Page 198 of One Hellish Love

Overwhelmed, Kashish wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself against his chest. She didn’t know what else to say. She wasn’t entirely convinced by this idea, but she understood. She couldn’t keep delaying their marriage either. They both wanted each other too much to wait. If this was the only way, then so be it.

“She’s not going to be happy when she finds out about this arrangement,” she replied, lifting her head to meet his eyes. “Have you told Shekhar and Anjali yet?”

“Not yet,” he admitted. “I wanted to talk to you first. I’ll speak to them tonight.”

Kashish’s heart broke a little for him. She knew this wasn’t going to be easy for Rudra. He loved his family, especially his grandmother. It was going to be difficult for him to have this conversation. Daadi had been his pillar of strength ever since his parents passed away. But now, Kashish was that pillar too. And no matter what she would always stand by him.

“Show me our bedroom,” she whispered, trying to lighten the mood.

“I thought women usually wanted to see the kitchen first,” he teased, his smile returning.

“You’re right, most women do,” she replied with a playful smirk. “But I’ve already found my way into your heart, and that’s not through your stomach anymore,” she said, trailing her fingers across his chest, resting her hand over his beating heart.

Rudra didn’t move. He stood still, captivated by her touch as her fingers grazed his neck, shoulder, and then his nape. There was an almost reverent silence between them, broken only by the soft sound of their breathing.

“Why are you so perfect?” she whispered, her voice filled with awe.

Rudra didn’t respond, but the dark, hungry look in his eyes said more than words ever could. Her fingers traced along his jaw and then to his lips. He surrendered to her touch, and before he knew it, their lips met. The kiss was slow and deep.

“Before you distract me again,” Rudra said as they pulled apart to breathe and then swiftly lifted her into his arms, “let me show you the rest of the house.”

“Like this?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck for support.

“Yes, exactly like this,” he replied, carrying her toward the stairs, his heart full and his mind already envisioning the future they would build together.

CHAPTER 62

A few minutes Later

Rudra shook hands firmly with the builder of the bungalow that would soon become his and Kashish’s home once they were married.

“Thank you, Mr. Patel. We loved the house.”

“I’m glad it meets your expectations, Mr. Raheja. I’ll proceed with the paperwork,” Patel replied.

“Absolutely. Jay will get in touch with you soon.”

As Patel left, Rudra turned his attention to Kashish, who was standing in the garden, her eyes locked on the flowers swaying in the breeze. She knelt down, carefully re-rooting a small plant that had been uprooted from the soil. Rudra approached her quietly, watching as her delicate hands worked to fix the plant.

“We seem to be sharing hobbies now?” he murmured, kneeling beside her to help.

“This became my little pastime while you were away in Paris,” she confessed. “I used to water your plants in the garden, nourish them... talk to them, even. It made me feel closer to you.”

Rudra felt a deep pang in his chest at her words. He swallowed hard, struggling to contain the emotions welling up inside him.

“I hope you didn’t take out your anger on my poor plants,” he teased, trying to lighten the moment, though his heart ached for the loneliness she had endured.

Kashish groaned playfully and lightly hit his arm. Before she could do it again, Rudra caught her wrist, pulling her close into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her as if he never wanted to let go.

“I punished you too harshly. I shouldn’t have left you.” He pressed a soft kiss into her hair.

Kashish snuggled closer cherishing their togetherness. They stayed like that, silently communicating their pain, their love, their unspoken apologies, until Rudra’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Yes, Bhai?”

Kashish could tell something was wrong by the way his grip on her arm tightened.

“Rudra, come home. Daadi isn’t well,” Shekhar’s voice pleaded, heavy with worry.

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