Luv (Un)Arranged (Luv Shuv #3)

Chapter 26

26

Song: Lazy Lad

- Richa Sharma

Kriti

“ O h my god, Meera, my class went so well today,” I whisper-shrieked as soon as I sat beside Meera in the staff room.

She instantly closed the notebook she was correcting and gave me her full attention, her lips stretched wide in a smile. “That’s so great, Kriti. Didn’t I tell you? It’s only a matter of time.”

From the moment I’d turned on the projector in the classroom and started my slide, all the students focused. Their attention was glued to me and the presentation. Some of them even raised their hands to ask questions. I turned to Meera and squeezed her hand. “It’s all thanks to you, Abhi, and Karan. I wouldn’t even have thought about trying the digital approach.”

Meera’s cheeks reddened at my gratefulness. “It’s only because I’ve seen other teachers do it.”

“Whatever the reason, you absolutely made my day. And we need to celebrate.”

She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “What were you thinking?”

“Let’s go to a mall after school. We’ll grab some lunch and do some shopping. It’s been so long since it’s just been us.”

Meera’s eyes brightened with excitement, and she nodded. “Yes, yes. That’s a great idea.”

Maybe I should invite Ria as well. I turned to Meera and asked, “Do you mind if I invite Ria?”

When she shook her head, I called her.

“Hello, Kriti, everything alright?” she answered, and I realized I hadn’t ever called her to just chitchat.

“Hey, Ria, everything is fine. Great, even. Remember the presentation Abhi, Karan, and I were working on? It went great.”

“Oh, that’s amazing. Abhi is going to lose his shit.”

I laughed. “Yes, I’ll tell him myself, so don’t tell him anything.”

“Of course.”

“So I was calling to ask if you’d like to join Meera and me for some food and shopping. We’re going to the mall.”

She groaned at that. “Oh my god, yes. I absolutely need a break from work right now; otherwise, I’m going to kill someone.”

I chuckled, and we decided on a time and place. I reminded her to tell Maa and the aunties that we wouldn’t be having lunch at home and that we’d be late.

The rest of the day passed in a hazy bubble of happiness as motivation pumped through my veins. I felt more and more determined to make presentations and explore other digital ideas for all of my subjects in all of my grades.

Now, I’d just have to save up a little to buy my own laptop so I won’t monopolize Abhi’s time.

Meera and I arrived at the mall after school and ran into Ria near the entrance. We were all famished and went to the food court. The entire way, Ria caught Meera up to speed on how she hated her coworker Zayan.

She was still on her tangent as she slammed her food tray on our table and took a seat across from us. “And you know how that asshole dresses?”

Meera had a wide smile on her face. So did I. It was a riot to watch Ria fume and fumble and see her eyes turn into slits like a snake when she talked about Zayan. “Suit with a tie.”

“And?” Meera asked.

Ria’s eyes widened in outrage as she took a big bite of her burger. “Who the fuck wears a suit and tie in this heat of Ahmedabad? Even our boss doesn’t wear a suit and tie. He’s such a pompous, arrogant narcissist…”

Her rant continued throughout lunch and all the way through window shopping.

Right till my feet dragged me inside a shop with the prettiest dresses. Ria and Meera also looked at the dresses in wonder.

Ria gasped. “They’re so pretty. We must try some of these on and get them.”

Living in the village and working as a teacher never really gave me the opportunity to wear dresses. Our usual dress code was a traditional Indian salwar kameez or a saree. I wore a few dresses in my home, but that was about it. I didn’t even know if they would look good on me.

Meera must’ve noticed my silence. “You have to at least try them on, Kriti.”

I nodded and started to pick a few of them in the large size. Whenever I saw others pick a dress size smaller than me, my insecurity would rear its ugly head, preventing me from enjoying the clothes that looked nice on me. And for years, I’ve actively focused on noticing it creeping up and stomping on those thoughts and insecurities by deliberately trying on even more dresses. Just because only I have to find myself beautiful. If I can’t love myself, how could I ever expect someone else to?

So I picked up six pretty dresses and followed Meera and Ria into the changing rooms.

The three of us took turns changing and showing off the dresses.

Meera went first. She’d always been slim with delicate curves, so she went with something flowy to add a curvy silhouette to her body. We oohed and aahed at the wonderful prints and patterns. One of them was a backless dress, and Ria and I were adamant that she had to get it.

