𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐇

I saw her, slowly stepping into the room, looking for her husband.

I didn't want to touch her without her consent... but damn it-she pulls me in like a magnet every single time.

Her skin... too soft. Soft enough that I'm scared every time I touch her, scared I might hold on too long.

She was clutching the paper bag tightly to her chest. My poor baby-how easily she gets scared when I'm not around, yet turns into a lioness when I am. I like that. I like every damn move she makes when I'm near her. At least she feels safe with me.

I walked toward her slowly. She was scanning the empty room, completely unaware I was right behind her.

Her fragrance... God. I bent my head toward her neck, close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, and whispered:

"Apne pati ko dhoond rahi ho, Devi?"

She spun around, her eyes wide-like she'd just seen some kind of ghost.

Her balance wavered, and before she could hit the ground, my arms caught her. My gaze met hers-still startled, but slowly softening.

"Main ek pal ko tumhari nazron se gayab kya, tum toh girne padne lagi," I said, my grip still holding her steady.

She shot back instantly, breath uneven,

"Ab aise achanak bhooton ki tarah peeche aaoge toh darr toh lagega hi na!" she snapped, clutching her chest in mock fear.

"Ab mujhe chhodiye... main ghar jaana chahti hoon."

She tried to run, but I caught her wrist effortlessly. "Apne pati ke bina kaise jaogi?"

We crossed the hall, her furious gaze practically burning holes in my back. I knew-without a doubt-she was already cursing me in at least five different ways.

Just as we reached the cottage door, a loud crack of thunder rolled across the sky. I paused instinctively. The air was heavy, the sky bruised with grey clouds, and the first raindrops had begun to fall.

"Why did you stop now? And why are you still holding my hand? Am I some five-year-old?" she demanded.

"Aadat hai," I murmured, still watching the clouds.

She frowned. "Kya matlab aadat hai? Sabke haath pakad kar aise hi ghoomte ho kya?"

"Bas... tumhara haath pakadne ka aadi hoon."

She blinked, at a rare loss for words.

Before she could reply, a cheer erupted from behind us-children rushing out, squealing, "It's raining! It's raining!" Their laughter spilled into the air like music.

Her irritation melted instantly into excitement; I could see the exact moment her eyes lit up. She tugged at her hand, but I tightened my grip. Not happening.

"Pati ji, please... leave my hand. I really want to enjoy the rain. Last time, you didn't let me and I was scared of you so I didn't say anything to you, but please let me go now."

Her voice was pleading, not scared anymore, and I hated that my own resolve wavered.

"Please... jane dijiye. Pakka main zyada nahin bhigoongi... bas thodi si." She even held her fingers close together to show me what 'thodi si' meant, her eyes wide and imploring.

Those puppy eyes... they were my undoing. I sighed, loosening my grip.

The moment I let go, her smile exploded across her face, she left her sandals and ran barefoot ,

"Devi, be careful!" I called out seeing her energy, but she didn't even turn.

She darted away from me, straight into the giggling crowd of children, as if the rain had cast some childish spell on her. She twirled with them-arms open, laughter spilling out, her saree clinging tighter with each spin-completely forgetting the world, forgetting her husband who now stood helplessly in the corner, watching her as if she were a storm only I could stop or walk into.

And damn the rain. Damn the filthy puddles that splashed under her bare feet. She was jumping into them now, sending muddy water in every direction-my direction too, if she noticed at all. Such reckless, childish behavior...

Her long hair, now drenched, whipped around her face as she spun again. Those baby hairs-soft, stubborn-clung to her wet cheeks. She brushed them back only to have the wind toss them forward again. She was a mess. A wild, breathtaking mess.

And I hated it.

Yet I couldn't look away.

How could someone find joy in wet mud, cold water, and messy hair?

And yet how could someone look so damn adorable in this,

She lifted her arms wide, face tilted towards the sky, eyes closed in pure abandon. The rain caressed her cheeks first, then slid down her neck, tracing a shimmering path before soaking into the thin fabric of her blouse... and finally spilling over the smooth curve of her belly.

Her belly...My gaze stilled -on her bare navel glistening under the silver curtain of rain. A quick glance around told me no other man was in sight. Good. If they had been, I would've made sure they disappeared from the earth.

That was enough-my patience finally spoke up. I signaled to the ashram's female workers who looked after the children, and they immediately began guiding them inside the cottage. Now, it was time to have some privacy with my little wife.

