Luv (Un)Arranged (Luv Shuv #3)

Aakar

My body roused with my hard cock flush against my wife’s ass. I nuzzled into her for a second before the previous night barrelled into my brain.

Her tears. Her claims that I didn’t love her. That I didn’t even know the meaning of love.

Fuck that.

I loved Kriti. I loved my wife to the point of madness. I wouldn’t feel like my life had lost its meaning without her in it if I didn’t love her. I wouldn’t feel like death would be an easier choice than leaving without her if I didn’t love her. I wouldn’t feel like the king of the world every time she gave me a smile if I didn’t love her. I wouldn’t be burying my face in her pillow just to be able to close my eyes at night if I didn’t love her.

Yes, I screwed up. Royally.

But surely, I wasn’t the first man in love who fucked up.

I was ready to beg every single day to convince Kriti to come back home with me.

I was ready to build her a new place if she’d rather not live with my family.

But I refused to let my wife think I didn’t love her.

I loved her.

And it was time I made her believe it.

Placing a featherlight kiss on her shoulder, I quietly got out of bed and went downstairs. After freshening up, I started to prepare chai and breakfast.

I put the potatoes on to boil as I quickly prepared the dough to make aloo paratha.

As the potatoes were still boiling, I opened my phone to check what I predicted would be a hundred missed messages.

Two hundred and thirty-six missed messages.

Ignoring all of them, I sent my own message in our thread.

Me: I have a plan. And I’ll need you guys.

I didn’t have to wait more than three seconds before messages started to flood in.

Abhi: When? Now?

Maa: What’s the plan?

Dad: You better tell your mother your plan before doing anything. I’m afraid you’ll make everything worse.

Ekta Kaki: Is it a romantic plan?

Maa: It better be a romantic plan.

Me: I’ll send you guys the details in the afternoon. I’m preparing aloo paratha for Kriti.

Maa: Do you even know how to make aloo paratha?

Abhi: Maa, there’s online videos and recipes.

Maa: Still. Don’t mess it up, Aakar.

Radhika Kaki: Are you making coriander chutney with it, Aakar?

Me: Um, no. I was planning to serve it with yogurt and chai.

Before they could start giving me any more culinary suggestions beyond my expertise, I got out of the chat.

Once I had prepared the potato mixture with all the spices, I rolled the dough and added the filling. After I had prepared a few parathas, I started on the chai.

Thankfully, Kriti was still asleep.

As the chai boiled on the stove, I decorated a tray with parathas, yogurt, ketchup, and some mango pickle I found in the fridge.

Once the chai was done, I poured it into a kettle that I found at the back of a shelf while I was looking for flour.

Checking that the stove was off and I’d cleaned up the kitchen, I carried the tray of food upstairs. As I entered the room, I found Kriti still asleep, her face buried under my pillow.

I couldn’t have stopped the smile that took over my face even if I tried. I missed the view. I missed seeing Kriti sleeping, the way she started with her head on the pillow but would bury her face under it by the middle of the night. I gently placed the tray on the side table and climbed under the blanket.

My movement jostled her a little, and she let out an adorable moan, turned in the other direction, and pulled the blanket over her head. I lay down beside her and placed a kiss on the blanket over her arm. “Wake up, baby.”

“What do I smell?” she mumbled from under her blanket.

I pulled at the blanket so I could see her face. Softly pressing my lips to her forehead, I said, “Breakfast in bed. Open your eyes.”

She immediately opened her eyes, surprise and disbelief etched in the lines on her forehead.

I brushed those lines to smooth them out and smiled at how adorable and mine she looked. “Sit up.”

Her lips twitched in an almost smile, and I did cartwheels in my mind.

Once she sat, her sexy-as-sin blouse barely covering her tits and the blanket pooling at her hips had my cock go rock fucking hard. I picked up the tray and placed it on the bed between us.

Her jaw was wide open as I poured the chai into two cups. “You did this?”

