The Secret Fiancée: Chapter 33
My heart is pounding as I storm into the house, having cancelled all my meetings, only to find Raya sat on the sofa with countless blankets around her and a tub of ice-cream in her lap, a Bollywood movie playing in the background. She looks up at me with tears in her eyes, and I walk up to her, my arms wrapping around her.
“What happened, little fairy?” I ask, my heart clenching. I came rushing home the second Pippy notified me that Raya skipped her classes and was crying on our sofa, but she couldn’t tell me what caused it. Raya doesn’t seem to have done anything out of the ordinary today, and there isn’t anything in the papers that could’ve upset her either. Is she upset I haven’t been able to see her in a couple of days now? I’ve been working late, and a few of my meetings had me catching flights back and forth, leaving me with very little time to even sleep.
My wife chokes back a sob and points at the television. “She knew,” she says, fresh tears falling from her eyes. “She knew her son was close by the second he set foot in that mall.”
I frown and rub her arms, at a complete loss. “O-Okay,” I murmur, nodding. “In the movie, you mean?”
She nods and begins to cry harder. I stare at the movie, unsure what to do. Should I get it banned if it makes her cry? She points at the television again and sniffs. “Also, you ruined my chances to marry Hrithik Roshan,” she says, glaring at me as she pulls her knees up and stares at the screen stubbornly. “He would’ve learned a tongue twister for me, you know? You just don’t understand.”
Who the fuck is Hrithik Roshan? I wrap my arm around Raya’s shoulders as I slyly try to google the name, only to find out he’s a popular actor, but I can’t find anything about the tongue twister she’s talking about. I bite down on my lip as I shoot Leia a quick text.
LEX:
I think my wife wants to leave me for Hrithik Roshan over a tongue twister that he knows? Do I need to be worried about this guy?
LEIA:
LOL. No. He’s married, and you’re richer, younger, and better looking. Don’t worry about it. If you want to make your wife smile though, learn to say the tongue twister I’m about to text you.
Leia sends me a sentence that looks like complete gibberish, and I raise a brow, glancing back at my wife. She’s still every bit as upset as when I first walked in, and I’m not any closer to understanding why. “So, it’s just the movie that made you cry?” I ask gently.
She looks back at me, and instantly tears begin to fill her eyes again. “Yes,” she says, choking back a sob.
I instantly pull her into my arms. “I see, darling,” I murmur, confused. I glance over the living room, taking in the assortment of snacks spread over the coffee table. “Did you, um, did you eat a real meal today?”
She shakes her head, and I lean in to press a kiss to her temple. “Let me see what we have, okay? I’ll be right back.”
She nods, her gaze appreciative as I rise from my seat and pull my tie loose. I walk into the kitchen, thinking back to that time my brothers sat me down and explained how they keep their wives happy. Maybe one of Raya’s favorite foods will cheer her up?
Raya is never upset like this, and it throws me entirely off. It worries me more than I imagined it would, and unease runs down my spine. I’m starting to have feelings for her that I swore off, and I can’t fight them. Seeing her crying is tearing me apart, and I don’t know how to the implication of that.
I hesitate for a split second before calling my mother-in-law. My in-laws and I have gotten closer as Raya and I spend our weekends tinkering with tools in their home and helping around the house, but I’m still not fully comfortable calling either of them.
“Lex?” she says.
“Hi, um, Mom,” I say hesitantly, still not completely used to calling her that, despite her continuous reminders. “I was just calling to see if you could tell me how to make your lamb biryani?” I ask as I instruct Lola to grab me some rice.
My mother-in-law laughs. “Oh, sweetie. It takes hours to make biryani. Why would you want to make that all of a sudden?”
