I turned on my side and came face to face with dear husband. God forbid! He was handsome up close. But Arunima! We are not going to admire this handsome looking fool. He may look all attractive, but when he opens his mouth, he always ends up offending me.

"Kya chahiye apko?"(What do you want?)

"Baat karo mujhse."( Talk to me.)

I rolled my eyes, "Mausam bahut acha hai aaj."(The weather is good today.)

I folded my hands in front of me to safeguard my little heart from jumping out of my body and going to his. Either men are really very warm, or they have some issue with their thermostat.

He chuckled. The sound reverberating through me even when my hands were separating us.

"Mausam bahut acha hai...bas meri biwi thodi upset hai."

(The weather is indeed good. However, my wife is a little upset.)

My anger flared at that. God! I need patience with this man.

I sat up immediately, "You called me 'available'! You get that! I have been unavailable to that race of men out there, only to be called available by my husband! You expect me to shower flowers on you??? Come out of your wedding hangover Mr.Rathore!"

He looked attacked and shocked at my anger. But I felt better. Who cares if I fought with my husband on the fourth night of our marriage? I am not keeping appearances if he's not keeping me happy.

The shock soon transformed into guilt, and then he sat up, calmly, taking a deep breath, "I didn't mean it that way. Let's talk about...."

I shook my head, "No! We are not talking about it. You said something. I have registered it. Now no words of yours can make me forget that. Now that you know how i feel, let me sleep and you should sleep too. Without guilt for that matter! You didn't date me. You didn't have to woo me. You didn't have to get on your knees to propose me. So i must be looking 'available' to you. But mister!...", i grabbed the collar of his t-shirt, "...i will give you a hard time. A very hard time."

His eyes darkened at my challenge, and I left his collar and then corrected it. Smiling viciously at his face, i titled my head, "Now Good night Abhimaan."

*

Peaceful. I felt peaceful in the mansion's garden as I continued writing my book. Life wasn't as bad as I imagined here. My in laws are good and accomodating. They have given me ample space and time to adjust to the changes here. I have not felt any stress about presenting myself in a certain way. Especially after the elaborated family left. They had a ritual of having breakfast together and then the evening tea, where all four of us, my dear husband included, would sit and discuss random things. These days, they have openly expressed their wish to know about me. And i try my best to tell them about myself. They seem genuinely curious. Abhimaan stays quiet as I narrate about my experiences to his parents. Something i appreciate.

On the first day, I told them I like to write in a serene and open environment. Next day, when I woke up, a shaded area was being installed in the garden, just outside my balcony, where a comfortable table and chair was set up, specially for me to write. There was a lounge chair there. I got to know this was done by my father in law, who thought staying in his son's room or study may bore me, since his son's aesthetics were quite bland. Something I agree upon, much to the offence of the subject.

It was late in the evening when I heard a sound from behind me and turned to see dear husband strolling in, with two mugs- probably coffee.

"When did you come?", I asked.

"Hello to you too Biwi. I came half an hour ago, when you were deep into your writing."

I nodded, a little delighted at the fact that I am being served coffee. Nothing better at the moment.

"Ma Papa kab aayenge?", I asked, and he sighed sitting next to my table, by bringing the lounge chair close.

(When will Ma Papa come?)

"Mere saath acha nahi lag raha?"

(Why? You don't like to stay with me?)

I was tempted to shake my head to tease him, but the angel on my shoulder reprimanded me before i could.

"Nahi.. aisa nahi hai. It was our tea time."

(Not like that.)

He shrugged, "Mishra Uncle is his very good friend. His son is getting married and they have hosted a dinner to announce it. So they are not coming before midnight."

His large frame made this space look small. Or I can blame myself for focusing so much on his presence.

"The coffee is really good.", i commented. It was just as I like. Thick, frothy and gently sweet.

Amusement flickered in his eyes, and he sipped his own coffee, "It's good. But the one who made it- he's really good."

