara jaanne ka,”“You are my wife; it’s your right and the necessity to know.”
I didn’t know, but it brought a slight smile to my lips, and I turned to look at him.“I have not accepted you yet,” and he smiled weakly.“And you are so unpredictable and confusing,” I added, furrowing my brows.
“How?”
“One moment you say you can leave me, and the next, you call me your wife,” I said.
He sucked his lip and replied slowly,“For me to call you my wife is my reality, and you have the right to make your own choices; your life is yours. No one can stop you from saying you don’t want to see me, or that you want to forget me, or that you wish to live alone or marry someone else. That’s your right, but I am not backing out of my responsibilities or feelings.”
His words resonated with me, and I didn’t know why, but hearing him made me feel lighter. It was as if he was lifting some weight off my chest.
“So what happens if I marry someone else?” I asked.
He furrowed his brows and raised his face to look at me with questioning eyes.
“Are you having an affair?” I quickly shook my head, my eyes widening in shock.
“Are you crazy? No!”
He leaned closer.“Just joking. I’ll be happy for you,” he spoke in a low tone, then suddenly raised his pitch.“But that man has to keep you happy. I mean, there’s no way he would ask you to cook after having sex and make you cry,” he said, and I chuckled.
“You cannot keep an eye on him.”
He shook his head.“That’s where you are mistaken, Sumanika Ji. I can keep an eye on him and take him out for hurting you, too.”
He turned his gaze toward me, and I felt a shiver go down my spine when he mentioned killing my hypothetical husband.
“You need therapy. I’m not even married yet, and you already wish to kill him,” I said and lowered my gaze.
He leaned closer and kissed my forehead.“Just be happy. I don’t want anything else. I don’t need answers; I don’t want you to be with me if it makes you unhappy or causes you to doubt yourself. No promises, no heartbreaks,” he said, and I gulped silently, leaning on his shoulder.
“I feel comfortable with you. I don’t know why. No man has ever made me feel this way. I can’t let go of this comfort.” It took a lot of courage to put that into words.
“I’m happy to be that,” he said, and I lowered my gaze.
“You know, when you’re upset, the world can tell,” I said slowly, and he chuckled.
“Trust me, when I’m upset, no one can tell,” he whispered.
I lifted my gaze to meet his; those green eyes made my heart race effortlessly.
“Why didn’t you tell your brothers about all of this?” I asked.
“It was not, is not, and will never be something I am proud of,” he said, looking away briefly.“So, it’s not worth sharing. What has happened has happened. Talking about it won’t undo it or wash it away. It will just hurt them and bring me back to where I was running away from.”
I couldn’t help but smile weakly while nodding.
“I can relate to that. I can’t share everything about my failures either; I mean, I can’t talk about my deceased husband and the life I went through with everyone because, honestly, even mentioning it hurts,” I replied, and he smiled.
“No, talking about it with the right person will never hurt—someone you trust to understand and just be with you. Like, Bhabhi-sa,” he said, and I felt a pang in my chest, lowering my gaze as I remembered how he was there for me when I needed him.
“Like you, Kunwar Agastya,” I muttered, lifting my gaze to meet his.