A slow smirk tugged at my lips as I began walking towards her, silent and deliberate. She didn't notice-too lost in the rhythm of the downpour, spinning slightly as the water clung to her.

Her saree, now drenched, clung to her like a second skin, outlining every intoxicating curve with scandalous precision. Too stunning. Far too stunning.

I ran my hand through my wet hair, but it did nothing to cool the heat rising in me. Her beauty wasn't just drawing me in-it was pulling me under, deeper, into something far more dangerous than rain.

My face dipped close, shielding hers from the rain. She slowly opened her eyes, startled to find the drops no longer falling on her skin. Our gazes locked-intense, unblinking-and I felt her instinctively step back. But before she could retreat, my arm had already caged her against my chest, my other hand finding the soft curve of her hip.

Her eyes widened, a mix of shock and disbelief flickering in them. Her palms pressed against my chest, as if unsure whether to push me away or hold on. Her wet lips-plump, flushed, glistening like ripe cherries under the rain-quivered ever so slightly. I could feel the uneven rhythm of her heartbeat through the thin space between us.

"Jee toh kar raha hai," I murmured, my voice low and rough, "abhi tumhare inn hothon ka sara ras pee jaoon... par kya karoon, majboor hoon."

My grip on her hip tightened. She jerked slightly, trying to twist free. "Wh... what are you doing? H-hatayiye haath... everyone is watching."

"No one is watching, Devi," I whispered, our lips now just a breath apart. She darted her gaze around, searching for eyes on us-but the world had blurred into rain and thunder.

I pulled her closer, my hand pressing her hip again, making her gasp and look up at me sharply. Her fingers tried to pry mine away, but I wasn't ready to let go.

A sudden crack of thunder split the sky, sharp enough to make her flinch. And in that single heartbeat, instinct drowned out resistance-her face found my chest, her arms clutching me as if I were the only steady thing in the storm.

Our first hug. Tentative... trembling... yet achingly real. My heart pounded far too fast for something so simple, and yet it didn't feel simple at all. It was as if she wasn't just holding me-she was holding a piece of my very soul.

But then... why the hell were my hands shaking? No-not just my hands. My whole body trembled. Was it the rain's chill... or the heat of her closeness?

My palms slid from her hips to the curve of her back, pulling her closer, as if that would quiet the storm inside me. I pressed a slow, lingering kiss into her damp hair, letting the scent of rain and the fragile warmth of her seep deep into my skin.

When I lifted my gaze, my eyes found her lips-soft, trembling, almost unsure. She looked up at me, and we were too close... close enough that she shut her eyes, a silent invitation written in the stillness between us.

But instead of claiming her mouth, my lips brushed her temple-gentle, almost reverent. And in that simple touch, a different kind of warmth spread through me. It wasn't fire; it was peace. A peace so rare, so intoxicating, that all I wanted in that moment was to hold her in every breath, every second... so she could never slip away.

She blinked, startled, and tried to pull back, but I didn't let her. Instead, I bent, slid an arm beneath her legs, and lifted her clean off the ground. She gasped softly, her arms instinctively circling my neck, her warmth stark against the cool rush of rain.

"That's enough for now," I murmured, my voice low, roughened by something I couldn't name. "Ab Iss barish mein tumhari itni garmi mujhse bardasht nahi hogi, Devi"

Her head jerked up a little, confusion flickering in her wide eyes. "Hnh? Wh- What... Do you mean?" Her voice was caught somewhere between bewilderment and the racing thud of her heartbeat.

"Nothing," I replied, the faintest smile tugging at my lips, offering no explanation.

She narrowed her eyes, wet strands clinging stubbornly to her cheeks. "Mujhe aap... aur aapki baatein... bilkul samajh nahi aati."

Pyaar se samajhne ki koshish karo meri saari batein samajh ajayengi.. I held her tighter, carrying her through the rain-letting her wonder, letting her feel every silent word I hadn't yet spoken.

I carried her to one of the private rooms in the cottages. Inside, the air was warmer, though still touched with the faint scent of damp wood. Gently, I set her down on the floor. And made here wear the slippers kept on the corner,

Her saree clinging to her body like a second skin every fold heavy with rainwater. She stood there, shivering ever so slightly, and I knew if she stayed in this state any longer, a high fever would be inevitable.

"Stay here," I said, keeping my tone calm despite the worry simmering in my chest. "I'll get someone to bring you dry clothes."

