Chapter 3:
The sun had barely risen when Sita turned to me, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, and said in a hesitant but firm voice,
"Ved… I didn't bring my clothes with me. I'll need to go back home and pack my things."
I looked up from the coffee I was sipping and froze for a second. Her house. That meant her brothers. Her massive, terrifying, no-nonsense, muscle-flaunting cousins. The ones who nearly turned our wedding into a wrestling match.
"Wait. What?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "You want me to come with you? Back to that house? With them there?"
Sita gave a sheepish smile. "I won't go alone."
I blinked, trying to process what she was asking. "Have you lost it, Sita? Do I look like someone with a black belt in martial arts? I'm traumatized, okay? Your long, wide-shouldered, Hulk-version brothers don't just look scary — they genuinely make me fear for my life. And the way they treat girls— I still haven't recovered from the way they looked at us outside the church. No respect. No decency."
Sita stepped closer, her lips tugging into a sweet pout, and gently took my hand in hers. Her voice softened to a whisper, laced with mischief.
"Please, hubby…"
I raised a brow, pausing mid-glare. "What… did you just call me?"
She leaned in just a little, her eyes twinkling.
"Hubby," she said again, this time with a teasing grin.
I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile. "You're playing dirty now."
"I prefer the term romantic," she winked.
I sighed dramatically and folded my arms. "Fine. I'll go. But only on one condition."
Her eyes lit up with curiosity. "What condition?"
I pointed at her with playful mock sternness. "You kissed me once at the church, remember? You'll have to do it again. One more kiss. Just… one."
She stared at me, blinking twice, trying to hide the smile that threatened to take over her face.
Then, without warning —
THWAP!
A towel landed squarely on my face.
I peeled it off, flustered, just in time to hear her say,
"No kiss for you. In fact, don't come at all. I'll go myself."
She spun on her heel and turned toward the door like she actually meant it.
"Wait, what?! No, no, hey! Don't do that!" I dropped the towel and rushed after her, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind before she could take another step.
"Sitaaaa, don't get mad! I was joking!" I whined, my chin resting on her shoulder.
She paused for a moment, standing still in my hold.
Then, in that same dry, sassy tone she always used when she knew she had the upper hand, she muttered,
"So… now you're back in line, huh?"
I sighed again — not with frustration this time, but with something warmer. Something that had laughter in it.
"You're impossible," I said into her neck.
"And you're adorable when you're scared of my brothers," she chuckled.
We stood like that for a few moments — not saying anything, just breathing together in the middle of our living room, surrounded by the quiet hum of a beginning that neither of us had fully figured out.
But somehow… it felt right.
Like even with her dangerous brothers, even with towels in the face and kisses used as weapons — this odd, messy, unexpected thing between us… was starting to feel like home.
I picked up the bike key from the table and turned toward Sita with a playful grin.
"Alright, let's go," I said confidently, swinging the key around my finger.
She looked at me, blinking once, then raised an eyebrow.
"You… have a car, right?"
I hesitated just half a second too long.
Then I smiled wider. "Nope. Bike key."
Her mouth fell open slightly in disbelief. "Wait — you want us to go on a bike? With luggage?"
I gave her my most innocent expression. "Why not? The wind in our hair, the thrill of the open road…"
She crossed her arms. "And where, exactly, are we supposed to put my bags? On your head?"
I laughed, stepping closer. "Okay, valid point. So… what's the backup plan?"
She rolled her eyes, exasperated but clearly amused. "We book a cab. Or we take the car. You know, the car I know you have."
I stepped back a little dramatically and shook my head. "No can do. Cab's too expensive. And car? Yeah, slight problem with that too…"
She narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me you're broke, Ved."
I gasped, placing a hand over my heart. "Excuse me? That hurts. But also… yeah, kinda. Just for the next 24 hours."
She tilted her head at me. "You're lying."
I grinned, not confirming, not denying.
She sighed and muttered under her breath, "Unbelievable…"
Then she stepped closer, grabbed my face gently between her hands — and before I could react, planted a soft kiss right on my cheek.
It was quick. Gentle. But somehow… made my entire world tilt for a second.
And then she smirked, eyes gleaming, and whispered,
"Now will you take the car?"
I blinked like a malfunctioning robot. "Wait— what just happened?"
