Married To A Stranger

Sreesha Pov:

“Sreesha” he called me again.

A chill ran through my spine by just hearing his voice. I can sense that he was coming my way and I can feel the sweat forming in my palms. He stopped just a foot away from me, his voice didn’t do any good, I was a trembling mess.

I gulped down the gasp when he tried to reach my hand. Just when he was about to touch it, I flinched a little, that stopped him.

Rejected!

I rejected his touch… and he is aware of it. I closed my eyes waiting for some harsh words or a slap. My mother said men can get angry when they face rejection.

I sense the bed sink a few inches away from me. I closed my eyes tightly not willing to see his enraged face. My grip on the sheets tightened as well.

But to my surprise, his voice greeted me instead of his hand “Sreesha, please look at me” his voice was as soft as a velvet cake with a hint of huskiness to it.

We can always compare the huskiness with some extra whipped cream *dreamy sigh*

“Please” he added. This time I accepted his wish, I can’t deny him anymore. He must be having a hard time controlling his anger on me. I sent a prayer to God to lessen his rage before he starts dealing with me.Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

I opened my eyes slowly like I was just out of eye surgery and making sure my eyesight was clear. I sighed;

I get these weird ideas all the times. First Velvet cake then whipped cream and now eye surgery?

My conscience plays a weird role in my life from the very beginning of my life, it is the sarcastic side of me which makes an appearance when it’s not needed the most.

I was met with a pair of most beautiful chocolate brown eyes I had ever seen, which were looking at me curiously. I lowered my gaze immediately, remembering my mother’s words.

Lower your gaze when you’re talking to your husband, it is a sign of disrespect.

“Can I hold your hand, Sreesha?” He asked making my grip hard on sheets “please” he added. I nodded still not sure why he was asking me when he can do whatever he wants.

I gasped audibly when his hand met mine, I didn’t feel sparks and electricity like they mention in those Romance books. It was slightly different, I feel secured and comfortable with his touch so, just like that, I released my grip on the bedsheets allowing him to take my hand into his.

His touch was soft and caring, that is not something I imagined. I thought it would be rough, harsh or powerful.

He started caressing the back of my palm with his thumb, igniting a small hope in my dead heart.

Hope for what?

“Now that you’re breathing normally, I hope you’re fine. Can we talk now?” He asked still caressing my hand. I nodded.

“I’m sorry,” he said, I almost heard the crack when I lifted my head swiftly. I sure would have sour neck tomorrow.

Did he just say sorry?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask your consent for our marriage,” he said looking straight into my eyes, this time my gaze did not falter. The look in his eyes was sincere, after making sure he wasn’t joking, I nodded. I thought he would laugh at me saying it was a fake apology, but I did not find faking in his voice nor his eyes.

“Talk to me, Sreesha” I kept mum.

“At least say my name” he pleaded.

“Do you even know my name? ” there was a hint of anger in his voice which made my reflexes active. I took my hand away from him. I tried to move away but he stopped me by holding my hand.

“Hey… hey relax. I’m not going to hurt you, Sreesha. Relax okay? I just wanted to know if you by any chance did not know my name. Do you think I will hurt you?” He asked slowing like he was talking to a child. I nodded.

“You do?” I nodded again; hope I would not have a sprain in my neck with all this nodding. I want to talk to him too but the fear in me crushed my voice “Sreesha, I know you’re from different background and environment. Your family must have set a wrong example of marriage for you. But you’re not with them anymore, you can throw those ideal wife qualities in a dustbin and be yourself. In Shekhar’s family, we men treat our wives as equals. You are not Sreesha Verma anymore, you’re Mrs Sreesha Karthik Shekhar. You’re my wife Sreesha I would not dream of hurting you. Feel free to voice your thoughts openly, feel free to point out my mistakes because a wife has every right to correct her husband’s mistakes. And feel free to tell me if you’re not ready for the next step in our marriage” his little speech made me speechless. Never had I ever thought he would say all those things.

I kind of like the sound of Sreesha Karthik than Sreesha Verma.

Did he just say husband and wife are equals?

Seriously?

If my father gets to hear it, he will have an early death. His stone heart might get a crack listening to his words.

How the hell my father accepted to this match again?

‘Everything will be fine di, do as father says and I’ll deal with the rest. Just trust me’ I recalled Tej’s words. This is what he meant; he knew Karthik is a good person. That is why he did not want to stop the marriage.

Sorry for the misunderstanding, Tej. I love you I mentally announced my love for my brother.

“Sreesha” his voice pulled me harshly from my la la land. “Will you answer me now?”

“Ji” I mumbled.

“I want you to say my name, Sree” Sree? “Can I call you Sree from now?” he asked rubbing his neck. I nodded.

“K- Karthik” I stuttered.

“What? I didn’t hear you. Sure, you said something but I didn’t get to hear it” he said frowning.

“Er… Karthik” I said, this time a bit loudly.

