✿ TO BE HURT ✿

65.9K 4.2K 354
                                    

ALAIA

“Agastya, wait.” I called out his name, almost rushing downstairs.

He turned to me and raised his brows.

“Won't you have your breakfast?” I asked, mentally cursing myself for not waking up earlier.

“I did.” He gestured towards the table.

My eyes fell on an empty plate at the table. Oh. Okay.

“I have to leave for office.” He cleared his throat to which I just nodded.

Once he left, I sighed in disappointment. I should've woken up earlier. The least I can do for him is to cook food for him. I walked to the dinning table and my eyes widened in suprise, there were so many varieties of breakfast options.

“Shall we serve the breakfast, Ma'am?” One of the house helpers came to me.

“Thankyou but I'll do it by myself.” I smiled, politely.

“Uh, what does Agastya usually have for breakfast?” I asked.

“Orange juice.”

“That's it?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes, Ma'am.”

Right. And he was concerned about my habit of skipping food.

“Please call me, Alaia.” I said. “And I need a bit of your help.” I added, excitement rushing through my body.

She nodded.

“What's his favourite dish?” I asked.

“Sir never showed any preference.”

I frowned at her answer. I thought of preparing the dinner for him. There's this one thing in the world which I know obviously along with all the house chores which I was forced to learn. But cooking is kind of my love language.

I really want to make a nice dinner for him.

I sat on the couch after having the breakfast and looked around. How I'm going to survive the days without doing anything? I'm not educated enough for a job nor do I have any other such talents which I can pursue. On top of everything, I don't have any hobbies except gardening.

I closed my eyes and imagined few moments that I've spent with Agastya. Butterflies erupted in my belly and for a split second, I wondered that exactly what I'm doing with myself? I've married him to escape my loneliness and my family. But with him, I'll be lonely too, isn't it?

Biting my lips, I stood up and took reluctant steps towards his study. Pushing the door, I stepped inside and turned on the lights. The sound of my anklets filled the room reminding me that I'm entering into his personal space. I looked around, the books resting inside the huge glass frame. I walked to it and slided the glass to get a closer look. Academic books, research papers, non fictions, books on space and climate change. There wasn't anything of my liking until an old book caught my attention.

I took it out and it was some random love story set in the late eighties. I turned the pages, realising that this book has been read many a times. Scanning it, I realised that there was something written on the first page in a beautiful handwriting.

This book is so close to my heart. I hope you treasure it too — Zoya.

Something weird happened in my stomach and without wasting a single second, I closed the book and put it back.

I licked my lips and found stacks of paper lying on the study table. I reached for it and there was this one white sheet, crisply folded, tucked neatly between a plain notebook.

I already know what it was.

Inhaling a deep breath, I took the letter and after opening the window of the room, I sat on the floor. The soft breeze from the morning sky filled the room. The sound of rustling leaves and soft scent of lilies also entered my nostrils. I looked out and for a moment stared at the trees. Oddly, I felt sadness creeping my senses.

Carefully, I opened the letter to read it.

I remember vividly the day you said you're going to love me. That day, unknowingly you held onto my wrist when sound of waves thrashing against the shore felt inaudible compared to my heartbeat.

I tried, you know, I tried thousand times to forget that day but this heart, it doesn't wants to let go of that moment. The moment when I felt that I'm going to love you for the rest of my life.
And I hope you know that I'm going to love you for the rest of my life.

I folded it back after reading it and mechanically,  I closed the window, cutting the fresh breeze and carefully placed the letter back to where it was.

With heavy heart, I rushed to my room and lay down on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I felt my heart beating rapidly as if it was fighting to jump out of my ribcage. Needles prickled in my throat and I tried. I swear, I tried to not cry but the tears didn't stop in my eyelids; they rolled down my cheeks.

I'm not even sure why I'm crying but it feels good to feel empty. A longing ache of never being enough for anybody hit me. I was never loved by my family and the man I thought loves me, he served my body to his friends.

Why I'm feeling this grief?

***

“Ah, it smells nice.” I grinned as the aroma of curry entered my nostrils.

It's already eight and I'm finally done with the dinner. Though it took me some time but I'm glad that I've prepared everything. I've cooked something for Agastya for the first time. I wasn't sure what he liked so I made Garlic naan, Chicken tikka, Butter panner, steamed rice, Missi roti, Dal makhani, biryani, fish curry, chickpea salad, Palak paneer and Gulab jamun along with strawberry custard.

It took me four hours or maybe more but I can't express how excited I'm for him to eat my food. If he likes them then I'm going to cook for him everyday. Atleast it'll kill my time and some part of me would feel happy.

I set the table and quickly went to my room to have a shower and change my clothes that have stains of food. I hissed in pain when my eyes fell on my palms. Accidentally I've spilled hot oil on my hand.

Ignoring it, I changed my clothes and came back downstairs. Glancing at the clock, I realised that it's only half past nine. My stomach grumbled in hunger and it took all in my to not fill my plate with the food and eat like there's no tomorrow but then again, I want to have dinner with him.

My heart took a summersault as I rested my head against the table and closed my eyes shut, imagining a cute scenario in my head. 

He will give me one of his soft smile and then eat the food. His brows would shot up in suprise as the delicious taste rolls down his tongue. He would praise me and then I'm going to tell him that I can cook anything in the world. It isn't difficult for me and then probably his eyes would light up in suprise and he'll give me another one of his smile. After finishing our dinner, I would ask him if I can cook for him everyday? I wonder what he's going to say?

I frowned, placing a hand on my stomach when it grumbled again. Ah, I'm starving. I looked at the time again and now it was eleven yet there was no sign of him.

I sighed and decided to wait for him some more. And I don't know when my eyes started getting heavy and I fell asleep.

His Unloved Bride | COMPLETED ✓ Where stories live. Discover now