She gave a small shrug, turning away like it was no big deal. "Just had to push the right button."
I stared at her, completely disarmed. "I— I forgot to mention… these were actually the car keys."
She froze in her tracks and turned slowly.
"You what?"
I held up the key sheepishly, the metallic car brand logo reflecting in the light.
"You lied?" she said, eyes narrowing.
I raised both hands in surrender. "Only a tiny bit! I wanted us to go on a romantic bike ride! You know — dramatic scarf-flying, laughter in the wind, legs cramped from two people and a suitcase squished onto one seat!"
She walked up to me slowly, shaking her head, clearly trying not to laugh.
"You really are impossible," she said.
"And you," I replied, grinning, "kissed me just to get what you want."
She placed a finger on my chest, eyes full of mischief.
"You liked it."
"I loved it," I said honestly.
And just like that, our petty banter turned into something warmer. Something that lingered.
We walked toward the elevator, car keys finally in hand, shoulders brushing.
This wasn't about the car anymore. Or the bike. Or even the luggage.
It was about how easy it was becoming — this playful rhythm between us. The give and take. The teasing and the truth hidden underneath.
We were learning each other — slowly, unexpectedly, beautifully.
And I realized, as we stepped into the elevator together, that maybe falling in love wasn't always about grand gestures or perfect plans.
Maybe… it started in the smallest lies. In the softest kisses.
In a key you pretend is a bike's — just to see her smile.
We both settled into the car, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence as the city slowly passed us by through the windows. The road ahead was calm, lined with trees dancing in the breeze, but inside the car, the atmosphere shifted — just slightly. Like something unspoken was waiting between us.
Sita adjusted her seatbelt, took a deep breath, and then turned to me with a seriousness I hadn't seen since the wedding chaos.
"Ved," she said gently, "I've been thinking about something… something important."
I glanced at her, one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gear. "Hmm? What is it?"
"I want us to keep our marriage under a contract… for three years," she said.
My grip on the steering wheel tightened, just a little. I didn't react right away — not with words. I just let it settle.
She continued, her voice calm but honest, "You don't love me. Not really. And I… I'm in love with someone I haven't even met yet."
I blinked. That last part caught me off guard more than the contract.
"You what?" I asked, more curious than anything.
She chuckled under her breath, looking out the window. "I know it sounds strange. But I've loved this person from a distance for a long time. Letters, stories, photos maybe… I don't even know how to explain it. But I've always felt them… somewhere out there."
I tilted my head, a teasing smirk forming. "So basically, you're in love with an invisible crush?"
She laughed and leaned her head back against the seat. "You could say that."
"But," she added quickly, "until I find them — and until you find the person who makes you forget every heartbreak — let's just… have this deal between us. Three years. After that, we go our own ways. No pressure. No pain."
I stayed silent for a moment, letting her words settle into the air between us.
Then I gave her a sideways glance and asked, "Wait… how can you be so sure you're in love with someone you've never even seen?"
She turned to me, those warm eyes filled with a soft kind of certainty. "That's the thing about real love, Ved. You don't always need to see it to feel it. Sometimes… your soul just knows."
Her words echoed in the space between us. Deep. Unexpected. A little haunting.
I let out a playful sigh to lighten the mood. "Fine. As you say, Mrs. Contract Wife. But you better not fall for me in those three years. I can be quite charming when I want to be."
She burst out laughing, the kind that came from deep in the chest — free, unguarded, and so contagious that I couldn't help but laugh with her.
Then, with a playful nudge, she slapped my hand lightly and said, "Tum tum bike chalo!"
I faked a gasp. "Excuse me?! After offering you an air-conditioned ride with music and comfort, you want me to drive a bike now?"
She shrugged, grinning. "Maybe I just want to see you suffer a little."
I narrowed my eyes and said, "Noted. This will go into the contract terms. Clause number seven: No slapping the husband while driving."
We both laughed again, the kind of laughter that fills silence not because of awkwardness — but because something is growing. Something gentle. Something warm.
We kept driving, the road stretching out in front of us.
And even though she talked about a future without me… even though I knew this might be temporary…
Right now, in this car, with her smile, her laughter, and her strange invisible love story… I felt okay.
More than okay.
I felt like this journey, however long or short, was going to be worth remembering.
And who knows?
Maybe three years is all it takes to find what we're both looking for.
To be continue....