Five Weeks by Shruti Omar (ebook reader that looks like a book .TXT) 📗

“I never said I was suffocated because of them.” She advocated herself, “I was suffocated because of you.”

“Come again?”

“Back then, I didn't know your ulterior motive behind this whole honeymoon thing and you were bossing me around everywhere. So I felt suffocated, in addition with frustration and anger.” She came out clean and for her own benefit added, “Not to mention the fact that I hate you.”

“Why do you hate me?” He was bemused. Every time she spelled it, it ripped his heart apart. Wishfully or not, she was his wife and the husband in him mourned when she accepted how much she hated him.

“Because you kissed me.” She replied within a blink as if the answer were impatiently waiting to roll out of her tongue.

“You hated me even before I kissed you.” He reminded her and smirked, “C'mon! Tell me how does it feel to always put the blame on someone?”

She gaped at him in surprise. She had never categorized the reason to hate him. That was something she didn't find as precious to reckon over. It was etched in her mind way before her marriage that she hated him yet the reason of this immortal hatred wasn't classified yet.

Like a fish, she opened and closed her mouth multiple times but could not form a cohesive sentence to reply. Her inability of not being able to retort had particularly nothing to do with the teasing smirk adorning his face.

“You don't know why you hate me because you don't hate me.” He concluded, flossing a kiss on her cheek and rose to his feet, “You just convinced yourself that you hate me without reckoning over the reason.”

Anahita watched him dumbstruck and he held a hand out for her, “You hungry?”

“Hmm?” she bounced her eyebrows, taking his hand and stood up.

“Are you hungry? I am ordering food here itself.”

“No, I am not hungry.” She shook her head, rubbing her arms. “I’d stay on the deck for sometime more.”

Yuvraaj shrugged, redeeming her hand and absconded inside to the living. He opened the refrigerator and extracted a can of juice. Anahita tracked his movements with an uncertain curiosity, refusing to take her eyes off him. She noted how he strutted to the cupboard and set his clothes inside, how he poured the juice directly down his throat and how he seductively wiped his lips with the back of his palm. His moving lips were taunting her for spending his precious money over food but she knew it was his lame attempt to engage her in a conversation to put her mind off the disturbing thoughts.

She appreciated his efforts though and ransacked her brain for digging out a possible reason to hate him. She had to have a solid if she didn’t want to revise her opinion on him because he had shaken her grounds. She rubbed her forehead, heaving out a labored breath, “Italy isn’t suiting me.”