Chapter 41: ❗ 40 ❗

The room was silent except for her slow, even breathing.  Avni had finally fallen asleep.

For the past hour, I had watched her toss and turn, curling into herself, shifting every few minutes like she couldn't find a comfortable position.

I wasn't stupid. I knew she was in pain. The way she clenched her fists, the way her brows furrowed even in sleep—it was obvious.

And yet, she had the audacity to act like everything was fine.

I had seen this side of her before—the fierce independence, the refusal to show vulnerability, the stubborn pride. But tonight was different. Tonight, she was my wife. And whether she liked it or not, she wasn't alone anymore.

I sat on the armchair near the bed, my eyes fixed on her as the moonlight streamed through the window, casting soft shadows on her face.

She looked nothing like the fire-breathing woman who had been throwing insults at me just hours ago. Now, she just looked... exhausted.

Even in sleep, she seemed to be fighting something.

I sighed and lied on couch in the same room. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable when she is already in pain.

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I was awake before she was.  It wasn't like I had gotten much sleep anyway.

Between the unfamiliar presence of another person in my room, the endless thoughts about this unwanted marriage, and the occasional glances at her sleeping figure, the night had felt endless.

When the first rays of sunlight broke through the curtains, I finally stood up, stretching the stiffness from my muscles.

She was still curled up, the hot water bag still pressed to her stomach, her breathing soft and steady.  For a moment, I just watched her.

Then, I smirked.  "Rise and shine, Mrs Singhania," I drawled. No response.

I stepped closer. "Avni."  Nothing.

I leaned down slightly. "If you don't wake up in the next five seconds, I might just tell the entire family that you slept like a baby after clinging to me all night—"

Her eyes snapped open, and in one swift motion, a pillow came flying straight at my face.

I caught it mid-air, laughing. "Morning to you too."  She groaned, rubbing her temples. "Why are you like this?"

"Born this way, sweetheart."  She scowled, sitting up slowly. Her expression shifted almost immediately, and I knew why. The cramps were still there. She inhaled sharply, closing her eyes for a second.

I didn't say anything. Just walked to the side table, picked up a glass of water, and held it out.  She eyed it suspiciously. "What's that?"

"Water," I said dryly. "What else would it be? Poison?" She huffed but took it anyway, drinking slowly.

I crossed my arms. "You good, or are we canceling the rituals today?"  Her jaw clenched. "We're not canceling anything."

Of course. Stubborn as ever.

By the time we made it downstairs, the house was already buzzing with activity.  The elders were chatting, the younger cousins were running around, and the aroma of sweets and freshly brewed tea filled the air.

As soon as we stepped into the hall, all eyes were on us.  "Ah, there they are!" my mother beamed. "Finally awake?"

Avni tensed beside me. I smirked. "She wanted to sleep more, but I reminded her that we have a very important ritual today."  Avni shot me a glare.

"Oh yes!" One of the aunts clapped excitedly. "The rasoi rasam!"  I turned to Avni, enjoying the way she paled slightly. "You do know how to cook, right?"

She shot me a sickly sweet smile. "Of course. Just as well as you know how to shut up."  I laughed.

The elders ushered her toward the kitchen while I leaned back against the counter, watching with amusement.

"She has to make something sweet for the family," my mother explained proudly. "It symbolizes that she will bring happiness and prosperity to the house."

I raised a brow. "And what if she burns the kitchen down instead?"  Avni's hand twitched near a knife.

My mother smacked my arm. "Stop teasing her!"  I grinned but said nothing as Avni, still shooting me daggers with her eyes, and got to work.

To everyone's shock—including mine—she actually made something edible. Kheer.

The elders took turns tasting it, nodding approvingly, throwing praises her way.  I took a spoonful, expecting something barely tolerable, but to my surprise, it was... good.

I glanced at her. "Not bad, Mrs Singhania"  She scoffed. "I wasn't cooking for you, Mr Singhania."

I smirked. "Doesn't change the fact that I ate it."  She groaned.

The next ritual was the classic wedding game—finding the ring in the milk bowl.

We were both seated across from each other, a large silver bowl filled with milk, rose petals, and a single gold ring floating somewhere inside.

"The one who finds it first will rule the marriage," an elder declared. I leaned in, smirking. "Guess I'll be ruling you for the rest of our lives, then."

She rolled her eyes. "Keep dreaming, Mr husband." The moment we plunged our hands in, it was war.

She was fast, but I was faster. I brushed against the ring first, but before I could grab it, she pinched my wrist.  I flinched. "Ow! What the hell?"

She grinned, using the distraction to reach the ring and pull it out, holding it up victoriously.  The room erupted in cheers.

"She won!" someone shouted. "She'll be the boss in the marriage!" I shook my head, staring at her. "You cheated."

She batted her lashes. "Oh? I thought you liked playing dirty."  I laughed despite myself. "Touché, sweetheart.

She smirked, tucking the ring into her palm. "Better get used to losing, patidev."

I watched her, something unreadable settling in my chest.  This woman.

She was going to be the death of me.

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