Janaat Viraj Singh POV

The door clicked shut behind Veer-ji, and suddenly all the air in the room seemed to vanish.  

My eyes dropped to my feet, on those furry rabbit slippers that he put on me himself, kneeling for me. I could still almost feel the weight of his hands on my ankles. It was so… unexpected. 

A giggle bubbled up inside me and escaped, too. 

I remembered his hands. Warm and big. Big enough to swallow my feet whole. I mean, his palm was practically the same size as my entire foot!  

And the touch, when his fingers had brushed against my skin, the whole world seemed to shrink. I feel the same when I click the picture zooming my camera. Everything else blurred just to focus on one thing, and here it was, his hand. 

In this moment, I feel every small thing slow down. The way he touched my feet… so gentle, so careful, so… controlled. It made me hold my breath.  

When a touch makes you that confused, whether you wanted to run or pause there, that was the same touch. 

My gaze wandered upwards for a moment, settling on his shoulders. His shoulders look like that has power to rearrange the world just for you. 

A man with that kind of power, that kind of build, touching me like a feather. 

There’s no rush in his actions as he is so sure of what he is doing. 

And his eyes. His eyes were gentle to me. They watch me with so much softness that they can read my thoughts and choose not to let me know. 

Gosh. Mar Jawa mein. (I'm dying!) 

Noo, naa!! Don’t think like that. You can’t. This is crazy. He’s just… a surprise husband. This is just a surprise marriage, nothing more, nothing less. 

I had to do something. Something to stop this… this feeling. 

Rule? 

Yes.

I have to make a rule. A very strict, very important, necessary rule. 

But what kind of rule can stop me from thinking… those kinds of thoughts? 

From noticing his shoulders? From remembering the feel of his hands on me. 

“YES.” I almost screamed with determination. 

“NOO LOOKING, NAA DROOLING.” I blurted out to the empty room. 

Then I capture the view of my room. The room is twice the size of my room, and my suitcase is placed in the corner with my backpack. The color was beige, white, and a mix of light shades. There is a white round couch in the corner. This is going to be my new favorite, but I’ll miss my balcony swing.

Balcony? There is a balcony too. So I opened that and saw a round couch almost the size of a single bed, and a side table was there. 

Why are both round? Interior matching, silly girl?

I didn’t wander much in the room because I’m a guest, not that I’m gonna live my life here. 

“Let's get comfy.” 

Firstly, I opened the almirahs that were in that room and placed the red dupatta there neatly. 

Then opened my suitcase, hung the dresses in the cabinet, and put suits and lingerie in the drawer. 

I know I’m just staying for four days, but I like my dresses hanging neatly; suitcases give me stress. 

All the makeup, skincare, and hair accessories are on the vanity. Then I picked up a cute nightsuit with a tank top and shorts and moved toward the washroom.

I opened the doorknob, and my eyes forgot to blink.  There, in a perfectly organized showroom of my usual products: bodywash, shampoo, hair conditioner, body scrub, body lotion, loofahs, and perfumes. 

My toes curled inside the slipper with nervousness. I took two tentative steps and narrowed my eyes to check the products. All the products were still sealed. Not a single bottle had been opened, which means they are for me. 

Who had arranged this? How did someone possibly know? And more importantly, why did it feel like a perfectly planned? This much can’t be a coincidence. How did he know all this?

Enter the court marriage: I did not imagine that married life would look like this. The most weird and quick wedding that somehow happened within 24 hours of meeting, and he was behaving like a man in love, providing everything that I used without even asking me. 

Was he stalking me? Perhaps. Or maybe. 

Was this a revenge plot? Shut up, Janu, who takes revenge after giving these products?

Maybe he wants to impress me with them. So I give him a point, I like this. 

Not wanting to waste any more time thinking, “one bottle at a time.” I washed my face, arms, and feet. There is no need to bathe twice in one day. This is the first time I’m seeing a man doing this much. 

It feels so… special. 

Sip, Stop.

Remember the rule, no looking, naa drooling. 

Keeping aside my thoughts, I start doing my skincare.

Firstly, Vitamin C serum, followed by a thick layer of moisturizer, and a lip mask on the lips. Then, before sleeping, I’ll put hand and foot cream as well. 

Our hands and feet also deserve to be taken care of like our face. Who will agree with me?

Then, plopping on the bed, I checked my phone and didn’t receive any message from Lily. It’s making me a little anxious because she lives with her father, and they don’t have a good relationship. He is a father just for name's sake. Who can use her life just because he wants a project? I can’t believe a man like him deserves to be the father of a girl like Lily. 

She is the daughter of my mom’s best friend. My Mom and her mom were both together in an orphanage in Russia. Then her mom left for a job and didn’t know how to end up marrying that man. 

Mean time, my Dad visited Russia, which was his first international trip. Where he met my mom, and both fell in love, within three days, both were married in church, and Mom came with Dad to India. Here, Mom started teaching Russian in the academy, and Dad was already a government teacher. 

