Page 175 of One Hellish Desire

I look at myself in the mirror after a relaxing shower. I don’t remember ever glowing like this before. I look different. I feel different. Last night was perfect, and there’s nothing I would change about it.

A knock at the bedroom door breaks my trance. I turn around to see Vikram leaning against the door, watching me, drinking me in with his gaze. I’m wearing his favorite color again, a red Anarkali dress.

“You look very much dressed for breakfast,” he teases.

I smile as he reaches me and kisses the top of my head.

“I wanted to spend the day inside this room, but it looks like you want to go out,” he complains.

I shy at the idea of spending the day in the room, which only promises more lovemaking.

“It’s the beginning of our new life, so I wished to visit the temple here with you.”

He gives it a thought before nodding in agreement.

“We will come back by lunch, and then you are mine again,” he says, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

“I am already yours,” I say, gliding my fingers on his rough stubble. “And you proved that a lot last night.”

His body tenses at my touch and tease, and before I can predict his actions, Vikram scoops me up in his arms.

“No way,” I giggle. “I’m hungry. Feed me something first.”

He was heading for the bed again, but stops after hearing this.

“Fine. Can’t this temple visit wait?” he asks, carrying me to the living room instead.

“No. We are flying tomorrow morning to Delhi, Vikram. Show me this temple at least if nothing else.”

He places me on the couch and starts serving breakfast.

“Alright. I’ll take you to the temple. Happy? Now eat.”

Vikram hands me a plate full of healthy breakfast, and my jaw drops.

“This is too much.”

“Trust me, you need this to sustain being my wife,” he says, feeding me a piece of orange.

I laugh as he takes the plate from me and starts feeding me instead. I don’t stop him. This is exactly what I need at the moment: all his attention. We talk about his last message to Meera aunty, and he gets upset that she still hasn’t contacted him. I wonder how long it will take for her to come back to talking terms with her son. Can she really be that upset? I hope she’s doing well health-wise.

VANRAJ SINGH GROVER

NEW YORK

It’s late, around 2:00 a.m., when I toss on the bed, realizing Meera is missing. Ever since Vikram left for India, my wife has been behaving oddly. She’s been drinking a lot and usually secludes herself, even from me, which I dislike. This is the fourth consecutive night she’s not in bed at this hour. I get up and look for her. She’s sitting at the bar counter, about to make a drink for herself when I stop her.

“Enough, Meera,” I snap. “So much drinking is bad to your liver.”

I snatch the bottle and put it back on the rack. She glares at me with puffy eyes stained with tears and dark circles.

“You look like a zombie,” I scowl. “What are you doing to yourself?”

“Leave me alone, Vanraj,” she shrugs.

“Never,” I hold her hand and pull her close. She stumbles but manages to hold onto my arms for support. “I am never leaving you alone.”

“No?” she lets out a mocking laugh and then goes silent. “You should. Just leave me and go back to your mother.”

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