I brushed a soft kiss to her lips, loving the look of barely concealed delight on her face. “I did. You like it?”

She gave me the barest of a nod.

“Want me to serve you the parathas?”

“I…I’ll go freshen up first.”

With that, she jumped off the bed and rushed into the bathroom.

I heard some mumbling from the bathroom, and I quickly jumped off the bed and stepped on the other side of the door.

“Did you say something, baby?”

“N…Nothing.”

I chuckled, knowing in the deepest part of my soul that she was impressed. That she wanted to smile.

I was ready to do whatever it took to make my wife believe that I loved her.

I quickly got back on the bed and started sipping my chai. The moment she was out, I served her the parathas, the yogurt, and the chai.

Usually, she would fill the silence with conversation.

But today, she was silent. Her eyes were on the food as she ate, and I desperately needed them on me.

I took a sip of my chai and cleared my throat. “Abhi and I had a talk after…after you left.”

She glared at me, and I quickly corrected myself, hating the words coming out of my mouth. “After I sent you away.”

She nodded as she continued eating and sipping her chai. “And?”

I shook my head thinking about the day. “Well, it was more like Abhi screamed and shouted at me for sending you away and broke down.”

And before she could interrupt or give me her piece of mind, I continued, “You might think that I’m the biggest asshole for not accepting my brother for who he is. But that’s not true.”

When I met her eyes, she was looking at me. “I love my brother. I’d take a bullet for him. I’d fight the whole world for him. Of course, I don’t care who he loves. It’s just that the prospect of him having to face the bigotry, the discrimination, the cruelty from people who don’t understand, terrified me. I couldn’t bear the thought of someone hurting Abhi. Especially our own family. These are the people who could barely handle the fact that their daughter loved an American boy. These are the people who have prejudices against people of different religions. They wouldn’t understand or accept Abhi. I’m terrified of what his being gay would do to Mummy and Pappa. Our family would be broken, Kriti. And I wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

“Abhi deserves to live his truth, Aakar.”

I nodded. “I know. I agree.”

“And we don’t know if he plans to come out to the entire family. All he cared about was your opinion.”

“And I completely ruined my response. I was terrified, Kriti. I should’ve listened to you then. You told me to stop thinking and just hug him. And I should’ve done that. I should’ve trusted you. And now, I’m left with a brother who can’t stand me and a wife who can’t trust me.”

She sniffled, and her eyes shone with tears. But she didn’t say a word. We ate in silence for a while as she polished off her chai and a paratha. Once we were done, I placed the food tray on my nightstand and sat facing Kriti, who was still quiet.

I hated her silence.

Gingerly, I slid my hand to where her hand rested on the blanket. When she didn’t pull away, I said a silent prayer and took her hand in mine. “All my life, I’ve heard the phrase Aakar, you’re older. Aakar, you need to take care of your sister and brother. Aakar, you’re older. We rely on you. Aakar, you’re older, and you need to step into your father’s shoes. Aakar, you’re older, and you need to be here for the family. Aakar, if you leave the house, who’s going to take care of this family. The more I stood up for my family, the more validation I got. The better I felt about my place in the family. And the more responsible I felt for their well-being. I guess, to the point where I felt like they needed me. That I was the only one who could take care of this family.

“And then, you came along. Yes, I looked at arranged marriage as a way to appease Mom. But I chose you because I wanted you. For myself. For every selfish reason. Because you make me happy. You make me want to have fun. You make me want to be selfish. And when we got married, I stupidly put you in the box with my family. I included you among the people who I needed to care for, be responsible for. Not someone who also cared for me. Who wanted to care for my family together. And instead of putting all my trust in you, I hurt you. Despite making the same mistake once, I was stupid enough to make it again.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m afraid you will never be able to trust me with your family. I’m afraid of how you will react the next time I keep a secret about your family. I’m afraid these are all empty words coming out of your guilt, and nothing will change. And what I’m afraid of the most is that I’d always be afraid of your reactions. I’d always be afraid of being thrown out of your house.”

