Page 120 of Sumanika

"You know, she cared about me more than my actual mother ever did. Not every slap is derogatory," I replied, and he inhaled sharply near my neck.

"Do you remember when I hid behind you during that Holi?" he asked slowly, and I nodded timidly.

"Yes, but at that time, I felt angry," I managed to say softly.

"Why?"

I laughed a little before saying,

"Because I hate Holi. It feels like forced fun," I explained, and he laughed a bit while tightening his arm around my waist.

"You’re cute sometimes," he said, and I furrowed my brows.

"Well, what’s cute about that?" I asked, and he nudged his nose below my ear.

"I don’t know. Your rigid opinions on everything," he replied, and I inhaled sharply, turning my head to look at him.

"Rigid opinions?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Yeah, your beliefs are very rigid. It might come from your trauma, but you tend to judge people really quickly," he said slowly, and I furrowed my brows again.

"No, I don’t judge people. I mean, I don’t!" I tried to protest and added, "And my beliefs aren’t rigid; they’re based on personal experiences."

He smiled and nodded.

"Every person, every experience in life is new, Suman. You slice an apple, and if it turns out to be rotten, that doesn’t mean all apples are rotten. You just ignore it and slice another one," he said, and I nodded, biting my lip.

"But you know, when you find a rotten apple and go out to buy another one, you check extra hard to see if it’s fresh or not. That’s what experience teaches you," I tried to argue.

He nodded. "But that doesn’t mean you should hurt the other apple in the process by judging it and pointing fingers at it. In life, people aren’t apples. Sometimes, like you, they’re holding their traumas too. And when you point fingers and question them, they feel nothing but more broken. It’s like no one trusts them, and that hurts," he said, and I inhaled deeply, caressing the back of his hand gently.

"Did I say something that hurt you?" I managed to ask, looking at the cottage in front of us.

"Umm, not much," he replied, and I felt his hand pull the reins of the horse to bring it to a halt.

I was unaware, but his words made me realize that something I said was troubling him.

"We are here," he stated as he dismounted the horse. I smiled when he effortlessly held my waist and lowered me down.

"How are you so strong?" I inquired, and he grinned.

"Children who don’t see their parents are strong," he explained, and I furrowed my brows, shaking my head.

"No, I mean, physically," I clarified slowly while watching him tie Ashwait’s rope to a tree.

He chuckled. "Oh, my dinner keeps me healthy."

I rolled my eyes, feeling him take my hand as he said, "Come with me, love," drawing out the last word as I giggled softly.

"Love?" I echoed, and he nodded, biting his lower lip.

"Your name is Suman, and if I give you a nickname like Summu, Summa, or something else, the kids will tease you. So, 'Love' works well," he explained, and I asked as we entered the cottage, and he opened the door.

"Which kids?"

He looked at me with furrowed brows and replied,

"Our children." I felt a blush creeping onto my cheeks.

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