Abhimaan 's pov:
I watched as Deep hastily excused himself, his eyes lingering on Mayura for a fraction of a second before he turned and disappeared into the crowd. My gaze shifted to my wife, my Jaana, and my heart tightened as I saw her gazing after him, a mix of emotions playing on her face.
I felt a surge of possessiveness, my mind racing with thoughts of whether she still had feelings for him. The way she looked at him, the way she smiled, it all seemed so familiar, so intimate. I couldn't help but wonder if I was just a replacement, a substitute for the love she truly desired.
"Jaana," I said, my voice low and husky, trying to keep my emotions in check.
She turned to me, her eyes sparkling with a hint of defensiveness. "Stop staring, Abhi," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "I just can't believe my old best friend is here. I missed him a lot."
I raised an eyebrow, my eyes never leaving hers. "You missed him?" I repeated, my tone neutral.
Mayura sighed, her shoulders relaxing. "Yes, Abhi, I missed him. We were inseparable once. But that doesn't mean I have feelings for him beyond friendship."
I searched her eyes, seeking the truth, seeking reassurance. And in that moment, I knew she was telling the truth. Her eyes were clear, her gaze unwavering.
"No need to get over possessive, husband," she said, her voice teasing, her hand reaching out to brush against mine.
I smiled, my tension easing, my heart still racing but no longer fueled by jealousy. I knew I had nothing to fear. Mayura was mine, and I was hers. Our bond was unbreakable.
Deep Rathore's pov:
I, Deep Rathore, sat alone in my dark apartment, surrounded by the shadows of my past. My mind wandered back to the days when Mayura was more than just a friend to me. I remembered the way she would confide in me, sharing her fears and dreams, and how I would listen intently, offering words of encouragement.
I recalled the day I bought her a silver necklace, trying to ease her pain and sorrow. She had smiled, her eyes sparkling with gratitude, and in that moment, I knew I was in love with her. But I never had the courage to tell her, fearing it would ruin our friendship.
As time passed, Mayura's family arranged her marriage to the King of Rajasthan, Abhimaan Deep Shekhawat. I was devastated, feeling like I had lost her forever. But I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, knowing she was destined for greatness.
Now, as I sit here, surrounded by the remnants of our past, I can't help but feel a sense of longing. I know I'm no match for the king, but I can't help the way I feel. I want to make Mayura mine, to show her that I'm more than just a friend.
I remember the days we spent learning self-defense and hacking together. She was a quick learner, and I was proud to be her teacher. I taught her how to be strong, how to defend herself, and how to navigate the dark corners of the internet.
But most of all, I remember the way she made me feel. She saw me as a best friend, but I knew I was more than that. I was her confidant, her partner in crime, and her protector.
As I sit here, lost in thought, I know I have to make a move. I can't just sit back and watch her live her life with someone else. I have to try, no matter how impossible it seems. I have to show her that I'm the one who truly understands her, who truly loves her for who she is.
With a newfound determination, I rise from my chair, ready to face whatever challenges come my way. I know it won't be easy, but I'm willing to fight for her, to show her that I'm the one who deserves her love.
Abhimaan 's pov :
As I entered the room, I was met with the sight of my beautiful wife, Mayura, curled up on the couch, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. The day had slipped away, and she had spent it all lost in the pages of her beloved dark romance novels. I couldn't help but smile, wondering how much she loved those books, how much they transported her to a world of passion and drama.
I approached her quietly, not wanting to disturb her peaceful slumber. But as I drew closer, my eyes drinking in the sight of her, I felt my heart swell with love and adoration. Her hair was a tangled mess, her lips slightly parted, and her skin radiant in the soft light of the room.
I sat down beside her, my movements gentle, and reached out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. My fingers grazed her skin, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. I leaned in, my lips whispering a soft kiss on her forehead, feeling her warmth, her scent, her very essence.
As I pulled back, my eyes roamed over her face, taking in the gentle curves of her cheeks, the softness of her eyelids, the delicate shape of her nose. She was a work of art, a masterpiece, and I was the lucky one who got to call her mine.
I caressed her hair, my fingers tangling in the silky strands, my touch gentle, loving. "You are mine, Jaana," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "You'll always be mine, just as much as I belong to you."
In that moment, I made a promise to her, to myself, to our love. I vowed to cherish her, to protect her, to love her with every fiber of my being. I knew that our love was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, a rare and precious thing, and I was determined to hold onto it, to nurture it, to make it grow stronger with each passing day.
As I sat there, holding her, loving her, I knew that I would never let her go. She was my everything, my reason for being, my Jaana. And I was hers, her Abhimaan, her love, her forever.