Every word from her mouth was a dagger to my chest, slicing my heart over and over again. I made my wife afraid of me, and I hated myself for it. I climbed off the bed and circled to her side and sat near her hip. My wife looked defeated. Defeated. All because of my ego. I clutched her hand and got down on my knees at the side of the bed. “Baby, look at me.”

Her eyes were wet with tears when they met mine.

My voice wavered when I spoke, “Every day without you was torture. Every night without you in my arms was pure hell. Food lost all taste. Work lost all its meaning. Life lost all its color. Baby, I’m the one who’s afraid. I’m downright terrified of spending a single day without you. You hold all the power, Kriti. You could tear my entire world apart by choosing not to be with me. You could make me the most pathetic loser in this world by deciding to get rid of me, or you could make me the king of this world just by forgiving me and giving me a second chance. You say you’re afraid of me throwing you out of the house again. First, I hate that I’ve driven you to call our home a house. It’s your home. But, baby, there is no home without you in it. Trust me, jaan, you don’t have anything to fear. I’m afraid of being stupid again. I’m afraid of hurting you again. I’m afraid you’d leave me, and I’ll be broken.”

Tears steadily flowed down my cheeks now, and I knew I looked ugly as fuck. Before I could count more things I was afraid of, Kriti was in my lap, burying her face in my chest and holding me against her. “I’m so mad at you,” she cried.

I buried my face in her neck and squeezed her tight to me. “I know, my jaan. And I’m so sorry for messing everything up like this. I’m on my knees begging you to give me one more chance. I need you.”

She clutched my T-shirt as she cried in my arms. I pulled out of her hug and held the back of her neck as I met her eyes. “You told me last night that I didn’t love you. That I didn’t know the meaning of love. You’re wrong, baby. If there is only one thing you’re wrong about throughout this entire fight, it’s you thinking that I don’t love you. There is no one, absolutely no one, that I love more than I love you. I’d been living my life just fine before you came into my life. And now, my life is pure fucking torture without you. What do you call it if not love?”

I held her cheeks in my hands, her tears sliding down my palms as my heart twisted painfully in my chest. “I love you, Kriti. I will always love you. Even when I’m stupid, even when I’m angry, even when I’m sad. I will always love you the most.”

I closed my eyes, pressed my forehead against hers, and prayed to her. “Tell me you believe me, baby.”

I felt her nod. “I believe you.”

The sheer relief and happiness at those three words had me pulling her into a kiss. A needy fucking whimper escaped my lips at the first taste of her. Tears escaped my eyes as she opened herself to me and grazed her tongue against mine. Our kiss was pain and passion, hurt and a balm; it was need and hunger and desperation and thirst for more and more.

I wanted to drown in her. I clutched her to me, not leaving a breath of space between us. My need for my wife was all-consuming, needing to claim her back, dying to worship her.

But she quickly pulled away. A pitiful, needy sound escaped my chest at the feel of her loss.

Wiping her tear-stained cheeks, she climbed off my lap. “I’m still mad at you. Just because I believe you love me doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you.”

With that, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door in my face, leaving me mildly relieved that she at least believed in my love for her and highly desperate to make my wife smile again.

So, like a lost puppy, I stared at the closed bathroom door as she got ready. I rushed through my own shower after she went downstairs, needing to keep her in my sight. I sat near her as she scrolled through her phone and worked on her laptop. The entire time, Kriti gave me the silent treatment.

When lunchtime rolled around, I ordered her a large spicy burger and fries and ate what she ate.

She knew I was sorry and wasn’t going anywhere.

Every time she moved, I straightened in anticipation that she was going to talk to me. But she didn’t.

My ears ached to hear her voice. I’d rather she scream and shout at me, berate me for being an awful husband. But no, my wife stewed in silence.

So when she was about to climb up the stairs to go back to her room, I couldn’t help but stop her. “Um…Would you sit with me downstairs? You can do your own thing. I’ll do mine.”