I hesitate before explaining Raya’s sudden strange somber mood, and she laughs again. “I see. It’s the last week of the month, isn’t it? She probably just got her period.” I frown and shake my head. While that might be true, she’s never been like that while on her period. “If she’s been under a lot of pressure at school or otherwise lately, her hormones become more imbalanced than usual, and she becomes very sad,” she adds. “Some months she’s perfectly fine, but every once in a while, she just gets very emotional. It isn’t biryani she wants, Lex. Buy her a salted caramel and chocolate milkshake from her favorite chain. It’ll cheer her up instantly.”
“Really?” I ask, not sure I believe her. “She’s been crying.”
My mother-in-law doesn’t seem fazed at all. “I promise you; it’ll work. Don’t worry, all right?”
I nod to myself as I thank her and end the call, before turning back toward the living room nervously. I’ve never seen Raya cry before, and it fucking breaks my heart. Not knowing how to fix it and not being able to find a concrete cause to eliminate is making me feel beyond helpless.
“Little fairy,” I murmur. “I’m thinking of going for a drive. Would you like to come with me?”
She looks up at me, peeking over her mountain of blankets, and then she shakes her head. She’s never said no to going for a drive, it’s one of our favorite things to do together.
“Are you sure?” I ask. “I was thinking of grabbing a milkshake.”
“Oh, a milkshake?” she says, her eyes lighting up. “Maybe I’ll come.”
“Yeah?” I ask, grinning. “You don’t have to. I can just go buy you one and bring it back for you?”
She shakes her head as she rises from the sofa, the blankets falling away to reveal a sexy black nightgown. My gaze roams over her body hungrily, and I bite down on my lip to keep myself in check. “No, I’ll come. I’ve been wanting to try out something I asked Raven to find for me anyway,” she says, her eyes glimmering with a hint of viciousness. “Since the tabloids love trying to capture photos of you and your supposed supermodel partner, I’m going to send them on a wild goose chase.”
I nod in confusion and watch her disappear into our bedroom, only for her to emerge wearing black jeans with a black tee, and a long maroon wig. “Fuck,” I groan, my pulse spiking at the sight of her. She looks so fucking hot, and she must know it, because the edges of her mouth turn up just a little as she turns in a circle, giving me a good look at her.
“Let’s go,” she says, grabbing my hand, her mood a little lighter than before. If the mere mention of a milkshake can cheer her up that much, maybe actually drinking one will make her smile.
I hold on to her tightly as I lead her to my favorite supercar, my customized Diana, and Raya looks at me appreciatively as I buckle her in and turn the seat heaters on for her. This isn’t the first time she’s had her period throughout our marriage, so I know a little bit of what she likes, including how much she loves seat heaters during that time, but I’m a little annoyed I didn’t know about the milkshakes. Some days it feels like I’ve gotten to know her really well, and other days it feels like there’s still so much distance between us.
My wife sits up as we go through the drive-thru, her eyes glittering. She looks up at me wide-eyed when I hand her the milkshake I ordered for her, acting like I handed her the world. Raya has access to my vast fortune, but she doesn’t want the countless things I could’ve bought her. She just wants this milkshake.
“Oh God,” she moans as she takes a sip, her whole face lighting up as she smiles from ear to ear, sighing happily as she pulls the cup away from her lips. “So good. I just wish they were dairy free, and it’d be perfect.” I nod and stare at her, fucking mesmerized. She’s so fucking beautiful, and the way she smiles. Goddamn.
I sigh as I reach for my phone and order my assistant to get a proposal prepared so I can acquire this milkshake chain for my wife. If it makes her this happy, I have to make sure she has easy access whenever she wants. I’ll have one of these machines installed in our house.
I raise a brow as I take another look at my recent texts, my stomach twisting with nerves as I look back at my wife. “Hey, Raya?” I murmur nervously, hoping I don’t mess this up. “Chandu ke chacha ne chandu ki chachi ko chandni chowk mein chandi ke chamach se chatni chatayi.”
She stares at me wide-eyed, and then she wraps her hand around the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss, the taste of chocolate still on her lips. I groan as I kiss her back, loving the way she’s touching me. “You’re better,” she whispers against my lips, before kissing me again. “Better than Hrithik Roshan.”