25

Manik

“Do you like the place?” I ask Nandini, looking at her from across the table.

The moment she said yes to going out with me, I had felt ecstatic. A little hope budding in my heart about the possibility of her giving our marriage a chance as time passes by.

I know I will need to work harder to gain her trust and hopefully her love too one day, but I feel she is worth it. She is worth trying for, worth waiting for.

Not only did she agree to come out for dinner with me, but she also wore the dress I bought for her. The dress she had loved when we had gone to the mall that one day.

I was waiting for her in the living room when she descended the stairs, the dress looking as if it was made for her.

The red color complementing her skin tone, the design accentuating her curves. And with elegant makeup she put on, I could only stare at her, my breath hitching as she ambled toward me with a slight smile on her face, looking like an angel.

She had frowned when I did not say anything for a while, clicking fingers in front of me to make me come out of my haze.

I had sighed then, lowly chuckling and shaking my head, unable to believe how, I, Manik Sisodiya, fell head over heels with Nandini Iyer, who is such a contrast to other girls I used to date.

May be it is because she is such a contrast that I fell for her.

“This is a beautiful place, Manik,” she replies, looking around the place.

I too look around, glad that I brought Nandini here. The ambience here is warm, the live music soothing, and people have been raving about the delicious food here in their reviews.

That is why I thought this place would be perfect for our first date.

I am not sure if Nandini thinks of it as a date, but for me it is. And I will make sure it goes smoothly, without any hitch, not letting any awkwardness seep between us.

“So, the ball is only five days away. I hear that your gown is ready now. All alterations done?” I ask.

Although I am itching to see how she looks in that gown, I want to wait until the ball.

Mom even asked me if I want to see the photo that she took while Nandini was wearing it but I refused, wanting to wait until that night.

I know it is somewhat silly, but I want to savor each moment seeing her in that beautiful gown custom made for her. I want to be with her that whole night, drinking her in, making new memories with her.

There is still no surety about what will become of us in the future. I do not know whether she will give our relationship one more chance or not.

But no matter the outcome, I will keep trying, making new memories with her, that will either serve as a beginning of our forever, or they will become the wistful memories to remember Nandini after she walks out of my life.

When I told Nandini I will respect whatever decision she will take, I meant it.

Some time back, I had come across a saying. It was something like—she was love which is why I let her go. If she was obsession, she would be in my arms.

I had huffed at the saying at that time, unable to understand why someone would let their love go.

But now, I have realize why I felt that way about it. It was because I had never loved anyone truly until then.

It is now that I have fallen for my wife, do I realize how true those words are. I love Nandini and I desperately hope she stays with me forever. But I won’t force her to be with me. It should be her decision, her free will, to either choose me or leave me.

Still, a man can hope, can’t he?

That is why I will keep hoping—until the very last second.

“Yes. The alterations are finished. And I also went to the boutique with Mom to finalize the jewelry I will wear with the dress,” Nandini says, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, which makes me frown.

“Do you not like the gown, Nandini? Or the jewelry? If that’s the matter, you can tell Mom about it. The designer is her friend but I am sure Mom won’t get offended if you—”

“No, Manik,” Nandini interrupts me, her voice hesitant. “The gown is beautiful and jewelry too is exquisite. But they are very expensive. I had reluctantly agreed to wear that gown because I had thought I would be able to pay for it when I leave. But the jewelry is too much. Do you think Mom will feel bad if I return it to her before I leave? Because I don’t think I will be able to afford it.”

A pang jolts my heart as I process her words.

She still is thinking of leaving.

‘You have time, Manik, to try and change her mind. Don’t let the desolateness get to you yet,’ I reassure myself, taking a deep breath before starting to speak.

“I am sure Mom will understand. In fact, she will also be proud of your way of thinking.” I smile at her. “I know I am.”

She smiles back at me, about to say something, when the waiter interrupts us.

“Umm, please give us some time to decide,” I tell him and he leaves after nodding at me.

“What would you like to have, Nandini?” I ask, and she looks at the menu, her eyes widening as she continues peering at it.