My mouth formed an oh as realisation dawned upon me. So dear husband has not ordered someone to make it. He made it himself. Cool. Now we have a servant for our coffee dates- i mentally noted to my books.

But I had to reply, "He's not that good. He's just smug."

That made him frown. His eyes falling upon me.

He stayed quiet for a moment before asking his next question that threw me off the guards.

"Do you like me Arunima? Like even a bit."

Like? Him? I had no answer to that. I haven't thought about it. It's almost a week since we married, and i have not decided if I like my husband or not.

"Why do you ask?", i questioned instead. What do I answer him? That yes! Physically i like you. You're very attractive to me. And behaviour wise- i like you a few times, but I don't most of the time.

He shrugged, "I just felt like asking. You know- we don't have that..."

"What is it that we don't have?", i prompted but he looked at loss of words.

I understood though. We were not that lovey dovey couple, being shy and expressing love in every other sentence. Infact, we tried hard to not offend each other, something we most likely did every now and then.

Something told me that right now, the ball was in my court. It was me who could give direction to whatever we had.

And so I did.

"I like you. I like you when you put efforts to make this coffee for us. I like you when you send me brownies. I like you when you try to convince me out of my anger. I like you when you offend your buaji for me. Or when you try to mingle with my family. Or when you try to know about me with genuine interest."

For once, I saw that rare smile adorning his face. He looked so beautiful at that moment. Leaned back on his chair, staring at me and smiling at my words.

But as much as I love that smile, I needed to continue.

"But... I don't like you when you act uncaring. With your words especially. I don't like you when you try your best to hide your smiles from me- while you are all smiley emoji in front of your parents. I also don't like you when you pretend to be unbothered about me. There are times when I see you are amused at something i comment, but you'd try hard not to show me."

My complaints- they drew his attention because he seemed genuinely concerned. Good for you. I wasn't the one to stay silent for long.

He stayed quiet after that. I finished my coffee, waiting for his reply, but also pretending to not care. But I did.

Just as I placed my empty cup back on the table, a hand landed in front of me.

I looked up at him, and he signalled back at his hand. I took it and then he stood up, beckoning me to follow. I followed him till we reached his car.

"Kahan ja rahe hai humlog?"

My question was answered with a smile, "Dinner pe."

I stopped immediately, "Wait! I am not even dressed properly."

I was wearing a pastel blue anarkali, but my hair was up in a clutcher. I wasn't looking bad, but I was also not looking upto the mark.

He looked at me, top to bottom, and then forwarded his hand, and in a swift motion unclutched my hair. Pushing my now free hair behind my ear, he said, "You look absolutely beautiful right now. Now get seated."

I noticed how he stuffed my clutcher in his hoodie pocket, and opened the car door for me.

"Abhimaan! My book is still under the shade. If it gets lost, I'll kill you."

He shook his head, and then signalled someone. The guard at the periphery of the gate came.

"Go under that new shade and grab all the stationary kept there. Be careful. It's important. Keep it in my bedroom. On the study table that is. And update me once it is done."

With that, he took the driver's seat and then fully turned to me.

"We are not leaving unless he calls. Don't want to be killed by you."

I huffed, "I would have done that myself. Bechare guard ko pareshan kiya.."

(Why did you bother the guard?)

"Paise milte hain unko iske..."

(He gets paid for that...)

We sat silently waiting for the call. I was huffing and puffing. Instead of giving me a straight answer, he is taking me for dinner. I don't disapprove of dinners but he should have atleast given me a decent reply like- 'Yes Arunima. I know. I am absolutely wrong.' or 'Yes Arunima. I know. You are absolutely right.'

My big head, it already knew I was at the right place telling him everything honestly. It was better than playing the cat and mouse. Me being cat.

We both jumped out of our thoughts when his phone rang, and he picked it up, putting it on speaker.

"Sir. I have kept the stationary on your study table."

