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DEVIKA

Silence.

A strange, unsettling silence.

For the first time, I was witnessing such quietness on the breakfast table—everyone eating their meal without any banter, without any exchange of smiles, just… mechanical movements.

How easily people hide their smiles…

How smoothly they swallow their emotions…

Burying love beneath spoonfuls of food—this family was a perfect example of that.

There were two extra faces at the table today—his Mami ji and Mama ji.

Mama ji looked to be in his fifties, sitting tall and reserved, while Mami ji wore a constant curve of smugness on her lips that unsettled me for some reason.

As usual, he had served me, quietly placing everything I needed on my plate without asking. I, too, kept my head down, eating without speaking.

Then came his voice—calm, smooth, and disturbingly perceptive.

“What happened, Devi? What are you thinking?”

I looked up, surprised.

But he wasn’t looking at me.

His attention stayed fixed on his plate, his jaw working methodically as he chewed, his expression blank… almost bored.

Why didn’t he smile?

The only time I had seen him genuinely smile was in front of his Nani and Bhabhi… even then, who knew whether that smile was real or just another mask?

And yet… he didn’t look at me. Didn’t glance my way.

Still… he knew.

He always knew—my every blink, my every flinch, every wandering thought.

As if… as if he could see me, not with his eyes… but through his soul.

Why was I thinking so much?

I shouldn’t be.

“Stop glaring at me, Devi.”

His voice again—smooth, teasing, cutting through my swirling thoughts.

Startled, I snapped my gaze away from him, only to land it directly on Mami ji…

Her stare was sharp, her lips curled in a faint, knowing smirk.

And just like that—

I choked.

“Oho… hmm… hmm…”

I coughed violently, bringing attention I desperately didn’t want.

He immediately leaned forward, patting my back firmly, pushing a glass of water toward me.

“Drink slowly,” he said with a frown.

I grasped the glass and downed it hurriedly, trying to suppress the coughing fit.

“Devika, are you okay?” Jiji’s voice came first, then Nani’s, followed by murmurs from others.

I managed a shaky nod, clearing my throat, “Ye… yes… I’m fine… the food… just got stuck…”

“Aaraam se khao, beta,” Mama ji said gently, his tone fatherly.

“Are you okay now?”

His voice came again—calm but edged with concern, and this time, his gaze did meet mine, searching, tense.

I swallowed and nodded, “Hmm…”, shifting slightly in my seat.

My eyes flitted to the side—towards Mami ji, who was now chewing her food ever so gracefully, but the mischief hadn’t left her eyes… her smirk had deepened.

Was she playing some silent game with me?

“Devi.”

I turned again—his voice firmer this time.

He was staring at me now… but more than that—he was searching for me, almost irritated by my distraction.

And before I could react, he dragged my chair closer to him, making me nearly stumble into him.

“Wh-what are you doing? Everyone’s watching…” I whispered in shock, eyes darting across the table.

“No one’s watching,” he replied smoothly, eyes glinting with authority, “Now… open your mouth.”

“Huh…”

A soft gasp escaped my lips as the spoon hovered near me.

“Open your mouth, Devi,” his calm yet commanding voice came again.

I glanced around in disbelief—

Surprisingly, it was true… no one was even looking at us. Everyone sat focused on their plates, silently finishing their breakfast.

My gaze shifted back to him.

His expression didn’t change—stern, unwavering. He simply motioned again for me to open my mouth.

I complied…

The spoon, filled with upma, slid past my lips.

Warm, soft, a simple bite… but my heart was a chaotic mess.

One after another, he fed me patiently—each bite like a strange silent conversation we never had. His hands moved steadily, his attention never directly on me, yet he seemed to know every little reaction of mine.

And I?

I didn’t take my eyes off him… not even for a second.

When the plate was done, he took the tissue, gently wiped the corners of my lips without asking.

Not once did he look at me…

Not once did I look away.

And that’s when the thought hit me—

I don’t hate this man.

Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t figure out on what grounds I should.

The only reason I thought I had… had already faded away, dissolved into meaningless dust.

But…

I didn’t love him either.

Not yet.

He was no longer a stranger.

Yet… how could anyone surrender heart and mind within mere days?

I stayed still in my seat, awkward and quiet, feeling too conscious though no one seemed to care.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get more embarrassing, he did something absolutely insane again.

He casually grabbed my saree’s pallu, wiped his hands… and then his mouth.

