chapter 7

The night was calm as Jeevika and Abhiman returned to their home after the reception, the echoes of the evening still lingering in the air. The glow of the city lights streamed through the large bedroom windows, casting a serene ambiance that seemed to embrace them in its warmth. After the overwhelming celebration filled with laughter, family, and endless well-wishers, the quietness felt almost foreign, but welcome.

Abhiman closed the door behind them, his steps slower and more measured now that they were finally alone. He turned to Jeevika, a soft smile playing on his lips. She looked beautiful, radiant even after such a long and emotional day. The delicate embroidery of her lehenga shimmered under the soft lighting, and her eyes—though tired—were full of a quiet strength that had captivated him.

“It’s finally over,” he said with a small chuckle, referring to the long day of ceremonies. “You must be exhausted.”

Jeevika returned the smile, her nerves fluttering in her chest. The day had been a whirlwind of emotions for both of them—excitement, nervousness, and everything in between. But now, standing in their shared bedroom, a different kind of emotion took over. There was a strange mix of anticipation and unease. This was the first night they were truly alone as husband and wife.

Abhiman approached her slowly, his smile softening into an affectionate gaze. He gently cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. His touch was gentle, tender, a reflection of the care he had shown her since the wedding. Then, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. It was tender, not rushed, and held the promise of patience and understanding. Yet, Jeevika’s heart raced, not from desire, but from uncertainty.

She hadn’t been prepared for this moment, not emotionally, not mentally. The intimacy felt too sudden, too overwhelming. Her body stiffened slightly, her breath catching in her throat.

Abhiman felt her hesitation immediately. He pulled back, his brows knitting together in concern. “Jeevika?” His voice was soft, and his eyes searched hers. “Are you okay?”

She nodded but couldn’t quite meet his gaze. There was a lump in her throat, a knot of emotions she hadn’t fully untangled yet. She felt embarrassed for feeling this way, for not being able to step into the role of the perfect wife as easily as she thought she should.

“I’m sorry,” Abhiman said quietly, stepping back to give her space. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’ll give you some time.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked toward the bathroom, leaving her standing in the middle of the room, still unsure of what she was feeling. The door clicked softly behind him, and Jeevika let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands shaking slightly. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him—on the contrary, Abhiman had been nothing but respectful since the beginning. But this was all so new, so intimate, and she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be.

In the bathroom, Abhiman stared at his reflection in the mirror, his hands gripping the edges of the sink. He hadn’t meant to rush her. He knew Jeevika needed time to adjust, but in his eagerness to show his affection, he’d forgotten how overwhelming this transition could be for her. He took a deep breath, silently promising himself to be more patient, to give her the space she needed.

When he emerged, he had changed into his nightwear, a simple white shirt and loose pajama bottoms. Jeevika, too, had slipped into a soft nightgown, her bridal attire carefully folded away. The room felt different now, quieter, but with an understanding that hadn’t been there before.

They both climbed into bed, the rustling of the sheets the only sound between them. The silence wasn’t awkward, though; it felt necessary, like both of them were processing the emotions of the day.

Abhiman reached over and gently kissed Jeevika on the forehead, a gesture so tender that it melted away the tension that had been building inside her. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, her body slowly relaxing under his gentle touch. His fingers brushed her hair, tucking it behind her ear before his hand rested on her shoulder, pulling her just a little closer.

“Goodnight, Jeevika,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing.

She settled into the warmth of his embrace, her head resting on his chest. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a calming sound that made her feel safe, protected. As her breathing evened out, she realized that she wasn’t afraid anymore. His patience, his tenderness—it was everything she needed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered back, her voice barely audible.

Abhiman frowned slightly, confusion crossing his face. “For what?”

“For... for not being ready,” she admitted, feeling the weight of those words lift from her chest. “I just need a little more time.”

Abhiman’s frown softened into a small smile. He kissed the top of her head, his arm tightening around her. “You don’t have to apologize for that,” he said gently. “I’ll wait. As long as you need. There’s no rush.”

Her eyes filled with unexpected tears, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming relief that came from his words. She had been so afraid that he might expect more from her, that she wouldn’t meet those expectations. But now, in his arms, with his quiet promise, she felt at peace.

The room settled into a comfortable quiet as they lay there, wrapped in each other’s warmth. The city lights outside cast soft shadows on the walls, but inside their little cocoon, there was only the stillness of their shared breath and the steady rise and fall of their chests.

Jeevika drifted into sleep, her heart lighter than it had been in days, knowing that when she was ready, Abhiman would be there—patient, understanding, and always waiting with open arms.

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