Page 140 of One Hellish Wedlock
A sigh escaped her lips. She hadn’t known he’d declined the property all along. And he had sent the proof without being asked, without expectation. Just honesty.
There was a knock at the bedroom door. Shikha poked her head inside.
“You’re just waking up? I hope we’re not going to be late on our first day at work. Should we skip breakfast?”
Aanya remembered Reyansh’s gentle warning. She shook her head.
“No. We can manage. Give me fifteen minutes.”
“Alright,” Shikha said, vanishing back into her room.
Aanya rushed into the shower.
Day 10
Aanya refreshed her inbox again. Still no email from Reyansh. It had been five days since his last message. Why was he ignoring her? Was everything alright with him back in India?
She shook the thought away and rang the doorbell at Radhika’s house. It was the weekend, and she’d promised to spend it with Radhika and Rishi. Shikha had plans with their new office group, leaving Aanya free.
Rishi opened the door with a warm smile. “Welcome home.”
“Thanks, Jeeju. Where’s Di?”
“She is in the bedroom. Go on, sit with her. I’ll make us some coffee.”
“Should I help?”
“No formalities,” he waved her off. “Just give her some good advice.”
Aanya headed inside and found the bed covered in multi-coloured balls of wool.
“Di! What’s all this?”
“Thank God you’re here,” Radhika smiled. “Help me pick a colour.”
“For what?”
“For the baby’s first woollen suit.”
Aanya’s smile widened as she took a seat. “Pink.”
“Pink?” Radhika arched a brow. “What if it’s a boy?”
“Then blue,” Aanya replied with a grin.
“Great idea. I’ll make both.”
Aanya giggled. “But Di… why put yourself through this? We can buy these things from stores now, all colours, all sizes, ready-made.”
Radhika pouted, placing a hand over her belly. “Because no store can match the warmth a mother knits into clothes made with love.”
Aanya nodded, touched. “You’re right. Will you teach me one day?”
“Of course. And then you can knit a few foryourbabies too.”
Aanya stiffened. Babies? Hers and Reyansh’s? The idea felt too distant, too uncertain. Memories of their silly car ride argument about babies surfaced. How ridiculous it had seemed, yet oddly sweet.
“Pass me that kit, please,” Radhika said, drawing her back.