"You sure the pages of that diary are not crippled or you manhandled them?"

The man on the other side hesitated, while I looked at him bored. He was trying to tease me. Jaahil Admi. Didn't understand my love for stationary.

"Uh..No sir. I kept it as it was."

"Thank you!", i chimed loudly on the phone and then abruptly ended the call. This guy will be the death of me. Literally not figuratively.

"Ab chalein??", I asked him with a wide smile, the corners of my lips threatening him to save his life.

He nodded and then started his car, thankfully moving ahead, to what I assumed a fancy dinner.

*

If sitting by the river front, on one of those benches, cross legged, facing one another, with two boxes of pizza counted as a fancy dinner, I'll probably go on dinner every damn night. With him. Without him.

"You don't like extra cheese?", he asked.

I shook my head, "I don't like feeling extremely guilty after having a pizza. I like feeling less guilty."

He nodded, "I'll spend two hours more in the gym tomorrow."

Hmm. Explains his wide and prominent structure. He was one of those big men, who cover your space even when not wanting to. That fit and fine figure, was accentuated with veiny hands, and his sleeves- they were always folded upto his elbow when he was not wearing a blazer. Even while having a pizza, they probed every time he folded his hand.

"What are you looking at?", his question snapped me out of my oogling session. I looked away, worried i might have given away more than I intended too.

"That man behind you. He's handsome.", I said and that made him frown. He immediately turned and saw a man in his sixties walking with his wife, most probably. The two of them were laughing at something.

His frown deepened as he looked back at me, "Don't look at him. You've come on a date with me. Look at me."

I rolled my eyes, "You are not that handsome. And when did you ask me for a date?"

"I am very handsome. And if a husband wife go out for dinner- it's naturally a date."

I shook my head, "Not with you. You don't know chivalry."

"I just don't do pretentious things. Some things are as good as simple."

Simple. I scoffed. Ask a romance writer about what they expect from their husband! I expect that too. And see what I am getting.

Like yes! A part of me knows- fictional men are just that- fiction. But a woman can fantasize! Can't she!? And a husband must try to atleast be a little like those beautiful fictional men.

I guess after reading about so many good men in my life, I'll always find him inadequate. But I knew- he was being a Jaahil Admi with me.

I shut my mouth. He has not replied to my earlier long monologue. I told him I liked him when, i didn't like him when. And he had nothing to do other than grabbing my hand and pulling me to this so called 'date'.

"Why did you stop talking?", he asked, glancing my way.

I shrugged, my frustration bubbling over, "I just don't do pretentious talk. Some talking is good only when it's leading to a point."

I didn't look at him after that. The river looked better. Thankfully the pizza was good too.

I am just not feeling it in this marriage. It looks like I am saying too much, because this man says nothing. And what he says, it always ends up frustrating me.

"What chivalry do you want me to adopt? I can improve myself."

He came after discarding the pizza boxes, when I had already started walking along the river bank. The water was running, apparently slow, but it was fast enough to produce sound that calmed me.

I looked at him, and shook my head, "You don't have to. It's fine. I am sorry for complaining every now and then."

He looked taken aback, and stopped as I kept walking ahead.

Seconds later, he followed me, his steps hastening, "I didn't say it that way Arunima...i...I just... I haven't done all this anytime before. I don't know how to..."

"Yeah! And i have an experience of One-Fifty marriages. Tell me why were you hell bent on marrying me if you didn't know it all??"

And with that...I stopped.

"Wait! You haven't yet told me why you wanted to marry me. And don't give me that 'available' answer or I will surely kill you dear husband!"

I stood firm. I needed an answer. If he can't give me all that extra stuff, I at least needed answers.

He open and closed his mouth, resembling an innocent puppy, but I wasn't going to let go this time. I can even sit here on a strike and demand my answers.

"And if you don't give me an honest answer today, I am going to stand here, beside this river, for the whole night."