Her fists were clenched tight, and a flood of emotions crossed her face. I tried to give her my best puppy-dog eyes. With a sigh, she said, “Fine.”

I went to the living room and took a seat on the couch. She was slower to follow but then took a seat on the sofa across from me. I needed her to talk to me, especially after this morning’s emotional conversation. And there was probably only one thing that might do the trick.

I gave her a smile and casually grabbed my bag from beside the couch. I could feel Kriti’s eyes burning a hole into me, but I kept it casual as I opened my bag and pulled out three of her romance books I brought.

Her gasp had me looking up.

Her eyes were round with shock as she clutched the sofa cushion tight in her fist. “What…Where…What are you doing with my books?”

I put two of them on the coffee table between us and kept my half-read book in my hand. “Oh, these? Umm. I’m reading them, of course.”

She let out a loud scoff with a chuckle. “Why?”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “What else am I supposed to do the entire day when I have no work, baby?”

Her cheeks reddened at the baby. “You could literally do anything,” she muttered.

I flipped the pages of the book and gave her a guilty smile. “Well, it wasn’t my idea, to be honest. When I confessed to my family about what I did, Maa and the kakis forbade me from contacting you until I read ten romance books from your shelf. In fact, some of the recommendations came from them.”

Kriti’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Really?” Her voice shook.

I simply nodded. And just to make her smile, I said, “I’ve especially been reading a lot of grovel romances.”

She burst out laughing. “Really?”

“I’d say it’s a very important research material.”

“That’s true.”

“How do you think I’m doing? I’ve read over ten books so far.”

She turned her face away as her cheeks flushed red. She shook her head and mumbled, “It’s not so bad.”

I was off the couch. “Not so bad? Not so bad?”

“Well, if you were mind-blowing, I would be back home with you.”

I gasped dramatically and clutched my chest. “You wound me, baby.”

And I realized one thing. She finally called our home a home.

She chuckled at my antics and picked up one of her books from the stack on the coffee table. She flipped through the book, and her mouth hung open in shock. “You annotated them?”

Worried that she minded notes in her books, I quickly went to her and took a seat beside her. “I only put them on sticky notes. See? I didn’t ruin your book.”

Before I could explain further, she grabbed my T-shirt and pulled me into a kiss. I quickly took the book from her hand and placed it on the coffee table, all the while kissing her. I never wanted her to stop. I was starving for a single touch, a single kiss, a single little nip of her teeth on my lip.

Kriti’s tongue tangled with mine as she pulled me closer to her. I clutched her waist, and we ended up lying on the couch, making out like teenagers. She panted at my mouth, “Did you like my books?”

I was so wound up as I dragged my hand down her body, lightly grazing her curves, causing her to shiver. “I thought getting a hard-on reading some of these scenes would just be a one-off,” I said. Placing a wet kiss on her neck, I sucked the soft skin at her pulse. My pulse thundered at her scent, and I continued, “I was so fucking wrong. The agony these scenes put me through.”

Her laughter touched my lips, and I captured them in my mouth. “Fuck, baby. I missed your laugh.”

She sobered up at that, and I instantly regretted saying those words. Even though they were true. Softly, I caressed her face. Brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, I placed a kiss on her forehead. “I know you’re still mad, and you’ve still not forgiven me, baby. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

She played with my T-shirt, her eyes not meeting mine. “It’s not that I don’t want to forgive you, Aakar. I understand your reaction. And I believe you when you say you’d never send me away again.”

“Never.”

“But my heart isn’t quite there yet.”

I placed a kiss on her forehead. “I know what’s stopping your heart from forgiving me.”

“What?”

I touched her chin to raise her face so she was looking at me and placed a small kiss on her lips. “It’s waiting for the grand gesture.”

Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened and closed with no words coming out.

I placed my finger on her lips. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna give you a grand gesture. You just wait and watch.”