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Opening the door, I am greeted by a middle-aged woman who is dressed in uniform. God, not another lackey. I am not surprised that Ranveer hires skilled house staff dressed in uniform. But I guess with the kind of money he has, this must be indispensable. I wonder if I will ever get used to this kind of lavish life. Even though money was not a concern during my childhood, my parents brought me up with simple living, believing in the minimalistic approach.
“Morning.” My sleepy greeting is met by her sweet voice.
“Good morning, Ma’am, I am Rosy, your new chef,” she bows and introduces herself.
I nod. “It’s nice meeting you, Rosy.”
“Ma’am, Sir asked me to inform you that he’s expecting you at the breakfast table.”
I scrunch up my face, trying to concentrate on what she just said. Now what does he want from me? God, please, I don’t want to start my day yet again with another bitter dissension.
“Did he say why?” I ask cautiously.
“He is waiting to have breakfast with you, Ma’am. And he even cooked today,” she replies with a courteous smile.
“Did you say he cooked?” I shake my ear in disbelief, not sure if I heard her right.
“That’s right, Ma’am.” Her voice is obviously laced with tease and her smile almost reaches both ears.
Instantly, all my sleepiness vanishes. Did he really cook for me? That’s kind of sweet of him. My heart softens at his gesture. But my emotions shift from appreciation to outrage when I think back to the bodyguard he hired for me.
“How about you tell him that I don’t wish to get a tummy ache, or worse, food poisoning?”
“Sorry?” she stammers, looking nervous.
Poor lady. I take pity on her nerves and smile, “Just joking. Give me a few minutes to freshen up, and I’ll be there. Thank you, Rosy.”
“You’re welcome, Ma’am.” She turns and walks away.
Closing the door, I saunter to the bathroom. A silly grin creeps on my lips. He cooked for me. My heart shouts out with joy but my brain intervenes. It’s no big deal. It’s only breakfast. What’s so noteworthy about it? And why are you smiling like a fool? My heart and brain wrestle as I stand in front of the mirror. In the end, my stupid heart wins which can’t control itself from the giddy excitement taking over.
I wash my face and brush my teeth after which I walk down the stairs and head directly to the dining table, all the time trying to muster up at least some fury for him being a chauvinist pig. But as soon as I see him dressed in his black suit, typing something on his mobile, all my annoyance disappears, and I can’t help but notice how handsome he looks. Of course, my change of heart might have been skewed by the fact that he is wearing a suit right now. Damn! I am such a sucker for him being dressed in a suit. When he notices me, the corner of his lips lifts as he rises to his feet. Oh, my goodness! That smile. How do I stay mad at him with him beaming at me like that?
“Morning, Wifey. I missed you last night for dinner.” He bends down and kisses my forehead.
I control myself not to glower at him disapprovingly, as I swallow hard and force back my annoyance. I suppose we can start with a clean slate today and behave as if nothing happened yesterday.
“Good morning.” A faint smile flickers across my face, even though my mind is not in favour of letting him off the hook.
“I hope you like French toast and Oreo shake?” He pulls a chair for me, and I can’t help not to blush.
“Love them.”
“I am glad to hear that.” He smiles, taking his seat beside me.
“Thanks,” I say nodding as he places four slices of French toast on my plate and pours the glass of milkshake. I just smile and don’t say anything.
“Alisha?”
“Hmm?” I look at him as I take a bite of my French toast.
“I’m sorry about the bodyguard. I should have discussed this with you first. However, my apprehension got the better of me. But Alisha, you need to understand this is how I am with the people who matter to me. And you, my dear wife, you’re my whole world. You’re more than I ever dreamed of, more than I deserve, and more than I’ll ever need.”
I gulp, dazed at his words that sends a shiver down my spine. I stare at him in speechless shock. Each time he does something like this, he captures a piece of my heart.
He takes my hands in his and kisses them lightly. “Look, I understand. I totally get that you are a self-dependent woman. Trust me, I am not against the idea of you being independent. But walking at odd hours in clubs without protection is not sensible. This world is not safe and filled with lunatics, Alisha. I’m a man, and I can protect myself. But you’re a woman….”
“So, you mean to say I’m weak because I am a woman?”
