Chapter XI
As soon as Sita stepped out of the washroom, wrapped in her towel with steam trailing behind her like a soft cloud, I was already standing in the hallway — arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and a whole speech loaded on the tip of my tongue.
"Sitaaaaaa!" I called out, half yelling, half groaning.
She blinked at me, wiping her face with the edge of her towel. "What happened now?" she asked innocently, like she wasn't fully aware of the chaos she had unleashed before sunrise.
"What happened?" I echoed, placing a dramatic hand over my heart. "What didn't happen, Sita?! Why, for the love of all things sacred, did you put a clothespin on my nose last night?!"
Sita blinked again, this time with just a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Oh that? You mean the tiny little clip on your nose?" she said sweetly, like we were discussing a decorative flower instead of an act of war.
"Yes, that!" I waved my hand in the air like a lawyer presenting evidence. "Do you have any idea what I went through?! I woke up drooling! Like a leaky faucet! I could've drowned in my own saliva!"
Sita let out a small laugh, the kind that she tries to hide behind her hand but completely fails to.
"I had to clean up like a criminal before you saw me!" I continued, voice filled with mock horror. "I thought I was malfunctioning, Sita! I thought my body betrayed me!"
She leaned casually against the doorframe, completely unbothered. "Well, what else was I supposed to do?" she said with a shrug. "You were snoring like a tractor with a broken engine. I couldn't sleep!"
I gasped. "Tractor?! I do not snore like a tractor!"
"Oh really?" she teased, stepping closer. "Last night, you weren't just snoring. You were having full conversations with yourself. Laughing, muttering… I thought you were possessed!"
"I was probably dreaming," I muttered, crossing my arms again. "Normal people talk in their dreams. It's a thing!"
Sita nodded slowly, with a mischievous smirk. "Mhm. And normal people don't drool all over their pillows because someone had to strategically clip their nose shut."
I narrowed my eyes. "You're unbelievable."
She raised an eyebrow. "And you're noisy."
I groaned. "Sita, what is your problem? I snore a little, I mumble a bit, and yes — sometimes I drool when my nose is clipped shut! What's your excuse?"
Sita tilted her head with that all-too-familiar look — the one that said she was about to win this argument without breaking a sweat. "My excuse? Hmm. I guess I just value peace while I sleep."
"Well," I said stubbornly, "next time, just wake me up. Don't turn me into a human science experiment!"
She laughed again and walked past me toward the kitchen. "No promises."
I turned to follow her. "What do you mean no promises? I'm serious, Sita. Don't do that again."
She opened the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, took a sip, and looked at me over the rim.
"I will do it again," she said with the most shameless grin. "Every time you turn into a chainsaw at night, your nose gets clipped."
I stood there, jaw dropped, while she casually walked past me again — humming a tune like she hadn't just declared war.
"Unbelievable," I muttered again, heading toward the living room.
I had just sat down on the couch when her voice rang out from the hallway, teasing and singsong:
"Better sleep quietly tonight, Ved… or tomorrow's clip might come with glitter."
And I realized then… this wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
This was love — ridiculous, petty, hilarious, and infuriating.
And somehow, in spite of it all… I loved her even more.
The morning sun filtered through the curtains, painting soft streaks of gold across the room. The quiet hum of the city waking up outside added to the peaceful rhythm of our home. Sita had already showered, dressed, and was almost ready for the office. I was still rubbing sleep from my eyes when she passed by me, a vision of elegance and efficiency in her neatly ironed office attire.
"Heading to shower," I mumbled, still half-dreaming, as she nodded and returned to the kitchen.
By the time I came out, fresh and wide awake, the warm smell of breakfast hit me like a comforting hug. I stepped into the dining area to find the table set — toast, eggs, juice, and tea. And Sita… waiting for me.
It made me pause for a second. She didn't just make food. She waited.
There was something so tender in that small act that I felt my heart flutter.
"Breakfast's ready," she said, smiling softly.
I smiled back, walking toward the table — wearing only a loose white shirt and a pair of soft cotton shorts. I hadn't bothered to change properly — after all, I wasn't planning to leave the house.
As I moved past her to sit down, Sita playfully reached out and lightly brushed her fingers against my thigh.
"Hmm," she said with a teasing smirk. "And who exactly are you dressed like this for?"
I chuckled. "What do you mean?"
She narrowed her eyes at my bare legs, poking fun more than actually being annoyed. "These legs… why are they on display, hmm?"
I grinned, taking a sip of tea. "Sita, I work from home. I don't have to impress the world. I just want to be comfortable."
She shook her head, pretending to be scandalized. "Comfortable or not, you're lucky I trust you."
I raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh? A little jealous, are we?"
She didn't get to answer — because just then, the doorbell rang.
And standing at the door, with her usual breezy charm, was Mia.
Sita blinked in surprise. "Mia? You're here this early?"
Mia looked flustered, glancing between us. "Oh! Sorry, I just came to pick up the keys I left here yesterday. I totally forgot… and, um… I also kinda forgot that you're married now. Sorry, I'll just head out—"
Before she could retreat, I gently caught her wrist. "Mia, wait. What are you talking about? You don't need to run."
I glanced at Sita, unsure how she'd react — but she surprised me.
Sita gave a polite nod and said, "No need to go, Mia. You're Ved's friend. This is your home too. Come in."
I smiled, relieved. "See? No one's mad. Come, have breakfast with us."
Mia hesitated, then finally smiled and sat down at the table with us. We started eating — a strange mix of comfort and slight tension floating under the surface.
After a few bites, Sita broke the silence.
"So, Mia… what do you do for work?"
Mia smiled easily. "I help Ved with his video edits and graphics. Kind of like his creative partner, I guess."
Sita's spoon froze mid-air for half a second before she continued eating.
"Oh," she said, trying to sound casual. "So you both will be working from here today?"
I quickly jumped in, sensing her tone. "Not for long. We're just going to work a little here, then grab coffee at the café nearby, meet Sasha at the gym, and swing by Gorya's place. Then we're picking up the rest of the gang and bringing them back here."
I grinned. "Party prep. You know… the after-wedding celebration."
Sita's smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
"I see," she said softly, placing her spoon down. "Sounds like you've got the whole day planned out."
"Mmhmm," I nodded, not noticing the quiet chill beginning to creep into her voice.
She stood up, brushing imaginary crumbs off her skirt. "Well then… I'm done with breakfast."
I looked up. "Already? You just sat down."
She turned toward the bedroom, her voice light but tight. "I have to get to the office. Long day ahead. Let me grab my stuff."
I watched her leave, and for a second, the warmth in the room faded a little. Mia looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
"She's mad, isn't she?"
I sighed. "She's… processing."
Mia smiled gently. "She really likes you, you know."
"I know," I said, my heart suddenly heavier than it had been just moments ago.
Sita returned, bag on her shoulder, keys in hand. She paused near the door.
"I'll see you tonight," she said, her voice calm.
I walked over and reached for her hand, but she only gave me a quick look and then opened the door.
And just like that, she was gone.
Leaving behind the faint scent of jasmine, half a cup of tea…
and a silence that felt louder than anything else in the room.
To be continue....