“Luke is going to go nuts,” Meera mumbled, her cheeks going red as her lips twitched in a smirk.

She was crazy if she thought he would only lose it. “Damn right, he is. He goes nuts even when you’re just dressed in your usual salwar kameez. He won’t let you leave your bed for the whole day. Definitely send your maa and Hari to our place for the weekend before you wear this dress.”

Ria started to laugh and nodded at her. “This dress will give you guys a second honeymoon,” she said, and we all giggled.

The next was Ria, and she had such a gorgeous body. She was all soft and curvy in the best places, and she knew it. She carried her body with the confidence I was determined to pull off for my own.

After trying on a few dresses she wasn’t a fan of, she came out of the changing room in a beautiful blood-red dress that stopped slightly above her knees. It was a sleeveless dress with a V-shaped neck that showed just the right amount of cleavage. Meera’s jaw hung open as Ria unclipped her wavy hair and arranged it to turn herself into a badass beauty.

“You look like a James Bond heroine,” I marveled.

Ria turned this way and that, checking herself out, and her lips twitched in a smirk as she said, “I’m totally getting this dress. It would knock that Zayan on his ass.”

Since when did people start buying incredibly hot dresses for their enemies?

And because my mouth had no filter, I teased, “Oooh, so Zayan would like this dress, huh?”

Meera pretended to cough to try to hide her smile as Ria sputtered and said, “Umm…If that’s the only way to shut him up for a few hours, it would be totally worth it.

“Ahh. Makes total sense,” I deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes, but I didn’t miss her smile as she quickly entered the changing room.

Once she was done trying on her clothes, it was finally my turn. As I tried on some great A-line dresses and wraparounds, Meera and Ria oohed and aahed. But then I tried on the dress. The dress that put all others to shame, the dress that made you feel sexy, bold, and a knockout, the dress that you just knew you would wear with all the confidence in the world.

I didn’t even need any reaction from Meera or Ria, but as soon as I stepped out of my changing room, I heard their gasps, and their eyes widened in appreciation.

“Yes, absolutely yes,” Ria said.

At the same time, Meera said, “You’re buying it.”

I twirled around, checking myself out, loving myself, and bought that dress.

I didn’t know about Zayan, but Aakar would definitely lose his mind when he saw me in this dress.

Maybe I would give him his very own private show.

I sat at the dining table working on my next presentation when Aakar placed a soft kiss on my head and took a seat across from me with his own work. The rest of the family, excluding Abhi and Ria, watched television in the living room.

We’d already had dinner, and I’d helped in preparation, serving, and cleaning up. I was used to cleaning up after five people before the wedding, but fourteen people was so much. And with three young kids constantly running around the house, their moms busy screaming after them to get their studying done, I found more and more chores to do.

For the past two hours, I had to get up and help find Soham, Ria’s younger brother, his notebook because I must remember where he placed it after I helped him with his homework. I had to get Pappa his mukhwas, make a mango shake for the grandparents, and get up to collect all the dirty utensils from the living room so they didn’t have to get up between their soap operas. And since Aakar had come home late from work, I had to reheat everything for him, serve him as he freshened up, and pick up after him.

I was exhausted, but I still had work to do. If only people would just give me one fucking hour to focus.

And with learning to prepare these presentations, my life turned out to be one task after another. Since today’s presentation went well, and my next presentation wasn’t for two more days, I decided to give this one a shot myself. I wasn’t really as fast as Abhi and Karan in researching great pictures or making those nice animations with the moving arrows and sliding images, but I was trying.

We were working quietly for a while when the elder auntie called out to me, “Beta, would you get a cold jug of water from the fridge?”

I couldn’t help the sigh that escaped my lips. I looked at Aakar, but he was immersed in his screen, typing away something furiously.

I got up and went to the kitchen, convincing myself the whole time that she only asked me because she must be tired too, and I was closer to the kitchen. She didn’t mean to make me get up in the middle of my never-ending work.

I handed her the water and was about to sit when Aakar said, “Could you get me a glass of water too, baby?”

Excuse me! Did he not see that I was working too? What was it with these people constantly asking me for things? For once, could they not get their own stuff? My mom and dad never asked me for stuff when I was working, and here I was, constantly running around taking orders from so many people.

And I could deal with the elders. But Aakar? Absolutely not.

So I met his eyes, took my seat, and said, “No. You can get it yourself.”

His eyes widened, and he sputtered, “But you were just standing.”

