Chapter 77: chapter 77

MADHAVI stare at the double cot in Sruthi’s room. There is no way in the world, I am sharing this piece of furniture with her. Though a part of me—the romantic and irrational one—is delighted about sharing this bed with her, another part—the logical and rational one—is not. There isn’t a huge difference between a double cot and a queen cot. Only six or seven inches of difference but it is different nonetheless and I am glad she doesn’t have a single cot like Vikram does. I am contemplating whether to sleep on the floor when the door opens and closes. I suck in a sharp breath as Sruthi walks to me. My back is still turned towards and I am trying to calm down my racing heart when she places a hand on my shoulder. I slowly turn towards her masking my desires and emotions. She is biting her lip and my eyes are instinctively drawn to them. God! Those lips! They will be the death of me one day. Seems like I am not the only one who is nervous and anxious today. I seriously wanted to kiss the breath out of her when she opened the door to me looking like a hot mess. At the same time, I wanted to talk to her about the heir issue but I chickened out the last minute. I am not sure what she thinks about it. I have no idea how to bring it up. So, I will just wait for her to bring it up. “I am sorry but there are not many pillows in the house,” she says apologetically and that is when I notice her holding a pillow in her hand. I get the pillow from her hand and place it on the left side of the bed.  The right side already has one pillow. I pull out my blanket from my trolley bag. I did have the foresight to pack the blanket but I must have taken a couple of pillows with me. The pillows always served as a boundary to us but today there isn’t going to be any boundary and it is going to take me a long time to fall asleep with Sruthi next to me. Sruthi settles in the bed and I avoid looking at her as I set my alarms for tomorrow morning. I plug my phone out of the charger and place it on the bedside table. When the rustling and shuffling of bedsheets subside, I place my blanket on my side of the bed. Sruthi is on the other edge. A little movement and I am afraid she might fall. Screw it! I am not going to share the bed with her today. I pick up the pillow and blanket. “What are you doing, Madhav?”“I will sleep on the floor,” I say.“Why?” Sruthi’s tone is sharp making me look at her.  “Are you perhaps afraid that I might do something when you sleep?”Oh, Honey! It is the other way around. I am afraid I won’t be able to fall asleep with you so close to me. Of course, I don’t say any of it, “Make yourself comfortable, Sruthi. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable in your bed.”She frowns at me, “So, you are really afraid that I would do something to you in your sleep.”“No, it is n-” I start to say but she cuts me off.“To think that a ruthless assassin like you is afraid of sharing a bed with your wife. Oh my, what a shame.”“Sruthi, I am not afraid,” I say in a frustrated tone.“Then sleep here next to me, Madhav. Prove me that you aren’t afraid of sleeping next to a woman. I promise not to lay a finger on you. You will be chaste in the morning.”She is goading me and the thing is though I know it, I still fall for it. With a huff of breath, I place the pillow and blanket on the bed. I switch off the lights and get in bed with her. The night is dark and silent. I can hear her breathing in the quiet night. I am lying on the side facing away from her. My mind is too loud and hyperfocused on all the sounds and noises Sruthi makes. She is still for a few seconds and I almost believe that she is asleep when something pokes me in the shoulder. With a sigh, I turn to her side and wow, the universe definitely has something against me. Because it loves tormenting me. Sruthi is right next to me. With minimal space between our bodies. Our bodies are nearly touching but not. It takes every ounce of self-control I have in me to not pounce on her and claim her. “Are you comfortable in the bed? Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere? Is that why you wanted to sleep on the floor?”God! This woman sure knows how to make my day. She is still worried about me getting comfortable in her home. What she doesn’t understand is that I will be comfortable wherever she is. I smile at her, “You know, Sruthi, stop treating me like royalty. I will be totally fine sleeping anywhere. It is not like I am the princess from the story ‘Princess and the Pea’.”Her jaw hangs open in shock, “How do you know about that fairytale?”I give her an amused smile, “Why wouldn’t I know about it? Is it some top secret?”“Huh? No, it is not something like that. I am just surprised that a man knows about children's fairytales,” her eyes twinkle in mischief, “Don’t tell me, Madhav, that your hobby is to read children's fairytales.”“As much as that seems to be an interesting hobby to have unfortunately for me, with the work I do for your brother and designing jewels and maintaining a popular jewellery franchise leaves me with no time for hobbies. So, no, I don’t have any hobbies.”