And I?

I… let him.

Not once did I pull back, not once did I flinch.

I just stared at him… confused, fascinated, helplessly drawn.

Then, he stood and, without asking, caught my wrist.

“Chalo,” his voice was soft but left no room for refusal.

Before I could question, Nani Maa interrupted the silence at the table,

“Where are you taking her, dikra?”

“Nowhere, Nani Maa. Just taking her out for a day,” he answered, shrugging casually.

“Hmm… thik che, but be back before evening,” her tone was soft but had authority.

“You remember na… we have to go to the village today.”

His jaw tensed a little but his voice stayed steady,

“Yes, I remember… I’ll take her.”

Village?

Why village?

Questions stormed my mind but I held them back—I'll ask him in the car.

“Kya dadi saasu, honeymoon mein jane ke time par aap inhein village lekar jayengi “ I heard mami ji's voice and saw who was smirking looking at me,

“Tane koi kidhu che salah aapva bahu rani? Shu kem tara mukh ne kasht aapi rahi che? Jamva bethi kha ne.”,

(Did anyone ask you for advice Bahu rani? Why are you troubling your tongue unnecessarily? Please eat you food peacefully)

Nani ma, said her voice chilling with a hint of frustration, maybe she didn't like mami ji, I saw everyone was guggling under their breath,

“Let’s go,” he said again, this time his eyes meeting mine. No expresions..

I stood without resistance. His fingers curled gently around my wrist as he guided me away from the table.

Just as we reached the threshold of the dining hall…

I felt it.

A stare.

A sharp, burning stare.

I turned instinctively.

My eyes collided with Mami ji’s—her lips twisted in a mocking smirk, her teeth working on her food, her eyes screaming something I couldn’t yet decode.

Not everything was simple in this house…

Not everything was as calm as it appeared.

but who cares, until it's my turn,

.

.

“Go sit in the car, I’m coming in a while.”

His voice was casual, but there was a finality to it.

“Okay…”

I nodded and walked toward the car parked at the front porch.

The black-suited guards stood near the car, not too many though—certainly fewer than I remembered from the day of the wedding.

Not that it mattered.

Why should I care about the guards?

Today… I was simply happy.

Happy that after so long, I was finally stepping out.

I slipped into the passenger seat, my hands resting awkwardly on my lap, my eyes fluttering to the side mirror, to the main door… waiting.

Moments later, I saw him.

In a casual light blue shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, perfectly fitted pants, one hand holding the phone near his ear as he spoke in that low commanding tone.

His veins—those fiery veins trailing down his arms—looked unfairly… attractive.

It would be a lie if I said he didn’t look good.

No… he looked dangerously good.

The kind who could steal any girl’s breath—effortlessly—with his looks, his presence… and that unnerving calmness.

He slid the phone back into his pocket and approached the car, opened the driver’s side without even glancing at me.

My heart skipped.

But the moment he settled in his seat and his eyes finally fell on me—

I panicked.

I turned my head instantly, pretending to look outside.

Did he notice me ogling at him?

And then—

“Don’t worry, Devi,” his voice came, laced with amusement, “Apni cheezon se nazar nahi hatate. I’m your husband… you own me. You can stare at me… however much you want… whenever, wherever.”

My throat dried.

My fingers instinctively gathered near my chest, trying to shield myself, confused by his tone, his words… his overwhelming presence.

Then—

His hand moved closer, and I almost flinched—

Only to see him reach toward my left, pulling the seatbelt and securing it across me.

My gaze dipped, cheeks burning.

“Wh… where are we going?” I stammered, fiddling with my fingers.

He started the engine, looking straight ahead, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“It’s a surprise.”

I pouted, mumbling softly, “It’s my surprise… shouldn’t you tell me?”

His eyes snapped toward me for a brief second—sharp, commanding—before returning to the road.

I gulped, raising my hands in surrender.

“Okay… okay… don’t tell.”

The rest of the way was quiet.

Not the suffocating kind of silence… but something softer.

Neither of us spoke.

Neither of us tried to break it.

I simply let my eyes wander—sometimes to him, sometimes to the passing scenery outside the window.

Every time my gaze landed on him, my heart fluttered for reasons I refused to admit.

He drove effortlessly, calm, focused…

Unbothered by my stolen glances.

After what felt like forty… maybe fifty minutes, the car gradually slowed and came to a stop.