What a stellar argument. “And now, I am sitting. And working.”

His jaw tightened. “I was working too.”

I clenched my jaw so I wouldn’t raise my voice and alert the rest of the family members who were sitting right behind the wall that separated the living room from the dining room. “If I keep running around, handing out people’s orders, I will never be able to work myself.”

His eyebrows scrunched up, and he mumbled, “Do we have a problem here?”

How could he not fucking tell?

He must have read the outrage on my face, so he got up and stood at my chair. “Let’s go.”

My eyes widened in rage and confusion. With clenched teeth, I got the words out without screaming my head off. “I’m trying to get some work done. That’s the whole point. I need to work. I can’t stop.”

“I’ll help you with your work, but we’re going out. Right. Now.” He had the audacity to utter the last two words with clenched teeth in a tone that was an order laced with anger.

My stomach burned with the need to scream, and I would’ve slammed the laptop screen closed if it was my computer, but I lightly closed it and turned to Aakar. I raised my hand, indicating for him to go first without uttering a word. Because if I did, things would turn ugly.

He walked to the living room and said, “Kriti and I are going out for a while.”

Without waiting for anyone to say anything, he picked up his keys from the key stand at the entrance and walked out of the house.

We didn’t say anything to each other as we got inside the car. The moment I had my seat belt on, he floored the gas, and we were out on the street.

We lived in an area a little farther from the more traffic-laden parts of the town. Aakar took some back road that led even farther away from the main city. We didn’t exchange any words as he continued to take some winding turns, eventually leading us to a secluded road and parking the car under a tree between two already parked cars.

The moment he turned off the car, a sudden silence filled the cab.

I could feel Aakar’s eyes on me, but I just couldn’t look at him. Instead, I stared ahead, looking at nothing.

“You’ve got nothing to say now?” Aakar asked. I could see him shake his head from the corner of my eye.

I couldn’t stop from rolling my eyes. “Where do I even begin?”

Aakar scoffed. “How about why you were so rude to me when I simply asked you for a glass of water when you were already standing?”

I turned in my seat to face him and looked him dead in the eyes, letting him see my anger, my hurt. Rage clouded my vision at the reminder, the sharp sting of the blame hurting my heart. “Because you could get it yourself,” I yelled.

His eyes widened. “I was exhausted from work, and I still had so much more work to do. And you were already standing. It would’ve taken you not more than two minutes. So why make such a big deal out of it?”

The fact that he was talking in such a calm voice, as if he was the rational one here, made my blood boil. I had to clench my teeth shut so as not to scream in his face when I said, “I was standing because I had to. Not because I wanted to. I was standing because your family constantly needs things and are very quick to shout out their requests. And I’m trying really fucking hard to be a good daughter-in-law and not say no.”

His eyes narrowed. “I see.”

I didn’t think he did. “What exactly do you see?”

“That it’s a burden for you to be there for my family, but are you saying your family never asked you for anything from the kitchen or other menial help?”

Oh my god. “You guys are fourteen people,” I shrieked. “Fourteen, Aakar. Not four. And I only had my mom and dad, who had some requests. I had two younger siblings who were quick to run and do some chores. And my family definitely didn’t blindly call out my name with requests when they knew I was working.”

He was about to say something, but I lifted my finger and silenced him. I had no inclination to hear him out because I knew he would argue with me, worsening this situation. I could see the defense in his eyes. So I continued, “I like your family. Don’t doubt that. I have no fucking issue with getting up and handing them whatever they want. But I really have a fucking problem when you become a part of that.”

His eyes widened at that, and I continued because I had a thousand words choking my throat. Now that I’d started talking about it, I physically could not stop. “You seem to have turned blind in the past few days because you’re not the only one exhausted from work. You’re not the one struggling to impress your superiors and your students. You’re not the one coming home and helping with the chores. You’re not the one helping pick up after three kids. You seem to have entirely forgotten that I’m not used to such a big family. Yes, I helped out in my family. But a little of my help was enough for my parents. No matter how much I do here, there’s still more to do.”

Aakar kept looking at me. Instead of anger and frustration, a little bit of understanding was shining through. But I wasn’t finished because the more I talked, the more my repressed emotions poured out. So I met his eyes and asked, “When was the last time you saw me simply hanging out with you and your family while you all watched TV or just chitchatted? You think I don’t want to sit and relax once in a while?

