Page 57 of Entangled Vows
Mahika opened her mouth, ready to snap back, but he cut her off.
“I won’t touch you unless you want me to,” he said, stopping her mid-sentence. His unflinching stare held hers in a silent challenge. “But don’t test me, wifey, or you’ll regret it. I don’t want you crashing on the couch like some stubborn teenager.”
“Whatever,” she shot back. “I’m still sleeping on the couch.”
His voice turned icy as he dropped his hand from the wardrobe door and stepped back. “Try that, and you’ll find out exactly what kind of man you married.”
He didn’t wait for her reply. Without a word, he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him. He was gone, but the silence he left behind clung to her, thick and unforgiving. Mahika stood frozen, her heart hammering like it had just raced to the edge of a cliff, unsure whether to jump or retreat.
20
The door clicked shut behind her, and silence swallowed the room. Heavy, suffocating silence.
Mahika stood still, her face burning with frustration. Why did he always get under her skin? No matter how prepared she thought she was, Vikram Khurana had a way of disarming her with his controlling behaviour.
She stormed over to the window and drew the sheer curtain aside. The valley glittered under the night sky. It was a view that should have calmed her. But it didn’t. It only made her feel like the world was moving on while she remained stuck here.
Mahika let out a deep breath and turned away. She sat at the edge of the bed and gripped the mattress until her knuckles turned white. She tried to slow her racing heart, but her thoughts kept on spiralling. This was supposed to be temporary. Simple. Not this messy silence of tension, old wounds, and unspoken words that left her exhausted.
Her eyes burned with tears of frustration and she blinked them back. The anger simmered under her skin, of course. But beneath that was something far more dangerous. Her pulse still reacted to him. Her body still remembered his scent, the rasp of his voice, the weight of his gaze.
What the hell was wrong with her?
She squeezed her eyes shut. No. She refused to be that girl again. The one who waited, who hoped, who felt too much. She would survive this arrangement without losing her mind or her heart. And she was definitely not sleeping on that ridiculously inviting bed, no matter how fluffy it looked or how sinfully it seemed to call her name.
Bungee wriggled in his carrier, his little feet a bit restless, as if he’d caught some of her tension. Mahika crouched beside him and released a long breath she hadn’t even noticed she’d been holding.
“Don’t worry, Bun,” she whispered, scratching behind his ears. “We’re not sleeping on the bed.”
The rabbit blinked up at her, his ears twitching as if he understood her.
“I know, sweetie. He’s an idiot. And what’s he going to do? Throw another tantrum?”
She lifted the carrier and placed it beside the balcony doors, exactly where Vikram had pointed earlier, which irritated her even more. She arranged his bowls, and Bungee sniffed around before flopping down like he already owned the place.
Mahika looked around the room, her frown fading. It was surprisingly beautiful. The walls were a muted beige, complemented by dim, recessed lights. The polished wooden drawers, etched with delicate vintage patterns, added a timeless, cosy charm. Somehow, she hadn’t pictured Vikram with this kind of quiet elegance. She imagined black satin sheets and sterile white walls. But this… this was completely different.
She stepped into the walk-in closet and scanned her area. Someone had already arranged her clothes. Colour-coordinated and sorted by style, exactly the way she would have done it. Shepaused, wondering who had gone out of their way to do this. She really needed to thank them.
Opening her tote, she removed her nighttime essentials. Lip balm, body lotion, phone charger, and her Kindle. She then carefully set them on the nightstand next to the touch lamp. A soft tap bathed the room in a warm, golden glow.
Inside the bathroom, she splashed some warm water on her face and caught her reflection. Her eyes looked tired, her hair a messy tangle, and there was a weariness clinging to her skin. This was a version of herself she rarely let the world see.
“You’ve got this,” she whispered, though a tiny part of her couldn’t help but scoff at the lie.
Donning her sleep shirt and shorts, she slipped into her fluffy slippers and settled on the bed to go through her usual nighttime routine. She squeezed a generous amount of lotion onto her palms and rubbed the swirl of vanilla magnesium cream into her arms. The familiar, comforting scent filled the air, and for the first time in the day, a sense of calm settled over her, steadying her nerves. After finishing it, her eyes drifted towards the couch, and she sighed, steeling her resolve. She was going to sleep on it, no matter what.
Grabbing a soft throw blanket, she marched to the couch like a soldier heading to war, and flopped down with a huff. Vikram’s voice echoed in her head, all clipped, bossy, and annoyed with something she couldn’t quite name. And it made her even angrier.What was his problem?She had always tried to be his friend, but his habit of snapping and treating her like an unruly child made her blood boil all over again. Being seven years older didn’t give him the right to be so dictatorial.
Rolling onto her side, she faced the small enclosure near the balcony housing Bungee.
“My rude husband is such an annoying control freak, isn’t he?” she muttered.
Bungee tilted his head, and she narrowed her eyes. “Oh, you’re taking his side now?”
Mahika lay on her back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. The couch wasn’t exactly comfortable, but she didn’t care. She was willing to endure a little discomfort rather than surrender. Her pride left her no choice.
For a while, everything felt okay, and a calm, peaceful sensation washed over her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. But when she opened them, she groaned in frustration as a familiar scent hit her. Musk, cedar… and him. Of course, the room smelled like him. Because fate clearly had a cruel sense of humour. To make matters worse, some unhinged part of her hadlikedhis authoritative tone. The heat beneath his controlled demeanour and the dominant glint in his eyes stirred something within her.
