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

Her emotions were on contrast and she didn’t understand what was happening with her. Yuvraaj was prohibited because she was committed but her heart chose to deny logics. Now when she had unleashed the person her husband deep down, she just wanted to stay married to him and learn what this new relationship had in store for her.

*****

This is wrong yet it feels so right. He trusts me even when I've done nothing to gain his trust. She covered Yuvraaj with the quilt and stroked his head gently before tossing a peck on his forehead. She brushed his hair back and smiled, I have given him the wound that will always remain fresh but he still trusts me. And, the man I loved didn’t take a minute to humiliate me, ruin everything what we had.

She paddled to the deck and pulled the shrug over her frame, hugging herself. She extracted her phone from the jeans pocket and glanced through their pictures. They were looking happy and at peace.

How can I have these conflicting thoughts? If I can’t forgive Mukund for what he did, how can Yuvraaj forgive me? She dragged out a sigh and slid her phone back in the pocket. She stroked the wooden banister, watching the blistering sun dipping in the ocean, radiating like a halo, summoning the night to supersede his presence.

I trust you, Anahita. I won’t let you down. His loving words reverberated in her ears. They had fun doing boating and kayaking, clicking photographs and rejoicing moments where Yuvraaj possessively enfolded her in his arms and kissed her forehead. She was more confused with herself to enjoy his intimacy. She loved his touch, craved for his smiles and knitted their fingers together. Her soul was contented with the present and she didn’t regret the decision of giving a positive nod to be his wife.

The irony was she didn’t want them to be tangled in the term of five weeks anymore but she was the one who introduced this baneful phrase.

“Anahita?” Yuvraaj called her in raspy voice and she craned her neck to see him rubbing his eyes. He flung the blanket away and wore his flip-flops. He landed on his feet, yawning and stretched his arms before glancing at her, “Back to earth, Anahita."

If he is giving me so much, Anahita took a step down the deck and meandered to him, I can be a good wife for these days…till our fate allows.

Yuvraaj picked his phone from the bedside table when she approached him. She grinned ear to ear and pecked his lips, “Good evening husband dearest."

Stunned, Yuvraaj slipped his phone from his hands and his stupor dwarfed before the passion. Anahita cashed in on his momentarily numbness and kissed him passionately. Her roving fingers raced to his scalp, pulling the roots of his hair. Yuvraaj crouched low to hoist her in his callous arms and tightened her waxed legs around his tapered waist.

Anahita garbled a surprise squeal and clutched his shirt before taking gander of his radiating face. Yuvraaj pressed her on the mattress before crushing her underneath his weight. He followed the path from her jaw to the hollow of neck without leaving a nook where his lips didn’t shower kisses. In heat, she clung onto him for support, her erratic breathes landed them in frenzy. She cupped his face and pulled him to her eye level.

"Yuvraaj... That's....wait,” she wheezed amidst her rash breathing and framed his face. Yuvraaj kissed the tip of her nose and pressed his forehead against hers.

"We should go out more often. It does positive spell upon you." He snickered, sniffing her neck. Anahita burst into laughter and wrapped her arms around his neck. Yuvraaj distanced himself and pulled her up. He removed the stray locks from her cheeks. “I will get fresh meanwhile order something. I am starving.”

*****

Love is a simple term but it is complex enough. A lifetime is less for deciphering its real meaning but yes, to say that one is in love, a moment is enough. Infatuation marks the beginning, possessiveness is the confirmation, jealousy depicts the intensity and confession is the certification how deep your boat has sunk in the abyss of love.

Anahita was the epitome of the aforementioned paraphrase. The mutinous girl had been morphed into an unfamiliar bundle of obedience. She had learnt to tolerate her husband’s bizarre mood-swings. She was the maverick in the world of love Yuvraaj had brought home to. It was the selfless kind of love.

They were cocooned in sheaf of blankets and she was resting her head upon his chest, lazily drawing her fingers over his heart. They were watching the repeat telecast of football match in which Anahita really had no interest. As if to composite the melting souls, mother-nature had played cupid, adding inclemency in the weather and coerced them to stay indoors. The hotel authorities had forbade the routine jaunts of the tourists.

Anahita munched onto the jalapeno cheese sandwich and rubbed her nose with the Kleenex. She was tucked under her husband’s armpit and resembled a cute cat with a cap on her head. She cuddled closer to him and rubbed her cheek on his chest as a wordless invitation to receive a kiss upon her forehead.

"Do you plan to watch this shit stuff whole day?" She asked and peered at him. Yuvraaj had his eyes glued to the plasma and that bothered her very much. Their steamy encounter made them close but that was it. She rubbed his cheek and winced when his beard pricked her palm, “Fuck!”

“Language, Anahita,” he frowned, creasing his eyebrows. She pouted, attempting to look innocent, “Can't I say shit even? Which world do you belong to?"

"I distaste the second one. Though you start with shit and lead to grosser level of cussing."

Anahita rolled her eyes and escaped out of his arms, “Okay fine, sorry. Now please shut this off,” she grabbed the remote and switched off the television. “Let’s talk!”