“You seem to turn a blind eye to the amount of time and effort I’m putting into my work and at home. So when you ask me to do even one more task, no matter how menial, it makes my blood boil. Not because I can’t manage it. But because you can. Because I expected help and support from you. And if you can’t do that, at least don’t make it worse. I can’t ask Pappa to get his own water, but I can ask you. And if you wanted a very obedient wife who doesn’t get mad that people are disturbing her while she’s working, you should’ve married someone who wanted to be a housewife.”

Aakar stared at his folded hands on his lap, his lips downturned.

I was finally done speaking my mind, so I simply stared out the car window. We hadn’t turned on any music, so we were just sitting in silence. I waited for him to say something before another wave of anger showed up, and I gave him a piece of my mind.

Warmth engulfed my hand, and I looked down at my lap to find Aakar clutching it. When I looked at him, he was staring at his hand holding mine, his jaw clenching as he seemed to try to get his words out.

He pulled my hand and brought it to his own lap, holding it with both of his hands. “I never wanted to be this guy.”

“What guy?” I asked, almost sure what he meant but needed to hear him say it.

He sighed and played with my fingers. “The guy who forgets himself when he gets a wife. The guy who forgets that his wife is her own person and not there to service him and his family. The guy who forgets all the promises he made to the girl to get her to marry him.”

He pressed his lips tighter and looked at me. “I’m really sorry, Kriti. I forgot myself, and I shouldn’t have been a selfish asshole.”

My heart clenched at the apology, and I could only nod. So he continued, “I was seeing how hard you were working, and instead of being helpful, I made things more difficult for you. And I feel so stupid and like a jerk for not doing something about it.”

His stupid words and his soft eyes full of guilt were softening my heart, dammit. I squeezed my hand in his. “You’re not so bad, Aakar. It’s not like you ask much from me.” I sighed, not wanting him to feel like he couldn’t ask me for any help or support. “It’s just, you don’t see people disturbing you or Ria or even Abhi when you are working. And I know that your family isn’t intentionally trying to discriminate, but sometimes it feels that way. So I have this big bucket of emotions piling on inside me drop by drop, and when you even ask for a very minor thing at the wrong time, that one drop of my frustration tips over my emotional bucket. I don’t know if I’m making sense.”

He gave me a small smile and nodded. “Makes perfect sense to me.”

I gave him a small smile in return. “I don’t want you to think that you can’t come to me for any help and support. I married you first and your family second.”

He lifted my hand to his lips and gave me a soft kiss on my ring finger. “I know, baby. I will always come to you for your help and support. I’ll just not partake in filling up your emotional bucket. I’ll have to come with my emotional cup and start emptying your emotional bucket. I promise you. I will start taking care of you, your needs, your work, and your time more.”

My nose tingled with the incoming tears, and I tried to stop them, but a silly little one just streamed down my cheek. Before I could wipe it off, Aakar was there. “That’s the last one because of me.”

I met his eyes and saw guilt, resolution, and promise all reflected in them.

Clutching his T-shirt, I pulled him closer. He sealed his lips on mine, showing me how apologetic he was with his soft kisses and how he would make it better with the rough pulls on my lips.

He kissed me in apology over and over.

And I kissed him in forgiveness, hoping and praying that he was right.

Aakar

I clasped Kriti’s hand that I’d placed on my leg as I drove us to an ice cream parlor. I ran my thumb over her fingers, lost in thought. When did I start taking Kriti for granted? Was there one particular occasion? Or did I not even realize that I wasn’t exactly being a helpful husband?

My family was always in an on mode, and our house was always a mess with the kids playing around. But it was never supposed to be Kriti’s job to run after them or clean up after them. And she was right. I never saw Maa or kaki calling Ria or me to help them out around the house. Then why did they keep disturbing Kriti? Was it deliberate, or had the societal norms subconsciously made them act like this? Because I knew Maa, Pappa, and all my family loved Kriti.

How did I become so much of an asshole that my own wife had to tell me that if I couldn’t help, I should at least not make things worse for her?

My stomach recoiled at her words because I knew that every one of them was true. And I realized that it wasn’t that I’d been asking too much from her, but I seemed to have not taken an active role in making my wife comfortable in her new home. Because that was what it was.

This was her home. Her family. And it was my job to make her feel at home with me and my family. And I was failing at the one job that I had as her husband. My heart pounded, and my hands turned sweaty at the thought of how much worse I could’ve gotten if Kriti hadn’t held me accountable. What if she had chosen to suffer silently instead of speaking up?