As I lifted Mayura into my arms, her body relaxed into mine, trusting and pliable. I carried her out of the car , the evening air enveloping us in its warm embrace. The palace loomed ahead, its grandeur and beauty a fitting backdrop for our love story.
I settled her into the car, my hands gentle as I buckled her in. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open, a soft smile spreading across her face. "Abhi," she whispered, her voice husky with sleep.
"Jaana," I replied, my voice low and tender. "We're home."
The drive was short, the palace gates opening with a soft creak as we approached. I carried her into the grand foyer, the chandeliers casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the marble floor.
In one week, we would stand before the world, our love on full display as we exchanged vows in a grand, official ceremony. The thought sent a thrill through me, my heart swelling with pride and joy.
But for now, I just wanted to hold her, to cherish her, to love her in the privacy of our own little world. I carried her up the stairs, our bedroom door closing behind us with a soft click.
And as I laid her on the bed, my body covering hers, our love became the only thing that mattered. The world outside receded, leaving only the two of us, lost in our own little bubble of happiness.
Mayura's pov :
I woke up with a stretch, my body feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. But as I reached out for Abhimaan, my hand closed on empty air. He was gone, but I knew he wouldn't be far. I smiled to myself, feeling a flutter in my chest. We were finally getting married, officially, in front of the whole world.
I got out of bed, my feet sinking into the plush carpet. The bathroom beckoned, and I spent a leisurely hour getting ready, my skin glowing with a soft sheen. I dressed in a beautiful kurti , the colors vibrant and festive.
As I made my way downstairs, my heart raced with excitement. The palace was buzzing with activity, servants scurrying about, flowers being arranged, and the sound of music drifting through the air. I spotted Abhimaan's mother, my maa, and rushed to hug her.
"Good morning, beta," she said, her eyes shining with happiness. "Today's the day! The wedding rituals are about to start."
I nodded, my eyes wide with wonder. I hadn't noticed the arrangements, but now I saw that the whole palace was being transformed into a wedding wonderland. Flowers and garlands adorned the walls, and the sound of drums and shehnai filled the air.
"Come, let's get ready," Maa said, leading me to the courtyard.
As we walked, I felt like a bride, my heart full of joy and love. Abhimaan was waiting for me, his eyes locking onto mine with a possessive gleam. I smiled, my heart skipping a beat. This was it, our moment, our day.
"Whole one week left, Maa!" I exclaimed, my excitement barely contained.
Maa's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Ah, beta, it's not just any week. It's the day of wedding shopping!"
My eyes widened as I realized what she meant. "Abhimaan and I get to choose our outfits for the rituals?"
Maa nodded, her smile growing wider. "Yes, and I want you to go with him to select the perfect attire. It's a special tradition, just for the two of you."
I felt a thrill run through me at the thought of spending the day with Abhimaan, browsing through fabrics and colors, our hands touching as we explored the possibilities.
"Come, let's get ready," Maa said, leading me to the car.
As we drove through the city, the sun casting a warm glow over everything, I felt like a bride-to-be, my heart full of joy and anticipation. Abhimaan's hand brushed against mine, sending shivers down my spine.
We arrived at the designer's studio, and the next few hours were a whirlwind of color and beauty. Abhimaan's eyes roamed over me, his gaze burning with intensity as we selected each outfit.
"I want to see you in this," he whispered, holding up a stunning red lehenga.
I blushed, my heart racing, as I imagined myself in the outfit, Abhimaan's eyes devouring me.
Together, we created a vision of beauty, our love and laughter woven into every thread and fabric.
As I stepped into the trial room, and he came behind me , the door clicked shut behind us, enveloping us in a cozy intimacy. maa was busy on the other side choosing the other dresses. Abhimaan's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze burning with desire. I felt my heart race, my skin tingling with anticipation.
He approached me slowly, his hands reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers grazed my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
"Jaana," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion.
I smiled, my lips parting slightly as he drew closer. His eyes dropped to my mouth, his own lips curving into a gentle smile.
The first kiss was soft, a whisper of skin against skin. I felt my eyes flutter closed, my heart melting into his touch. His lips traced mine, gentle and exploratory, as if rediscovering the contours of my mouth.
I leaned into him, my hands rising to his chest, feeling the warmth of his body. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close, deepening the kiss.
Time stood still as we lost ourselves in the gentle dance of lips and tongues. The world outside receded, leaving only the two of us, lost in our own little bubble of love.
As I stood in the trial room, changing into the lehenga, Abhimaan's fingers traced gentle patterns on my back. I felt a shiver run down my spine as his touch sent waves of pleasure through me.