She simply nodded, eyes lowered, droplets tracing the curve of her cheek. For a moment, I wanted to reach out, to brush them away, but I forced myself to step back.

I turned and left to call one of the ladies from the ashram, my footsteps quick, the image of her-drenched, fragile, and silently enduring-still burning in my mind.

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐊𝐀

I watched him step outside, his words still lingering in the air. I knew what he wanted to say-at least, I thought I did-but somehow, his voice carried a mystery I couldn't untangle.

And maybe... I didn't want to.

Perhaps the answers would come when the time was right. Until then, I didn't care to search for them. Not now. Not when his presence was enough to make me feel as if no storm could ever touch me.

I didn't know what bond tied us together, or how he seemed to know me in ways I couldn't explain. But somewhere deep inside, I felt it-an invisible thread between us. Something unseen... yet impossible to ignore.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

An elderly woman stood in the doorway, her frame small but steady.

"Beti, here your clothes," she said in a gentle voice. I didn't understand the words, but the folded bundle in her hands told me enough-she had brought clothes for me.

"Ji," I murmured with a small smile, accepting them. I turned toward the bathroom, but as I glanced back, I saw she hadn't left.

"Grandma, please don't stand outside... come and sit here," I said softly. She nodded and stepped inside with slow, careful movements,

After changing into the dry clothes, I stepped out of the bathroom, towel in hand, gently soaking my hair. When my gaze lifted, I found the old lady watching me with a soft, almost tender smile.

I smiled back and walked toward her. "What happened, Grandma? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Her smile widened, a flicker of excitement in her eyes. "Tum... Devika ho na?"

"Ji," I said, a curious thrill in my chest. "I'm Devika. Devika Chakraborty. But... how do you know me?"

"Bangla," she said softly.

"Ji," I replied, my curiosity sharpening.

She beckoned me closer with a slow gesture. I bent toward her, and she cupped my face in her weathered palms. Then, without a word, she pressed her lips to my forehead.

My eyes closed instinctively. There was something in her touch-her hands trembled slightly, yet they carried the warmth of someone deeply familiar. Why... why did it feel like the touch of my own blood, of someone who had loved me all my life?

When I opened my eyes, she was still holding my face, her gaze shimmering with unshed tears.

"Amar mon anondito hoye geylo tumake dekhe... tumi jano na tomar ei bridho dida tomake koto bhabhe chilo," she murmured.

(My heart is content after seeing you... you don't know how much your old grandma has been thinking about you.)

Did she truly know me? Or... was she seeing the face of her lost daughter in mine?

Maybe.

But my heart-unexpectedly-was swelling with emotion I couldn't quite name.

"Khoma karun," I whispered. "Amar kono dida nei... kintu tumi amaye apnar meyer moto bhabhte paren."

(Forgive me... I have no grandmother, but you may think of me as your daughter.)

A faint chuckle slipped from her lips. "You... you just don't remember me, daughter. But don't worry... just as he found you, he will also give you back your memories."

Her words sent a strange shiver through me, but before I could ask more, I tried to guide her to rest. "Khoma korun... apnar kotha ami bujhte parchi na. Apni ektu bishram korun. Ami amar shaami ke dekhe aai."

(Forgive me, I can't understand what you are saying. Please take some rest. I'll go check on my husband and come back.)

I turned to leave, but her frail hand shot out, gripping my wrist with surprising strength. I looked back.

"This... all of this is yours," she said with quiet certainty. "Your mother and his mother... they both made it for you and him."

I saw her, I wanted to say something but I wasn't able, as if my words stuck on my throat,

Memories which type of memories, why this things are messing up, my mother and father they're in west bengal they didn't belong to here, than what this lady is saying about,

" Devi " ,

Before I could think or tell anything I heard and my gaze snapped towards the door, he was standing there,

**********************************

Here's the chapter enjoy it,

Also I have a story again from my life,

So I was going my home from by the train, and local trains are too crowdy..

So I had a key chain given by someone special, it had my name written on it,

And someone took it,

Someone took it in the train,

I cried like hell, it was my birthday gift, maybe it was normal but it was so speciao to me and someone snatched it from my bag....

Aur tab mujhe samajh aya kyun lagaya tha maine ise apne nag mein, ek vaari yaad karke khol leti,

Par mujhe kya pata hai ajkal aapke naam ke key chain churane wale log bhi hote hai.... 🥲

Btw Radhe Radhe and advanced shubh janmashtami to my beautiful sisters...