I Am His Bride… { An Indian Bl Saga } Asking him to Grab a Coffee.

ARTHIT:

After the marriage, I got too busy and never got a chance to meet up with Zayn. I didn’t really know what to say to him. I could not begin the conversation like ‘Hey I know we broke up a long time ago but I realized that you were the one for me, so can we go out again?’ Another thought that plagued me was what was a brilliant student like Zayn Murad doing as a wedding planner?

He used to be the top student in his batch of business management. Hell, I even remember that both of his parents were business entrepreneurs. What had happened that his life changed so much? Did he really come out as he promised me, he would? Did his parents not support him? Did they disown him?

Such questions plagued my mind but the most prominent one was ‘Is he still single? Or has he moved on?’ I could never blame him though if he has.

Before I could go any deeper into my thoughts, aunty called me away. The night was enjoyable and it helped to keep my mind of Zayn with the silly games we played. The next day after we returned home, I was again made a house servant to help with the preparation and then for cleaning after the rituals were done. I helped bhabi with her saree. The poor girl was just 18! No one could expect her to know how to wear a saree.

But I noticed one thing about her. She seemed to be afraid. Our family had accepted her pretty well, if you don’t count my stupid brother in. Ashwin was still sulking away but I kind of understood him. He had never met the girl before and I would pride myself to say that he is a pathetic virgin.

Every time someone showed a bit of care or looked at her lovingly, she was moved. It was as if she had longed for affection the whole of her life. But that was the point that made me suspicious. As far as I knew, Divya was a single child who was pampered to no limits by her parents, so why did she appeared so starved of love? Was something being hidden form the apparent eye or was I reading too much into her behavior?

The next day was the reception. From the morning to the afternoon, I didn’t get the time to even breathe. Finally, when I was about to reach the fair haven of my room to catch a bit of sleep, bari ma stopped me and sent me with a list of rules to be delivered to bhabi. She understood that the girl needed to be with someone of her age and in our family, only I was such a person who was a bit close.

I was moved when she asked if Ash hated her. Her eyes contained so many untold emotions that I couldn’t even decipher half of them – but the most prominent one was guilt. The poor girl was beating herself up for destroying my cousin’s life. I consoled her to the best of my ability and shared the few rules. Just as we finished, aunty dragged her away for getting her decked up for the ceremony and I went on my way. I dressed up as good as I could in the short time. Donning a prussian blue punjabi coupled with pale white pants, I devoted the rest of my attention to my hair.

Somehow, I had a feeling that Zayn would be there for the reception as well and I was determined to look good for him. After a thirty minutes long fight with my hair, I finally got it done in a sexy tousled way. I got to the huge backyard of our mansion where the ceremony was being held. It was my duty to check that the preparations went well and sure they did. After strolling around for an hour, I saw Zayn. He was talking with a person who was arranging the flowers.

I took a deep breath to calm my fluttering nerves and made my way to him. He was looking so good in his tight-fitting tux, that I had to use up all of my self-control not to jump him then and there. I cleared my throat and called, “Excuse me.” He turned. His expression turned to astonished for a moment before he schooled it down to a polite smile, “yes sir. How may I help you?”

“Can we talk somewhere more private?”

He nodded and I dragged him to a secluded corner. My emotions were all over the place. I had finally got a chance to talk with him but my nerves were getting the best of me. Seeing me quiet for a long time he interrupted, “Sir, if you don’t have anything to say, can I return to my work? A lot is still left to be done.” I flinched at the formal cold emotionless voice of his. I stuttered, “Zayn, I am so sorry. I know I was very wrong but would you like to grab a coffee with me later this week. We can talk then.”

“Why? To let you make me suffer once again?”

“Zayn believe me if I could, I would turn back time. Breaking up with you is the biggest regret of my life. I don’t expect you to go back to dating with me. But just let’s hang out for a while? Just as friends if not anything more? I have missed you a lot in the past three years and I would have to lose a friend like you Zayn.”

“Fine”, he relented. “The Nutcracker. Sunday – 7 p.m. sharp.”

“Thank you for giving me another chance.”

“Now, if you would sir, I would like to take my leave.”

He left me standing there. But a part of me was happy. I wanted to make amends. I wanted to forget the past and make new happy memories with him if he would let me. I was sure of one thing – I could not live without Zayn Murad in my life.  

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Here is another update for today. Arthit and Zayn both need the love. Should I give it to them or should I push them apart? Decision will be based on the wishes of readers but mine is final. Enjoy.

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Until next time. Hope to update soon.