When she keeps looking at the menu and does not reply to me, I gently tap on her hand. “What happened, Nandini? Do you not like anything on the menu?”

“Oh, umm, no. There are a couple of dishes that I like,” she replies.

“Tell me then. What are the dishes that you like and I will order them for you,” I tell her.

Although her reticent demeanor makes me frown, I patiently wait for her to reply.

A few seconds later though, I narrow my eyes as I watch her look around before leaning toward me. She gestures me to do the same too and I lean in, wondering what’s the matter.

“The dishes are too expensive, Manik. I can make the same at home at less than half of the prices they have quoted here,” she whispers, again looking around, making sure no one has heard her. “Are the dishes always so expensive in these type of resturants?”

I look at her curious face, her big, beautiful eyes wandering around before landing on me, and I feel my heart getting engulfed in a rush of emotions I feel at that moment for this girl.

“Have you never been to this type of place before?” I ask, gulping when she bites her lower lip before shaking her head.

“Maa and Papa used to go out with Vivek one night a week to have dinner, but they never took me with them. They used to bring food parcel for me though,” she tells me, and I feel the emotions knotting my heart tightly as I see a sheen of tears gather in her eyes.

“You must have felt bad then. Didn’t you say anything to them? Didn’t you throw tantrums, demanding to take you with them?”

She blinks her eyes rapidly, preventing the tears to slide down her face.

“I never thought about demanding anything from them.” Her lips curve into a sad smile. “Maa and Papa used to taunt me, saying such things, that it would always make me feel I am such a burden to them.

“That is why, instead of throwing tantrums at them for not taking me out, I used to be grateful that they at least brought a parcel for me even though I am such a nuisance to them. I used to thank them for not keeping me hungry while I ate the food alone in my room.”

My heart clenches painfully as I hear her, and unable to stop myself, I hold her hands, both our faces still leaning toward each other over the table in between us.

“Vivek used to fight with them, saying he too won’t go if they do not take me,” she continues. “When we were younger, they used to pacify him and somehow convince him to go out with them. But as time passed by, Vivek became reluctant in going out and eventually that tradition stopped.

“My parents were so stubborn that they stopped to do that altogether rather than take me with them.”

“Let’s make this our tradition then,” I say, noticing her frown at my words. “I mean, let us go out for dinner at least once in a week. Would that be ok?”

She looks at me for a couple of seconds, her face thoughtful. “Will we continue the tratdition if we decide to get separated from each other?”

“We will,” I reply, squeezing her hands gently. “We will continue as long as you will want to.”

Mature and sensitive content ahead. Reader's discretion is advised.

***********

Third Person's POV

"The ball is tomorrow night," he says, trailing his fingers over her bare breast, admiring the red marks his belt left on her skin. "Everything must go according to my plan. Do you understand?"

She hisses in pain as he presses on the welts he created on her flesh, tears streaming down her face.

She frantically nods, unable to speak through the gag he placed in her mouth earlier.

"Just nodding won't do. Speak up, slut." He clutches her throat, cutting her breath for a few seconds before releasing his hold.

"I um..be..ann...., pweasse," she tries her best to enunciate, speaking through the gag, too scared of the man in front of her.

"Good. Very good." He pats her cheeks repeatedly, lightly slapping her. "Now go and fix yourself. You look like a messy whore right now. And don't forget to prepare a nice meal for me before you leave."

She hurriedly climbs down from the bed when he takes out the gag from her mouth and unties her hand from the bedpost.

She is about to leave the room to go to the small prison-like room he has assigned to her in his mansion when he stops her.

"Are you being ungrateful, slut?" He asks, and she freezes at the door, understanding why he asked that question.

She was so eager to leave from his presence that she completely forgot about it.

"Ss...orr..yy, Sir." She sobs, desperately hoping he won't punish her. She won't be able to take it after what he did with her just an hour back.

"You were a good whore to me today. So, I will be generous and let you leave now. But mind you. You will be punished for this the next time I use you. Understood?" He asks, and she nods.

"Understood, Sir."