And then, his fingers stilled, and he wrote three words on my skin: "I love you".
I gasped, my heart skipping a beat as I felt the words sear into my soul. I turned to him, my eyes locking onto his, and saw the depth of his emotion shining bright.
"Abhi," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
He pulled me close, his lips claiming mine in a soft, sweet kiss. "Jaana, I love you," he whispered against my lips. "Forever and always."
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I felt my heart overflow with love. "I love you too, Abhi," I replied, my voice trembling. "Forever and always."
In that moment, our love became the only truth that mattered. And as we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, I knew that our love would last a lifetime.
"Abhi, I need to change," I said, trying to push him away.
"What's there to hide, Jaana? I've already seen everything," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
I blushed, feeling a flutter in my chest. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Maybe a little," he admitted, his voice low and husky.
I playfully hit his chest. "You're impossible."
He pulled me close, his lips whispering against my ear. "That's why you love me."
I smiled, my heart racing. "Maybe a little."
Abhimaan's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze burning with intensity. He pulled me close, his hands wrapping around my waist, possessiveness radiating from every pore.
"I want to see myself in your eyes," he whispered, his breath hot against my skin.
He pushed me against the mirror, our reflections staring back at us. His lips claimed mine, the kiss deep and devouring. I felt like I was drowning in his passion, his love.
His hands roamed over my body, claiming every inch of me. I felt like I was his, completely and utterly.
As we broke apart for air, our eyes met in the mirror. His gaze was fierce, possessive, and I knew in that moment, I was his forever.
"Mine," he whispered, his voice low and husky.
"Yours," I replied, my voice barely audible.
And with that, our lips met again, the kiss sealing our fate, our love, our possessiveness.
I finally managed to push Abhimaan out of the trial room, his chuckle echoing through the door as it closed behind him. I couldn't help but smile, my heart still racing from our intimate moment.
I changed back into my comfortable kurti, my mind replaying the way Abhimaan's eyes had devoured me in the lehenga. I had to admit, it was perfect. The way it hugged my curves, the way the color brought out my skin tone... I couldn't wait for him to see me on our wedding day.
I took a deep breath, my excitement building. Our wedding day was going to be everything I had dreamed of, and more. With Abhimaan by my side, I knew we would create a lifetime of memories together.
I took a step back, my eyes locked onto Deep's, and felt a shiver run down my spine. His question, "What are you doing here, doll ?" seemed innocent enough, but the way he asked it, his tone and gaze, made me feel like I was being interrogated.
I noticed the change in him immediately. The old Deep, the one I had grown up with, the one who had always made me feel safe and protected like an elder brother, was nowhere to be found. This Deep, the one standing in front of me, was different. His eyes seemed harder, his jawline more pronounced, his entire demeanor radiating an aura of intensity and possessiveness.
I felt a flutter in my chest, my heart racing slightly. "I...I was just trying on some outfits," I stuttered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Deep's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing through me. "Trying on outfits?" he repeated, his tone laced with skepticism. "Here? Alone?"
I felt a surge of defensiveness, my eyes flashing with annoyance. "What's it to you, Deep?" I asked, my voice was a little stronger now.
Deep's expression didn't change, but his eyes seemed to bore into my soul. "I'm just looking out for you, doll ," he said, his voice low and even. "Like I always have."
But his words didn't reassure me. Instead, they made me feel trapped and suffocated. I realized, in that moment, that I didn't know this Deep, this new, intense, possessive Deep. And that realization scared me.
I turned to leave, but my eyes locked onto Abhimaan's retreating figure. He had been watching us, and I could tell by the stiffness in his shoulders that he had misunderstood the situation. My heart sank as he turned and walked away, not even giving me a chance to explain.
I rushed after him, but Deep's hand shot out, grasping my arm and pulling me back. "Let him go, Jaana," he sneered. "He doesn't trust you, and he doesn't love you. You're just a possession to him, a trophy to be won."
My eyes flashed with anger, and I tried to shake off his grip. "That's not true!" I protested, but Deep's words cut deep.
"Isn't it, doll?" he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension.
I snapped, my patience wearing thin. "My name is Mayura, I'm not your doll," I spat, my voice low and even. "And I'm Abhimaan's wife, Mrs. Abhimaan Shekhawat. Don't you dare diminish my relationship with him."
I jerked my arm free, my eyes blazing with fury. deep 's eyes were narrowed, but I didn't back down. I stood tall, my shoulders squared, my voice firm. "Don't you ever speak about Abhimaan and me like that again. You have no right."
With that, I turned and stormed off, leaving Deep standing there, his eyes seething with anger and resentment.