I looked out.

And my lips parted in awe—

Daisy flowers.

Endless fields of daisies stretched in every direction, their soft white petals swaying in rhythm with the gentle breeze. Here and there, delicate white roses peeked through, adding little dots of elegance among the sea of daisies.

Why again these daisy flowers…?

Before I could gather my thoughts, his door opened and within seconds—

“Step out… or should I carry you?”

His deep voice startled me.

“Huh?” I gasped, turning my head, only to find him already standing by my side, leaning a little too close.

When… when did he get here?

How did I not hear the door open?

My heart jumped.

Before I could answer or protest, his arms effortlessly curled around me, scooping me up.

Reflexively, my hands wrapped around his neck, my breath hitching.

“What are you doing? Put me down, I can walk myself!” I protested, struggling slightly in his hold, though I knew my efforts were useless.

“Why would you… when you have a husband?”

His reply came instantly—teasing, unbothered—as he kept walking ahead, completely ignoring my weak resistance.

“Shut up… just put me down!” I snapped back, narrowing my eyes.

“Nahh…” came his casual response.

“Bade dheet hain aap…” I muttered under my breath.

“Jaanta hoon,” he replied without even missing a beat, lips curling into a smirk.

I gave up with a little sigh, resting my head lightly against his shoulder, letting my eyes wander. The endless spread of daisies, the soft swaying of white roses, the crisp breeze brushing against my skin…

This feeling…

I didn’t know what to call it.

Peace? Warmth? Nervousness?

Maybe all at once.

Then I noticed the entrance up ahead—

A wooden board swaying lightly in the breeze, with "Samita Ashram" carved onto it in simple, graceful letters.

Multiple small cottages lay beyond the gates, arranged like their own little peaceful village. Each cottage is surrounded by flowers, small walking paths, and serene greenery.

It was like a world hidden away from the world.

My brows furrowed slightly in confusion, “Kya ye bhi aapka ghar hai?”

His response was so swift, so casual… yet it hit me like a silent storm.

“Nahh… mera ghar toh iss waqt… meri bahon mein hai.”

My heart stopped for a second.

I turned, looking at him. His gaze remained ahead, focused, steady… unfazed.

But his words…

His words created the biggest ripple inside me—since the moment I had met him… since the first time he had carried me like this.

And at that time…

I didn’t want him to put me down.

As we reached the entrance of the first cottage, he gently placed me on my feet, his hold lingering a moment longer before letting go.

I adjusted my saree slightly, stealing a quick glance at him—only to find his gaze already on me, quietly observing.

Then…

His hand moved up, fingers brushing past my ear with a featherlight touch.

In a slow, effortless motion, he clicked the back of my earring into place.

“They’re looking beautiful… because of you.”

His voice dropped softer, quieter—carrying something rare… something genuine.

A soft smile curled on my lips.

I touched the earrings gently, remembering the ones I’d found this morning on my dressing table—perfectly matching my pastel silk saree, handcrafted with little pearl detailing.

“I found so many other accessories in the drawer today…” I said absently, my fingers tracing the earring.

“Hmm… who brought them to you?” he asked, voice low but with an amused lilt.

“I don’t know… maybe Dhritya,” I mused aloud,

“she mentioned once that she would buy me some pretty earrings from the stalls outside her college. They have really beautiful ones…”

That’s when I caught it—

A smile tugging at his lips.

Not his usual arrogant smirk, not the mocking one… but a soft, effortless, real smile.

An elegant curve that I hadn’t seen when he was surrounded by others.

My heart did something odd.

Fluttered… maybe.

His arms folded at his elbows, shoulders relaxed.

“ koi baatein karte hue bhi itna haseen lag sakta hai kya “, he murmured,

I felt the heat rise up my neck, my cheeks instantly warming.

I turned my head, biting my lower lip, trying—failing—to hide the blush creeping up.

Before I could say anything, a new voice sliced through the peaceful moment—

Sweet, honey-dipped, feminine.

“Ansh ji… why are you here outside? Please, come inside…”

I blinked, startled, and instinctively turned to the source.

There stood a woman—dressed in a simple yet elegant chiffon suit, hair perfectly set, soft smile playing on her lips. Her eyes held a certain familiarity… confidence.

My smile faltered just a little, heart thumping curiously.

Who was she?

And… Why did she sound so comfortable saying Ansh ji?

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