ARRANGED MARRIAGE. A word they both dread. However, fate doesn't favor them.
Manik Malhotra weds Nandini Murthy.
A lie turns into truth, and twists their lives entirely. Two supposed opposites, married partly upon compulsion, fight their differences...
(A/N: Hey guys. Long time. So sorry for the late update. In fact, I am sorry for everything. This is comparatively a short part because there's more to this chapter which I can't write currently due to lack of time. But I wanted to give you guys a chapter. So here goes. Please vote and comment if it's nice. The other part will be added sometime tomorrow. Thanks. Loads of love.)
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I climbed the stairs after a long walk all the way home and came to see I had left my keys at home. Nevertheless, I knew he was at home. So I rang the bell. I heard it click open and I saw Manik wearing shorts, a vest and casually opening the door. My eyes scanned his scantily clad body, wet hair, seductive scent and with all my might, I pushed him inside closing the door behind me. I didn't know if it was my anger, or my possessiveness that made me push him, but that didn't matter much. He made a few pathetic faces and I walked past him, occupying the bedroom for myself.
I muttered a few abuses to him in my head and began changing my clothes. I hated that man. How could he be so heartless? Which man leaves his wife on the road alone, in the middle of the night when it's raining? Did he even bother to check on me ever since I'd come? He didn't even react when he saw me. What does he think of himself? Now I'll show him what Nandini is capable of. I spoke to myself as I grabbed some clothes. I didn't know the intention behind him being scantily dressed but I took it upon myself, as a challenge, that I was nonetheless. I dried myself, changed into pajamas and a tank top, and sat on the dresser to blow dry my hair. After I was done, I took some strands of my hair, clipped it to the side, to make me look cuter and I smiled at myself.
"So you wanna play it this way, eh Mr. Malhotra?" I giggled and stood up, with my head held high. I walked out of the door, and stepped into the kitchen to see him trying to cook something. I flipped my hair intentionally, to make it hit him and to my surprise, he was awestruck. To be honest, I liked it when he was blown away by the minutest things I did. I turned towards him, smirked and coughed, to bring him out of the trance, and immediately after, he rubbed his arm and looked at the ceiling, making faces to pretend something fell off the ceiling and that I didn't exist. How dumb.
I smirked, moved slightly closer to him and rubbed my bare shoulder over his arm and almost instantly, he stepped away. I grabbed the chapati he had made for himself, put it on my plate and ran into the room. I locked the door, slid to the floor and chuckled, while eating the first bite, when I heard him kick and bang the door, screaming abuses at me indirectly for stealing his food.
When I heard the screams subside, I opened the door a little and peeked out to see if the coast was clear. He was lying on the couch, with a grumpy face and eyes closed. I sneaked out of the room without disturbing him, put the dish into the sink with a thud to wake him up, and went back into the room. He seemed quite annoyed already that he didn't protest further. He just woke up, walked into the room in his sleep, and crashed beside me without his dinner.
"The game begins." I whispered to him, as I pulled the covers over my body and he wrapped his arm around my waist.
***
It was the morning of the wedding and I was all the more prepared to instigate my husband with my silly tricks. I chose to wear a red and white lehenga saree.
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