Page 93 of The Unwanted Husband
“Sure,” she said, and laughed because the moment was so overwhelming she needed the release. “But I’m already your wife, you know.”
He rose to his feet in one fluid motion, and suddenly they were eye to eye, the bridge swaying gently beneath them, the vast Pacific stretching endlessly on all sides. His hands framed her face with infinite gentleness.
“You were married to Ashoka Veera Devendraseema,” he said softly. There was something vulnerable in his expression, something raw and open. “Both times, the arranged marriage, and the one for the responsibility.”
His thumbs brushed across her cheekbones, catching the tears she hadn’t realized were falling.
“This is Ashok asking you to marry him. Just Ashok. The man who loves you. Who wants to spend every day for the rest of his life watching you light up the way you did today, sharingthe places that matter to you. The man who wants to give you the choice that was taken from you before.”
Isha’s throat tightened, and suddenly she understood. This wasn’t about the ring or the proposal. This was about agency. About choosing each other not because circumstances forced them together, not because of responsibility or tragedy, but because they wanted to.
Because in all the chaos of how they’d come together, the legal marriage on paper, the ceremonial wedding she’d endured, his initial coldness, Sami and Ravi’s deaths, the twins who’d bound them together, they had never had this moment. The simple, profound act of choosing.
“Yes,” she whispered, her voice breaking. Then stronger: “Yes, I will marry you.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with everything she had. All the love she’d been afraid to feel, all the joy she’d discovered in his arms, all the gratitude for this man who had somehow become her everything.
He kissed her back just as deeply, one hand tangling in her windswept hair, the other pressing firmly against the small of her back, anchoring her to him as the bridge swayed beneath them and the ocean roared its approval far below.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, foreheads pressed together, Ashok smiled, a real smile, the kind that transformed his whole face and made him look years younger.
“Third time’s the charm,” he said.
Isha laughed, bright and breathless. “You’re an amazing man. You know that, right?” She pulled back just enough to look at the ring on her finger, the way it caught the sunlight. “Whendid you even get this? We’ve been together every day since we got here.”
“I have my ways.” His expression turned sly, playful. “I may have enlisted Chandini’s help. She told me about your grandmother’s engagement ring, how your aunt still has it, and how you’d always admired the vintage style.”
“This isn’t—” Isha’s eyes went wide. “Ashok, is this my grandmother’s ring?”
He shook his head, smiling at her reaction. “No, but it was created for you, inspired by it. I wanted you to have something that was entirely ours. Something chosen just for you.”
Fresh tears spilled over. “You’re going to make me cry all day, aren’t you?”
“I plan to make you cry,” he said, brushing his lips against hers between words, “laugh, sigh, scream my name—”
She cut him off with another kiss, laughing against his mouth. “Stop. We’re in public.”
“Are we?” He glanced around at the empty bridge, the isolated lighthouse ahead, the vast ocean surrounding them. “I don’t see anyone.”
“The lighthouse opens at noon, remember? Tourists will start arriving soon.”
“Then I suppose,” he murmured, trailing kisses along her jaw, “we should hurry to that lighthouse of yours. Didn’t you say something about showing me the view?”
Isha shivered, but not from the ocean breeze. “The view. Right. That’s definitely what I was planning to show you.”
“Liar.” But his voice was warm, affectionate.
She grabbed his hand, her new ring catching the light, and pulled him toward the lighthouse. “Come on, Chieftain. Or should I say, future husband number three?”
“Just Ashok,” he corrected, squeezing her hand.
She stopped walking, turning to face him fully on the narrow bridge. The wind caught her dark hair, streaming it behind her like a banner, and the Pacific glittered diamond-bright beyond her. Ashok thought he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life.
“I need to tell you something,” Isha said softly, seriously. “During our wedding ceremony on the island, at that moment you came from the sea, something about all the pre-wedding rituals, everything about it felt real and I wanted to be married to you. I accepted you, Ashok, as my man the moment I stopped fighting what I felt. I said ‘I do’ to Ashok, to the man who knew me like no other, the one who knew what I wanted even before I realized it and most of all, learning to deal with me and showing me what it means to love and be loved deeply.”
Her voice became thick with emotion. “I said ‘I do’ to the man who sees me for who I am with all my tantrums and fears. Just me. Monisha.YourIsha.”
Ashok felt something crack open in his chest, something that had been carefully guarded for so long. “You undo me,” he whispered. “Completely.”
