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As the weight of the recent revelations begins to lift, Dad playfully nudges me with the next question, “Okay, my dear prince, did you speak to my daughter-in-law about your honeymoon?”
I’m caught off guard again, realising I haven’t discussed this with my wife yet. The past week has been a whirlwind of emotions, and amidst supporting Raghav and managing the aftermath, the idea of a honeymoon took a backseat.
Dad reads my blank expression and sighs.
“Come on, Ayaan. Now that everything is back to normal, it’s the right time for the newlyweds to take a break. Take Meher away for a week or more.”
He is right. I need to talk to Meher about this right away. Meher and I need this break, a chance to reconnect and create memories away from the shadows of the past. The thought of spending quality time together is a welcome distraction from the serious issues that have consumed us recently.
Raghav’s departure for rehab signals a three-month window where he’ll be focusing on his recovery, providing me with a brief respite to look into the other pressing matters. The upcoming months are crucial for the Shergills as we will have to support Pratap Walia in the elections, a commitment that will demand our attention and efforts. Furthermore, after the elections, Meher will be busy preparing for Devika’s baby shower, an event she’s eagerly looking forward to celebrating.
I turn back to Dad and nod in agreement.
“I’ll speak to her right away,” I say before heading straight to the door. Dad’s chuckle echoes behind me as I shut the door and start looking for Meher. I wonder where she is. For the first time since our wedding, I realise she woke up before me today. Curiosity tugs at me, wondering why and where she may be at this moment.
I walk through the familiar corridors of our home, searching for my wife. The house help on the stairs informs me that she’s in the kitchen. I raise my brows in surprise, given that Meher usually doesn’t venture into culinary activities voluntarily.
As I approach the kitchen, a delicious aroma wafts through the air, captivating my senses. When I reach the doorway, I witness a sight that warms my heart. There she is, my wife Meher, standing in front of the stove, deeply engrossed in the process of making Uttapam. She knows how much Dad and I love South Indian breakfast. The sounds of the batter sizzling on the hot tawa, the rhythmic circular movements and the aromatic blend of spices fill the room.
Meher looks different today, not in appearance, but in spirit. Her happiness, contentment, and excitement for cooking are palpable. It’s a rare moment, and I find myself silently appreciating the simplicity and beauty of this scene — the woman I love engaged in a domestic chore with genuine enthusiasm. Usually, I receive her admiration every day when I make breakfast for us. Today, it’s the other way around.
Deciding to surprise her, I tiptoe into the kitchen and wrap my arms around her from behind. The touch of her soft skin beneath my fingertips, the comforting scent of her hair — it’s a tender and intimate moment amidst the everyday routine, the best of them all. I press kisses on her neck as she gasps at my sudden intrusion into her activity.
“Smells delicious,” I murmur, my lips grazing her earlobe.
“Are you referring to the Uttapam?” My ever-playful wife teases me.
“Of course, the Uttapam. What else could possibly smell this delicious?” I tease her back.
She retaliates by playfully hitting my arm with the spatula. Chuckling, I respond by gently biting her cheek and planting a couple of kisses on the same spot.
“You… You smell delicious. The Uttapams don’t stand a chance before you,” I say with a playful yet sincere tone. It’s not just about the food; it’s about the atmosphere she has created in our home today. The warmth of her presence in the kitchen, her efforts in cooking and the simple joy of sharing these ordinary moments together make everything special.
The delightful aroma of Uttapams fills the kitchen. I decide to act as a gallant sous chef and gently move her away, retrieving the cooked Uttapam from the pan and turning off the stove.”
“Ayaan, I’m not done yet. I have to make a few more,” she protests, showcasing her commitment to her newfound cooking venture.
I hush her with a playful grin and effortlessly pick her up, settling her on the marble countertop at the centre of the kitchen. With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I position myself between her legs.
“You can cook as much as you want, but I have an important question to ask my queen first,” I declare, my tone filled with a hint of mischievousness. She runs her fingers through my hair, her lips curving into a smile.
“You have two minutes,” she replies impishly. “Be quick.”
Her expression shows that her playful banter hints at something more than just a conversation. Two minutes are insufficient; hell, even an hour is not enough for me to love my wife the way I want to. Leaning in, I press myself against her before lifting her chin and kissing her passionately. Meher’s eyes widen in surprise, but she quickly surrenders to the moment, reciprocating with equal passion. The world seems to fade away as we lose ourselves in the warmth of the moment. There’s a tenderness in the way our lips meet, a familiarity that makes us want more. Meher moans when I suck her tongue. Her palms scoop my face, kissing me fervently. The initial slow and deliberate kiss turns hot and wild, making my lower body hard. I can feel the intensity building between us, but discussing this topic is vital now. I squeeze her waist and bury my face into her neck once, inhaling deeply before pulling away. Meher looks dazed yet content as I wipe away the lingering wetness at the corner of her mouth.
“The King wants to take you for a honeymoon. Is my Queen ready for that?”
Meher’s eyes light up with joy at the unexpected announcement.
“Yes, Yes, Yes,” she screams enthusiastically.
“Good. Then pick a destination,” I declare, watching her growing excitement.
“Austria,” she responds without a moment’s hesitation.
I’m secretly thrilled she chose the place where I have lived for all these years as our honeymoon destination. I can’t wait to show her our chalet. She will love it.
I peck her nose before tapping it once.
