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

Episode Twenty Three

Shock was evident on Yuvraaj's face as he witnessed the enraged Anahita, almost stapling on him. She frowned and rested her elbow on his shoulder, intimidating the hell out of him. “Who am I? I am your legally wedded wife. It doesn't matter for a week or two but I am your only wife and only I have rights on everything that is yours. Do you get that?" She brilliantly broached up the topic of his money as well.

"Why did you even have to pace up there? I was lost in thoughts and that's why I couldn't see you but you should've looked back once, to check if I am there or not." She gripped his chin. "And now since you have found me, you are lying. How could you?"

Her pitch and the stares of scrambling figures increased. Yuvraaj was embarrassed for first time in his life. He was being berated in the public by a woman who happened to be his wife and with this position where she had caught him captive.

"Anahita...." He pried her hands, "We shall talk later in our room."

"No!" She refused adamantly, "Why not now? You made me sick by yapping all the time that I am your wife, I am your wife since forever. My whole life is in this phase just because you wanted me as your wife and here, you've a new frame of mind. You refuse to accept my existence. You refuse to let me stay with you and now, you refuse that I am your wife. On top of that, you say you were lying."

"Ana...."

"Save it Yuvraaj.” She showed him her palm, “I am not listening anything. You men can't be trusted upon. I have to be the way I am just because you and everyone drilled it into me that I am your wife and now suddenly you don't want me. You will never understand. You don't have to pain yourself to be with me."

Angrily, she pivoted in her heels only to be pulled back and this time, Yuvraaj pasted her in the wall. This happening didn't fascinate the miniscule number of people around and they paid no heed to a six feet two inches tall man who had shoved a petite woman in the wall besides they had seen the prior scenario.

"Leave me..." She wriggled but he drew a finger on her lips, smirking wide, "It seems you're deeply hurt that I have a new frame of mind now. You sound like you desperately want to be my wife. Huh?"

"Over my dead body!" She snorted.

"That's not what you said seconds ago. You wanted to know why I have this frame of mind and you sounded very pleased when I yapped that you are my wife." With each word, his lips trembled to burble up in laughter but he held himself back. "You got groomed for me. You wanted to be perfect for me and now since we're married, you don't want to leave me, do you?"

"I never said that. I said it's your mistake that I was lost." She blatantly refused, chinning up. Without further ado, her kissed her passionately, holding her head between his palm and she pulled back abruptly hitting her head in wall, "Ouch!"

"See," Yuvraaj cackled, "If you try to stay away from me, you will hurt yourself."

"What the hell? How do you do that?"

"Like this." He kissed her again, nipping her lower lip and shoved his tongue inside her mouth on a voyage, exploring every nook and cranny. Anahita moaned in disbelief. Her legs worked against gravity. She tried to steady herself but had to grip his shoulder for support. His arm flung around her waist pulling her closer and raised her from the ground.

"I meant how dare you kiss me without my permission?" she demanded, wheezing as he left her and stabilized her breaths.

"You wouldn't want to." He kissed her forehead and pulled her with him. Wordlessly, she matched his steps walking abreast and they sloshed into the nearby restaurant. Anahita excused herself for a quick minute and did her touch up, sprucing up her messy self. Dinner was uneventful for them with the blush on her face every now and then which Yuvraaj studiously avoided.

"Hey, you go. I'll just come back." Yuvraaj halted as they reached near their villa and she caught his wrist, “Where?"

"I'm just coming."

"No way. Spill out." She demanded and he sighed. "You won't forget your way. I have to make a call from the reception. Now, will you let me?”

"Okay." She unwillingly drew back her clasp and nodded her chin, "But come soon."

"I will." Smiling, he jogged back to the hotel building and she sauntered to their suite, finally relieved that she was safe.

Next morning was unlike regular mornings that were dawning upon the couple, snoring softly within embrace. This morning Anahita didn’t wake up cursing her husband, this morning Yuvraaj didn’t steal a kiss from his dormant bride and pretended to stay asleep when her eyes blinked. This was a fresh, exuberant morning paving in their little adobe which was as always disheveled yet now coming to a spick-and-span way.

Muffling the comforter more on her, Anahita tried to retain on the warmth radiating from a very naked Yuvraaj. Her fingers drawled upon his chest and rested on his heart. Gradually, her eyes blinked as she adjusted her gaze against the sunlight peeping directly through the glass window facing ocean and she stretched her body, yawning.

As though a bird had just taken flight from her mope headed hair and she sniffed, rubbing her nose. Crying session of yesterday well conversed with the cold weather of Sardinia and decided to confer cold upon her. Lethargically, she staggered to the bathroom and fished out her toothbrush from the cabinet, looking at her face in the mirror. Her nose was a hot pink; corroboration of her short-lived acute cold. Lazily, she brushed her teeth and a dull smile bloomed on her lips as she recalled the events of the night.

"What took you so long? I was about to…what is in the bag?” she questioned as Yuvraaj appeared with a paper bag in his hand.

"This is," He teased her with a smile and plopped on the couch installed in a corner of their suite to reveal the bottle of vintage wine, making her gasp, "You're going to drink? Only this was left, my husband is a drunkard and I....don't understand why dad praised you so much? Listen; don't even think of puking after your little celebration because I vomit at the sight of vomit. Hell, I am feeling spew." She bantered and covered her mouth with her palm, feeling hypochondria.

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