My hand tightened around hers, and I quickly looked at her.

She stared at the road ahead, lost in her own thoughts.

Her face was a lot more relaxed than before, but there still seemed to be some lingering hard feelings as she kept silent, not initiating any conversation.

I wanted to apologize again and again, but what good would that do if I didn’t back it with actions? I’d have to prove to her that I was worthy of being a good husband, that she wasn’t here to serve me or my family but to be a part of it. That I would take care of her as much as I did my family.

Thinking about how hard she’d been working on her presentation, my insides burned at the thought that even my own brother might have been more helpful to my wife than me.

Never again.

I saw the ice cream parlor up ahead and gave the right-turn indicator in my car. I parked the car outside the little café and turned to Kriti. “Want to sit inside or get the ice cream and eat it in the car?”

She looked at the café and scrunched her face. How could I hurt such an adorable person? She turned to me and said, “There don’t seem to be many people inside. I don’t mind sitting inside the café.”

I gave her a smile and squeezed her hand. “Let’s go.”

The moment we stepped in, the sweet, sugary aroma of ice cream greeted us. The latest Bollywood songs played on a low volume through the overhead speakers. The cool air of the air-conditioned café and the music seemed to pull me out of the heavy guilt sitting on my chest. I turned to Kriti to find her lips stretched wide in an excited smile, looking at all the different ice cream flavors.

I stood beside her, and for the first time since getting married, I hesitated before placing my hand on her back. But when she slowly moved further into my arms, my heart sang in relief, and I quickly placed a soft kiss on the side of her head. “What would you like to have?”

She tasted a few flavors, chitchatting with the guy at the counter as he handed her little spoonfuls of ice cream while I quietly stood behind her, occasionally tasting a few bites that she shared with me, giving me small smiles in between.

She chose raspberry sorbet with chocolate ice cream, while I went for a scoop of coconut flavor.

The café had warm yellow lights and was decorated with large plants in corners with barely ten wooden chairs and tables. At almost eleven at night, only one other couple sat in the café. We took a seat at the other corner, wanting some semblance of privacy.

The moment we sat with the ice creams, I clutched Kriti’s hand, and that had her meeting my eyes. “I’m really sorry, baby. I’m going to be better, I promise.”

I had no excuse. No explanation for my behavior.

She gave me a small smile and looked down at our joined hands. She bit her lip as if wondering if she should say whatever she wanted to say. So I kept quiet and waited for her.

She sighed softly. “On the one hand, I’m so mad at you that you’ve been so obtuse and taking me for granted. But on the other hand, I feel guilty for making a big deal out of everything. I mean, I married you willingly. I knew I was getting into a large family, and I thought I was prepared to be like those kick-ass wives who can run a household and earn a living while taking care of their family. But it's just that seeing everybody sitting around, watching TV, while I’m running around the house while trying to work makes me…I don’t know…disappointed, angry, and a whole lot of negative emotions. And I know they don’t mean anything by it, but I can’t stand it from you .”

Every word was like a hammer to my pride. My hand tightened around hers, and I said, “Don’t ever hide your true feelings from me. And as much as it makes me want to dig a hole and hide my face in it, I’m so proud of you for standing your ground.”

She turned her hand so our fingers intertwined. I looked at her, watching our joined hands. I caressed her thumb softly and waited for her to meet my eyes. A beat passed, and then two, and she finally looked at me.

Her eyes still held shreds of disappointment and hurt. I brought our joined hands to my lips and softly kissed her hand, making her breath hitch.

I vowed to bring about some changes in the house because the thought of Kriti not feeling at home with me was intolerable.

Everyone had already gone to sleep when we returned home a little after midnight. I held Kriti close to my chest that night as we got into bed. Her curves, the softness of her body, and the feel of her skin against mine, like always, made me wild for her. I wanted to devour her, consume her, keep her forever tucked in my arms.

But I had fucked up. And as much as I wanted to show her how utterly mad I was for her, I needed to hold her in my arms. I needed to feel her go soft against my chest. I needed to whisper soft murmurs of apology. I needed to smell her divine rose scent as I placed soft kisses along her neck.

That night, I made a hundred apologies to my wife, and I made one promise to myself.

My wife would feel at home with me. My wife would feel comfortable enough to say no to the elders. My wife would be happy with me.