Closer To You

𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚜

A Y A A N

"Well, Mr. Sharma, aren't you being a little too touchy these days?" she said, placing her hand on my chest to maintain some distance, while gazing directly into my eyes. I don't appreciate this distance.

"I'm just claiming my rights, Mrs. Sharma. If someone belongs to you, you shouldn't hesitate to be touchy," I replied, pulling her even closer to me. I know for sure there is no gap between us now. We were just inches apart from each other. I love this distance. No distance between us.

"And since when did I start to belong to you?"

"The day I laid my eyes on you." It was true. Incredibly true. Her cheeks immediately turned the darkest shade of red, and I reveled in the effect I had on her. The heart wants what it wants, and mine wanted to kiss those blushing cheeks. So, I did it.

She hid her face in my chest, and the sensation was overwhelming. I love her so much. She looks incredibly cute, and I just want her here, nestled against my chest, appearing so adorable and undeniably mine.

V I H A N N A

I was on my way to the office when a scream escaped my lips, only to be muffled by a hand covering my mouth. I was forcefully pulled into a room, but the terror intensified as I couldn't recall whose room it was. It wasn't Vedika; her touch isn't as cold. Maa wouldn't be this harsh, and it certainly wasn't Dadi or any male. It was a woman's hand, but whose? I had no clue.

The room remained shrouded in darkness until a light flickered, unveiling the unsettling reality. Esha. Her eyes were dark, intensely so, capable of piercing through your soul.

"Stay away from my man," she declared with venom.

"Who are you talking about? My husband? Let me make it clear, he's mine. Undeniably not yours."

"You know what's frustrating? Even after I harmed you with those sharp broken glasses, the frustration and burning resentment inside me didn't diminish."

This wasn't the first time, and I quickly discerned which man she was referring to.

I might be emotional, but I know how to articulate a strong response. After all, I am a practicing attorney.

Frustration evident, she ran her hand through her hair, appearing like a complete mess, a disaster.

"So it was you who dropped the glass on the stairs?" Mujhe pehle hi pata hona chahiye tha. Iss chudel ne mujhe warning di thi ki mein is shaadi ko pachtawungi.
(I should have known before. This witch gave me warning that I will regret this marriage.)

"Kaun aur ho sakta hai? Main chahti hoon ki tum meri Ayaan se door raho. Bilkul mere aur Ayaan ke zindagi se door. Woh mera hai. Hamesha se mera tha. Woh tumhe aise nahi dekhega jaise woh tumse sach mein pyaar karta hai. Woh mujhe aise dekhega. Main hi woh hoon jise woh dekhe. Main tumhe itna door kar doongi apni zindagi se ki tum wapas aane ka rasta bhi bhool jaogi."

(Who else it could be? I want you to be away from my and Ayaan life. He's mine. He always been. He won't see you like he really loves you. He would look at me like that. I will make you so far away from our lives that you will forget the roads to come back.)

"Be delusional and keep being delusional," I said and started to leave from there. Yaha rehke kuch faida nahi hai. (There's no benefit by being here.) But she held my hand so tightly that I'm sure it left a mark.

"Where are you going? I am not finished yet."

"I am finished. Tujh jesi chudel ki sakal dekhni nahi hai mujhe." Her eyes turned dark, and for a moment, it scared me. I was certain she was the one who kept staring at me from the balcony. (I don't want to look at a face like yours.)

"I don't want to look at a face like yours either. You stole what's mine."

She still dares to call MY HUSBAND hers? Iss chudel ki baal luchlungi mein. (I will tear this witch's hair apart.)

"I have something to show you." She went toward the closet and pulled out something like documents.

"Look at this. Tum jo yeh paper dekh rahi ho, yeh wahi paper hai jo Ayaan abhi recent project mein kaam kar raha hai. Chutkiyon mein." (She shows her fingers twisting.)

"Chutkiyon mein, main inn paper ko leak kar sakti hoon. Aur tumhara pati, jo ki mera hona chahiye tha, uska saara hard work jayega waste. So here's a little warning." She steps closer.
(In seconds. In seconds, I could leak this paper, and all your husband's work, who should be mine, all his work will go to waste. So here's a little warning.)

My heart churned because the title of the paper was all similar to the project Ayaan has been working on. This can't be real, but it scares me so much.

"Stay. Away. From. Him," she says, pointing her index finger at my chest.
"Don't even dare to tell him. Know the consequences." I knew what this project meant to him—so important. I saw the passion he had for this work, and I can't let the hard work, the paper, and his success go up in flames. It's better to stay away from him until he achieves his goals.

I saw the smirk on her face. I don't like it. Her face makes me nauseous. Suddenly, I'm hit by a panic attack. It's so sudden, so fast that I find it hard to breathe. I head straight to the room where no one is present. Ayaan left for the office. I try to calm myself.
Breathe in. Breathe out.

I grabbed a paper and pen from the table, trying to convince myself that everything would be alright. I wrote all the motivating words, tore the paper, and tossed it into the dustbin. Usually, this method lessened my stress, but not this time. The nausea, the stress inside me, was so intense that I felt like passing out due to shortness of breath.

I don't usually get panic attacks; it's a rare occurrence. Her face reminded me of my mother, making me feel sick. The idea of going to the office felt unbearable, but I couldn't let the darkness consume me. As I left the house, I saw her mouthing, "I will have a close eye on you."

Throughout the day, my thoughts were consumed by Esha's threats. I wrote and tore around 20 to 30 papers, tossing them into the dustbin, but nothing seemed to work. The stress was overwhelming.

While waiting for a cab, I received a text from him, but the high level of stress in my mind clouded my response.

Him: "I am coming to pick you up."
I was about to reply with an okay, but before I could, Esha's words haunted me:
Stay away from him.
I could leak this paper.
Don't forget the consequences.

Vi: "I am already on the way home."
Him: "You're not."
I then saw him leaning against the car, holding his phone, his eyes fixed on me. With slow steps, I moved forward, but in a blink of an eye, he was right in front of me.
"Why did you lie?"

"I didn't. I was about to."
"You could've said you're about to head home, not on the way home."

"That's the same thing."

"It's not, and I am sensing something is wrong." I avoided his gaze.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No. Why would you? You didn't, and trust me, there's nothing wrong." I tried to convince him, but I'm confused if my words are even convincing or not.

He didn't look convinced but shrugged it away, and we headed home. We had a habit of going to bed in each other's arms, but today I went to bed before he could join.

"She must be tired." I heard him say when I was pretending I was sleeping. I was at a loss for words when he slipped into bed and pulled me closer to his chest with his arms.
"Sleep well, love." My heart skipped a beat, but I had no willpower to turn and kiss him on the lips, even though I wanted to.

Stay away from him.