“I missed it again, I think I’m having a hearing problem” he mumbled touching his ears. I feel bad for him, but I used my regular voice last time I said his name.

“Karthik,” I said a little too loudly, if my mother was outside the door, she would have heard it.

“I think I missed it again” his frown was constant but slowly it turned into a smirk. He had been playing with me from the start.

“Karthik! Stop playing with me.” I yelled, somehow, he succeeded in waking up the Sreesha I buried a while ago. The evil side of Sreesha.

Did I just yell at him?

Fear surged through me. I raised my voice at him! What would he do now? I still remember the day when my father slapped my mother for raising her voice at him.

“Woah! I got a little tiger for a wife” he grinned. When I thought his smile would melt an ice cube make it a glacier when he grins. He can melt a freaking glacier with his grin. I was literally swooning over him right now.

He snapped his fingers before my face snapping me into reality. I frowned I want to stay in my imagination I created a while ago… at the melting glacier.

“There is a little drool over there,” he said pointing at my mouth, like an idiot I am, I wiped. Just like that, he burst into fits of laughter while I stay silent watching him. I’m planning to make the freaking Himalayas melt now.

“Sree, oh god, I did not laugh like this much in years,” he said holding his sides, still laughing at my expense.

When his laugh seized, he said: “You look beautiful when you smile”.

I did not realize that I’ve been smiling looking at him. His smile was contagious. Normally I would get angry when someone makes me a laughingstock but with him, I don’t mind being a joker just to watch him laugh.

‘You sound like a lovesick puppy, Sreesha! Get a grip on yourself it’s only been a day you got married and you started falling for his charm? What would you do if this is all an act?’

That did it. I rebuilt the walls around my heart which he succeeded in breaking with just using a hand full of words.

‘Stop being so naive, Sressha, just because he was polite doesn’t mean he did not have the power to break you. Remember we should not trust men; they always leave you when you needed them the most’ My conscience talked some sense into me.

“Are you sleepy?” He asked frowning.

“Yes,” I mumbled.

“Okay. You sleep here, on the bed I’ll take the couch” he said while standing. Why is he acting so polite? I want to hate him for marrying me, I want to hate him for not trying to ask my consent for our marriage.

I just want to hate him, curse him for everything that is going on in my life. Is it too much to ask?

But he is making it hard to hate him with all the sweet-talking and politeness.

And he wants to take a couch? Why?

Maybe he didn’t want to sleep next to you?

Maybe he was forced into this marriage as well?

Or maybe he was just being polite!

“I- I’ll t-take the couch, y-you please sleep here” why the hell am I stuttering?

“I called dibs on couch remember. Now sleep well. Mom said you have some rituals to follow early in the morning” he said making his way to the couch.

“Don’t you think that the veil is too heavy? Please tell me you’re not planning to sleep wearing those heavy clothes. Sure, you look beautiful with all those things but I’m sure they will not be comfortable to sleep.” He said making his way towards a closed-door “come here” he said waving his hand.

I reached him without stumbling on my heavy Saree. The door he was holding is a walk-in closet.

“This is our closet; mom bought a few things for you days ago and that -pointing to the other closed door – is washroom. Please feel free to use whatever you want” he said leaving me alone to choose.

The closet is very spacious, and his clothes were arranged neatly according to the type. The other side of the closet is filled with dresses, Sarees, Shoes, heels, accessories, handbags, clutches and what not. This is every freaking girl’s dream. Cosmetics are neatly arranged on the table with a big sized mirror attached to it.

I am not a big fan of shopping or flashy things, but I really appreciate the effort his mother made. I should thank her for this tomorrow. I find some pajamas and went to the washroom.

The washroom was no less compared to the closet. For a second I thought it was mine. It has everything I prefer. From my favorite soap to same branded toothbrush I use. I suppressed a laugh.

His mother must have liked me so much to waste her time and money on these little things.

After a nice warm bath, I slipped into the nightdress I brought from the closet. Opening the door, I made my way towards the bed and slipped into the warm covers. My eyes landed on the couch, where Karthik was sleeping uncomfortably. I noticed, he changed into some comfortable clothes.

I feel so bad for him, his 6 feet or so figure is hard to adjust on that couch. I want to ask him to take the bed but stopped myself. What if he gets angry about waking him?

I tiptoed to the closet and came back with an extra blanket which I noticed while I was checking out his closet.

My steps faltered with each step I take towards him. I was so nervous that I almost gave up on my task.

I wrapped the blanket around him carefully, not wanting to wake him but stilled in my place when he grasped one of my hand and held it against his heart.

My heartbeat raised making it impossible to breathe normally for me. I can feel his heartbeat. His heartbeat is beating matching the pace of mine. For a second I thought he was awake, but he is not. I sighed in relief seeing his relaxed face.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly loosened his grip using my other hand. I almost jumped in excitement when I completed my task without waking him.

As soon as my head hit the pillow, I sighed in content.

Just when I was about to fall into a deep slumber, I felt a feathery touch on my forehead and heard someone say

I missed you.