Willing Wife

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Mahira Khan as Ridhima
Open for suggestions for the casting of other characters. Leave your suggestions in the comments. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••


It has been three weeks, since I went to Karan's office and asked him to give me my phone back , so that ,I can show him the video Prachi made, during the whole fiasco where Amar broke up with me and Gautam threatened my father , if I didn't marry Karan.

But my shock had no boundaries when, Karan refused to give me my cellphone back, because according to him I will show him a manipulated video and may have twisted his father's words in my favour.

Can this man get anymore thick-headed.

I have also started playing my role as an ideal Indian Bahu ( daughter-in-law), and have started supervising the household work, much to Karan and his parents' dismay.

"You asked for tea?"
I enter the dining room which has now been converted into Karan's office. A long story Ishika narrated to me.

Karan looks up from the file he was busy reading, and when he realises it is me who has brought the tea, he asked for, he schools his features in to a scowl.

"I asked the maid. You don't seem like a maid to me"

"I am your wife. You should have asked me."

Karan ignores me and then goes back to reading the file. He has made it a routine. He would go to the main office early in the morning during weekdays and will be holed up in this room during the weekends.
He has been avoiding me and I have been runing after him. Doing my wife duties.

It was funny how freaked out Karan looked ,when I first brought him his morning tea and he didn't notice me first, but then his gaze landed on me while he was sipping his tea and he had mistakenly taken a huge gulp of the hot tea, due to shock and has burned his tongue and throat.

Then for a week he had problem speaking, eating and drinking. Even then I had made him iced tea, cold coffee, lemonade and food which was less spicy so his throat would hurt less while swallowing.

As usual, I keep the tea, I made on his table and sit in front of him, waiting for him to drink it.

One thing I have learned about Karan is , he hates wasting food. He could throw the tea I prepared, away but he drinks it up, he never has left overs and hates taking second helpings no matter how delicious the food is.

The extra prepared food is given to the house help.

"You are not going to leave ?" Karan asks annoyed.

"No" I tell him "I will wait for you to finish, then I'll take the cup and saucer back with me to the kitchen. And during that time we can talk" I add, putting on an excited look.

He rolls his eyes and ignores me altogether.

I tell him about Ishika's obsession with fashion designing and sketching, then tell him about my favourite things. It is the same routine everyday. I don't even try to change the words. Everyday I tell how passionately Ishika loves designing, how much she likes sketching. Then I go about telling him about the things I like and dislike.

I am ignored. Completely.

His cell phone starts ringing and I am not surprised that it is the boring default ringtone, all the iPhone's come with.

"Karan Singhania." Even his receiving greeting is boring.

"Yeah.....for one......soon...." I get only part of the conversation and his monotonous replies give me no hint as to whom he is talking to.

"How early can it be booked?......yes, I have, but it is under repair......hmmm..... You know me, I don't do anything lesser......"
I just zone out of it, until the last part catches my attention. "Mail me the flight details.......when did you say, it was scheduled for?........yeah, told you....Tuesday? Fine. It'll work......text the details to me though.
Thanks. Bye"

I am sitting one the edge of my seat when he finishes his call " you are going somewhere?"

He ignores me.
But now I am not in the mood to be ignored, so I repeat my question. And maybe I got lucky, because he replies.
"Yes."

I guess not so lucky because, he doesn't elaborate further.

"Where?" I ask.

"None of your business." Karan replies.

"I am you wife, I have a right to know!" I retaliate.

I need to stop repeating I am his wife. It is getting old.




"Oh! Shut up with the wife drama. We both know you are pretending. And I have finished my tea you can take the cup and leave."

And he has indeed finished his tea and has dismissed me.

But I don't give up so easily and try a few more times to get the answer out of him but he refuses to budge and even acknowledge my presence anymore.

So I take the cup and leave the room.

After putting the cup and saucer in the dishwasher, I storm into Ishika's room, where she is busy sketching. She is sitting near the huge window and drawing in her sketch book. But looks up when I enter.

"What did he do now?" She asks. She has been witness to many of my breakdowns during the past few weeks and has been a shoulder I cried upon and encouraged me.

"He is going somewhere. Leaving. He just got the tickets booked, for the flight." I tell her.
I don't know why it is bothering me but I have a feeling that once he leaves he is not coming back.

"Oh, yeah, he told me last night. He is leaving for America."

And that reminds me, he told me, he is planning to leave this country in about a month. It was the day we first met or should I say the night we first met.

"Why didn't you tell me, about this?' I ask her, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I thought he'd tell you himself about it." She says, offhandedly and goes back to sketching.

"He didn't, and as much as I could pick up from his conversation with 'God-knows-who', I pretty sure he is planning to go alone."

"He won't do that." Ishika says, distractedly, too focussed in sketching.

"Oh, he definitely would. " there is no way Karan would take me along, especially when he hates my guts.

"Ahhuh..." And Ishika too ignores me altogether.

••••••••
When I enter my room, which Karan has graciously pointed out the first night, is his room, I am surprised to see Karan moving about in the room.
IN SWEAT PANTS AND A T-SHIRT!!

He is never in such comfortable clothes. He wears a button up shirt and suit pants to sleep.

I ignore him and go on to sit on my designated part of the room, the couch area. The couch has become my bed ever since I came into this house.

I have realised,during my short walk from Ishika's room to m- Karan's room, that Karan leaving is actually very beneficial for me. If Karan won't be here then I wouldn't have to live in this house. I will go back to my dad's house and stay there. And maybe talk to them. I have not had the chance to get all the facts cleared, after the day Gautam revealed the shocking truth to me.

But whatever a stranger might say, my mind can't actually register the idea of my father being a rapist and murderer. And they have been my family, still are. Loved me like one too. How can one doubt that?

"Are you deaf now?" Karan's not-so-sweet words beak me or of my contemplative thoughts.

"Huh?" I give him an incoherent reply, which was the first thing my disoriented mind could come up with.

And if he is not here, I can search for my cellphone, in his stuff too.

"I asked you, why are you so quite. Got tired of the wife act already?"

"You want me to talk? You want to listen to my voice? And you like it when I get all wifey-wifey on you" I ask him sweetly, although I know his answers would be a deep scowl and a rude no. But who cares he can't take that teasing smile off my lips.

"I don't want you to talk, smile, behave like my wife or breath" he says through gritted teeth.

I put on a hurt look and stand up to go closer to him, near the bed, on which an open suitcase is lying.
I see his harsh demeanour crumble for just a second but he is quick to compose himself and glare at me.

He says nothing after that.
To piss him off more I start helping him with the packing.
Doing things like bringing him his toothbrush, towel, safety pins, band aids, etc because I knew that if I picked clothes for him he'd replace them for a different set of clothes, but he can't really replace the basic things.

"If you are helping me pack, then when are you going to pack your clothes?" I freeze in my movement to keep his usual bottle of perfume in the bag.

"My clothes? Where am I going?" I ask him, cautiously. Now that I have decided I don't want to go with him, he is asking me questions like this.
I suppress the hysteria, building up within me, to scream at him and throw around furniture.
"You are coming with me? Why would you think I will leave you behind."

If I was a teenager, I would stomp my foot and then go on a mad rampage.

But I have to pretend to be sane, while I live with this insane man!

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Thank you for reading.

Also, if I can reach 200 votes by the end of this weekend, I promise you all a double update on Tuesday positively.

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