“You sure do have a busy life,” says Sruthi with a shake of her head.“Anyways, if you are really curious as to how I know about that fairytale then that is something my mother and I used to read when I was a little boy,” I confess in a heavy tone. I usually avoid thinking about my mother at most times and I never talk about her with anyone. But something about Sruthi makes me open up about things.For the fourth time today, Sruthi surprises me again by closing that minimal distance between us. Her hands close around my neck and she snuggles closer to me. I am so taken aback by her that I am left speechless for a few seconds before I wrap my hands and pull her closer to me. We are cuddling in the bed. This is one of my wildest dreams come true. I am grinning all of a sudden. The heaviness I felt for a few seconds was nowhere to be seen. Her lavender smell soothes the ache in my heart and I love having her in my arms. “Do you want to talk about it, Madhav?” her voice is a gentle whisper nudging me to open up about things I never told anyone. “My mother was a big fan of fairytales. She firmly believed in happy endings and prince charmings. Maybe that is why she kept hoping for a happy ending with my father. Sadly, my father was no prince charming and she refused to accept it, Sruthi. If she had accepted that fact, then she would have left him and we wouldn’t have to go through that hell. She used to narrate all these fairytales to me when I was a kid and had trouble falling asleep. As a kid, I was fascinated by those stories and believed in happy endings like my mother. But, once I entered my teens, I realized how big a scam those stories were and there is no such thing as a ‘happy ending’.”“How many stories did she tell you?”“I don’t remember the exact number but I know about Cinderella, then that story about a beauty and animal-”“Beast,” Sruthi corrects and I nod my head.“The story about a sleeping princess, princess eating a poisoned apple-”“Snow White.”“Yeah and there are many stories that I found fascinating as a kid but now as an adult, it makes no sense.”“Like what?”“Hmm,” I say stroking Sruthi’s hair trying to remember the stories, “There was this one story where the princess kisses the frog and it turns into a handsome prince. I was so awed by that story that the following week after hearing that story, I chased frogs and wanted to test out that theory.”“WHAT??” Sruthi gasps in surprise. “Doesn’t that story say that the frog only turns into a prince when it is kissed by a princess? Princess is a girl and you are not.”I look away from her eyes. The thought process I had then was embarrassing to admit now but since I started to tell her, I will be fully honest with her, “I thought that if a boy kisses then the frog would become a beautiful princess.”Sruthi laughs, “Oh my God! Are you serious? But I can imagine why you thought like that. Anything is possible when we are kids. Tell me you didn’t catch any frogs.”I laugh remembering that incident, “I did catch one.” Sruthi looks horrified and I continue with a chuckle, “Don’t worry before, I could kiss it or try anything with it, my mother found me and I got a good beating for what I did.”“Thank God, you didn’t get your first kiss stolen by a frog,” Sruthi says in relief.“Though I was angry at that time, I am glad now that my mother found me when she did,” I say remembering the woman who gave birth to me. A silence falls between us. I feel light for the first time in many years when talking about my mother. Talking about her always brought heavy emotions to me. I felt betrayed and resented her for how she treated me but I now realise that she was also of victim of abuse like me. That has to be the only reason why I could never bring myself to hate her no matter how hard I tried.“Is there a story about a girl wearing a red hoodie?” I ask remembering vague memories of hearing something about it.“You mean Red Riding Hood?” Sruthi asks.“Yeah, that one. If you don’t mind, can you tell me that story?” I ask feeling nervous all of a sudden. Sruthi must have heard the trembling of my voice because she looks up to meet my eyes and  blood rush to my face. Her smile and slow and sweet, “You don’t have to be nervous about asking this to me. Remember, I am a pre-school teacher and I am the best person who could tell you this. I will tell you the story on one condition though.”“What is the condition?” I ask meeting her eyes that aren’t filled with judgment. She looks happy to tell me that story and I wish the smile on her face would stay there forever.“You must say ‘Hmm’ every once in a while to let me know you are listening,” she says.“Hmmm,” I say and she grins at me.She starts telling the story and I comply with her condition. One story turns into two and two into four and I am not sure when but at some point her soft voice lulls me into sleep.❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