Even better. I smirked internally.

His eyes widened. His fingers traversed through his hair as if he was in deep dilemma. And then he sighed as if the weight of this world was bestowed upon him.

To my extreme distaste, he stood there, making faces and sighing again and again, without uttering a single word, like this answer was a punishment on him. I was thinking blackmailing wasn't right but his behaviour ended up making me curious. What could be his reason that he's so worried!

I folded my hands, the cool breeze from the river, making me shiver. He looked at me, and then said, "Let's sit in the car. It's getting cold here. I don't even have a jacket."

My heart fluttered imagining him removing his jacket and draping me in it. But that was just my imagination because sir was in a sweatshirt. I rolled my eyes, and turned towards the river, "I am not going anywhere unless I get my answer."

"Bahot ziddi ho tum!"( You are so stubborn.)

I smirked to myself, "Bohat zyada." (A lot.)

He sighed again, "Okay! I'll tell you. But promise me to not mention this again unless I do."

I squinted my eyebrows in doubt but nodded nonetheless, "i promise."

Now my anticipation was increasing. What is so bothersome about his reason that i don't have to mention it!?

And then he did. He finally said what I've been dying to hear since I first said yes to marry him. His reason.

"My masters in economics was from Imperial College. When it was my final year, you got admitted in your Bachelors of Literature. That was the first time I saw you. About five years ago. And that was the day I decided to marry you. Had to pull a few strings, find some common relative, get it all arranged, convinced Ma to ask for your hands in marriage. And so...here.."

My heart had stopped beating at his words. He knew me since five years! And i didn't even know about his existence. I knew his economics masters was from Imperial College but I didn't know the exact year. And he decided to marry me the same day he saw me? Like what on earth!!

"What did you see in me that you decided to marry me on the very day you first saw me???", I asked, my voice coming out squeaky due to the shock.

He shook his head.

"No questions. You promised."

"But... atleast..."

He shook his head, and came forward, almost closing the distance between us, "But nothing. I've told you something, that I've not uttered even to my mirror image. Now you got to stay patient and let things flow between us. Naturally."

"You're so bad!"

A smile came on his lips, "I am. But only for you."

My heart skipped several beats, and I had to look away, so as to not reveal the obvious blush that was warming my face.

My mind was jumbled and I was thinking of when he saw me, when was my first day at college, how did he really 'pull the strings' as he said.

"When will we talk about it now?", I asked, my earlier disdain washing away, like the river herself did the work.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, thinking hard. And then he said something.

Something that flickered a different kind of light in my heart.

"The day you'd say I've become the husband you desire."

*

Sleep evaded me that night. I wasn't that attractive in the first year of college that he decided to marry me on the first sight. I mean- was it love at first sight?? Oh Arunima! Don't raise your hopes that high. Love at first sight is a farce. He was also in his Masters. Surely he was not that genius that he judged me right on the very first sight.

Would things have been different if he approached me then?? In the college? May be i wouldn't have agreed that easily, but if he would have been a thorough gentleman, i would have considered him.

But what abo...

"Sleep Biwi! It's 2 in the night.", I looked at him, staring at me from his pillow.

"I am good."

He shook his head, "No you are not. Lie down..", he took my hand and pulled me closer. My breath hitched but I didn't protest. I've expressed my love for this man's broken thermostat.

When I was fully lying, he covered me with the blanket upto my neck, and kept his hand on my stomach lightly patting it, "Close your eyes and try sleeping."

"I am not a baby."

"Believe me. You are."

Huffing at him, i turned my back to him, but held his hand so as to keep it safe over me. When my back was flushed against him, did i feel good and relieved.

This man may be highly bothering, but sometimes I want nothing but his warmth.

I heard him making an amused sound, and then he shifted a bit to get comfortable.

"Are you comfortable?"

I nodded, and then he muttered a quiet good night into my ears, that melody lulling me to sleep.

*