Stuck | 18+

Chapter 6

Everything was blurred for next two days. 

Her room was flooded with maids, beauticians, and hair dressers. Their meandering as annoying as unbothered. 

It didn't matter, and for that matter, nothing mattered. She did not notice their presence, their existence all but the remnants of reality as she expressionlessly watched it in the dazed state. She realised what sham of a matrix she had been living so far while the only truth was him- the stoutness of his features, the roughness of his skin, the coldness of his gaze, the harshness of his actions. 

In the minutes of their meet, he had changed the definitions of marriage for her. For someone who hadn't experienced a man's touch, she had had nothing than a roller coaster ride that night, riding to the heights of pleasures and the depths of pain. And it was all but a glimpse, she knew, a quick peek over what he could actually to do. 

A sudden shiver ran over her skin at the thought. She internally shook her head, already scared of her future. Not that she hadn't thought about her wedding night before, but the man had promised atrocity running far beyond her expectations. 

She didn't know who she was anymore. After what had happened that night, she felt ruined skin shedding, covering her in the novel layer of shame. She hadn't yet forgotten her body's audacious reaction, exuding the viscous excitement to drench his lips and fingers. 

The mere idea of seeing him ever again chilled her to the bones, seeming downright obnoxious. She shut her brain from bringing back carnal images of his inglorious acts. He was stuck in her mind like a spider in its own web, unable to leave her alone. Even when she was surrounded by enormous  humans, he was all over her, the fading scent of his cologne still mingled in her senses, the tingles of his hard smack on her pussy still burnt, the wink on his way out replayed like a faulty cassette. He had clawed her soul to an unrepairable damage, costing her lot more than sanity. 

She only wished for him to lose his interest in her. She was plain, unadorned, unambitious, nothing that a man like him would ever seek in his wife. She hoped it was as obvious as that, simple in its nature, untangled and clear like a sky that he wouldn't find her attractive, she hoped his interest was was all but infatuation, very soon to be flying out of the window as if it never existed.

As much as that night had emblemed on her soul, she assumed this was just a part of routine for him, something that he regularly engaged on with his women. Little did she know, like the guest he had been in her mind, she had made a palace in his, crashing his believes like walls of sand. Little gap from their last meet had amplified his thirst tenfold. He ran painfully low on patience to have her under his mercy, to take her to his home, his room, his bed.

...

Italians and Indians had agreed upon arranging wedding in both cultures. Indian ceremonies were arranged in her home in all their grandiloquent ways. Couple was to immediately leave Italy after that, consummating their marriage in Christian wedding.

A traditional red veil was introduced on her head, partially covering her face. She gave herself a final look before carefully walking out the room for what she knew was the last time. 

She didn't look back to have a moment with her room, finding nothing memorable about the prison she had spent all her life in. Two maids walked beside her, helping with heavy weight of her lehenga. As soon as she reached garden she became conscious of everyone's eyes. From never having to attend an Indian wedding before, Italians' brows raised at her attire, astonished and admiring all the same. They took their time in telling her she looked beautiful, and as everyone would have agreed, she did. 

She politely smiled at their kindness. Her guilt peeked out as she realised she knew nothing about them, especially when they were to be more around her in future. But who was she kidding, she didn't even know about him, her soon to be everything. His arrogant self hadn't even considered to tell her who he was, and as strange as it was, she did not care, knowing that being accustomed to his identity wouldn't change her destiny.