"Say it and leave the room. You know how much I hate it when my fucktoys tend to linger around, don't you?" He says, his voice seemingly agitated, which makes a shiver run through me.

"Th...ank...Thank you for usin...gg mm..ee, Sir. I am honored you ch..chose me to ser..vee you," she stutters in fear, and he waves his hand, signaling her to get dismissed.

Once she is gone, he gets down from the bed and walks to the bookshelf in one corner of his room.

Pressing on the five buttons out of nine present on the wall, hidden by three books on the shelf, he waits for the hidden door on the wall to open and enters the adjacent room once it does.

As he enters, he is welcomed by the numerous pictures of the girl who has been ruling his mind since the last time he got to lay his hands on her body.

"Nandini," he whispers, caressing one of the huge photo frames that encased her beautiful face and body.

"I can't wait to run my hands on your real luscious curves instead of this picture."

Trailing his hand down her picture, he recalls how her body had felt under his fingers when she squirmed in fear while he touched her.

He had first seen her when he and his parents were invited to her house on the occasion of a farewell party for her brother as he was about to leave for the USA to do his MBA.

Smitten by her appearance, he had gone to talk to her.

He had been observing her for most of the night before going to speak with her and had seen her standing quietly at a corner, not interacting much with anyone, not even speaking unless spoken to.

Finding that to be weird, when he asked her about it, she had told her she was upset because her brother was leaving after a week.

That had seemed plausible to him then, so he did not ask her further questions about it. He had then tried to interact with her for the rest of the night, feeling weird when she only replied in monosyllable answers.

But later, when he returned home and asked his parents about her, he found out what her status was in her house.

Nandini was the daughter her parents never wanted.

Since his parents were best friends with her parents, they knew in detail how much her parents disliked her and how much they wished she would not have come into their lives.

At that moment, a plan hatched in his mind. A plan to covet her as his own. But he did not want to go about it the traditional way of marriage because that is simply not his style.

Making a girl his wife means giving her a status, which he does not like.

He wants his playthings to be just that-a thing to play with for a while and discard them later.

And that is what he intended to do with Nandini too. But she was exquisite. So, he decided to be patient and plan carefully before finally conquering her.

That is why, for one year, he went with his parents for the weekly dinner at her house. He slowly built a good-boy image in front of her parents. He even went as far as to invite Vivek to his club for meetups whenever he returned to country during his vacation that year.

He also tried talking with Nandini, but she always seemed closed off. She never spoke during those dinners too. But that was because her parents did not let her sit at the dining table.

Whenever Vivek was not around, Nandini was not allowed to interact with any guests who came to their house. Her parents also used to tell her to eat dinner alone in the kitchen.

And she would demurely obey.

That made her more appealing to his eyes. Because that was the exact quality he looked for in his playthings-complete obedience and timidness.

A year later, when she turned twenty, he went to her house in the pretense of giving her a gift.

When her parents inquired how we found out about her birthday, as they never celebrated it, he told them Vivek had mentioned it to him.

That was a lie, of course. Because Vivek never talked with him about Nandini. And he never asked too--not wanting to raise even minor suspicion about his interest in her.

Instead of asking about her, he had hired an investigator to do a full inquiry on her. That is how he knew everything about her, from her birthdate to her likes, dislikes, friends, favorites-everything.

That day, when he asked her parents if he could go to her room and give her the gift, they seemed hesitant at first, telling him they didn't want to spoil her by letting her have the birthday gifts.

But they relented when he insisted.

And that was the day when he first touched her. Behind the locked door of her room, in her house, where both her parents were present.

It went on until that fateful night when she, out of nowhere, gathered the courage to record evidence against him, and not only that, she even showed that evidence to her brother.

That was the last night he saw her before he had to go away and lay low for a while after what happened to Vivek. Or rather, after what he did to Vivek.

"But now I am back, Nandini. Rishabh Chopra is back for you, and he will have you soon. By hook or by crook." Rishabh smirks, caressing her photo frame for a few more seconds before picking a paperweight from the side table and throwing it right at the frame, shattering it into pieces.