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow for sure in college,” I whispered to my phone that was showing her phone number. 

I fall back on the bed, legs dangling from the bed, and my mind goes to his family. 

From the moment I stepped into this house, his family tried their best to make me comfortable. It’s the kind of warmth that doesn’t demand anything in return, only the simple joy of allowing you to belong. 

Veer-Ji is like my Dad. The way he put his hand on my head, that’s what Dad does.

Bhabhi is so pure like an angel. There are very few females who actually like me. Most of the time, I have to talk with fakeness because that’s how the influencer industry works. They are all good on faces, but behind my back, they don’t like me.

Also, bua ji words were kind. They are all so welcoming to me. Just Dada ji left. Hope he will also be nice to me, like the whole family. Surrounded by new people feels good, but I am already missing them. I’m sure the dad and son duo were enjoying themselves in Russia. 

Today is the day I lost mumma, and I was not alive enough to see her last rituals. 

Sometime question surrounded me–

Was it because of me? 

Why does it have to be her? 

Could it be me? 

But she saved me and…

I was lost in my head when a knock came from the outside of the door. “Janaat Baby,” I looked towards the voice, and there she was. Heer Bhabhi. She was already standing in my room and closing the door behind her.

“Ji Bhabhi,” I replied. For some reason, I feel comfortable with bhabhi. 

“Tum yahi, humare sath rahogi naa? Jase hum shadi ke baad Dr. Veer ke sath isi ghar mein rahte hai.” Bhabhi said in such a way that it was hard for me to control my laugh. 

(You will live here with us? Like after marriage, I, the doctor Veer, live here together.)

“Yes, Bhabhi, at least for four days for sure,” I said, holding Bhabhi’s hand.

“Arey, tumne blue dress change kr di?” Bhabhi said with a sad tone.

(Arey, you changed that blue dress?)

“Bhabhi, I can’t sleep in a dress, and this is so soft.” Placing her hand on the side of my waist so she can feel the fabric, “see, these are special cloths that are only made for sleeping.”  

“Acha, par humare paas toh ase nightsuit nhi hai.” She said, with a sad face. 

(Okay, but I don’t have these nightsuits)

“Koi baat nhi bhabhi, mein apke liye new night suits le aaugi. Ab udaas mat hoiye and smile for me.” I said, pulling her cheeks, she has round cheeks. 

(No worries, bhabhi, I’ll buy new night suits for you. Don’t be sad now.)

Bhabhi gave me an angelic smile, “par hum itne choti kapde nhi pahente. Or ye…” she was gesturing towards my shorts. “Ye nikar toh bilkul bhi nhi.”

(but I don’t wear this many short clothes)

(These shorts, never.)

I can’t control my laugh and start laughing loudly, “Bhabhi, these are called shorts, not nikar”. I was laughing so hard that my stomach started hurting and my breath became ragged. I hold my stomach with both hands and sit on the bed, still trying to stop myself from laughing. 

Bhabhi's face starts showing concern, “tumhare pet me dard ho raha hai baby, ruko hum Dr. Veer ko bula kar laty hai. Wo bhout famous doctor hai.” 

(Is your stomach hurting, baby? Wait, I’ll call Dr. Veer. He is a very famous doctor.)

I gestured towards the water bottle, and Bhabhi picked and extended it towards me. After gulping water, I calmed myself. “Bhabhi, you are so funny. No worries, Bhabhi, I’ll try to buy full clothes…not nikar.”

She gave me her big smile, and with this, I got a hug from her, and I needed that. Because I was again going in the past. 

“Good night, Janaat Baby, hum aapko baby bulayege. Abhi toh apne humare baby se bhi milna hai.” She left, leaving me in confusion. They had a baby, but Viraj didn’t tell me this. As if you asked him.

Silly. 

Now, even a call or any text from the father-son duo. Why should I call first? Let them, if they miss me, they will reach out. 

I sat on the round white couch that was placed in the corner of the room. “It’s comfortable like my swing,” and started scrolling social media just to kill time. 

Then I check my weekly schedule for my pending work that I still have to shoot and upload. Thank god, it’s just one brand video, I’ll shoot that in the morning. Then my head snapped with a sudden question. “Why are we both sleeping in different rooms. We are both married.”

Come on, girl, it’s not a normal marriage; it’s a surprise marriage. 

When he gives me a ring or a nuptial chain. 

I noticed earlier, bhabhi was wearing her nuptial chain. Why am I expecting anything from this marriage? 

I still had a little hope from our relationship? Not sure if this connection can be called a relationship. 

I shook my head in frustration at myself. This whole situation is overwhelming for my little head.

Stop my dear head, let me be at peace.

Even I don’t feel like combing, but I did because my straight hair is turning back to its actual form, curly.

I use a straightener in the morning, don’t use it often, but with that dress, it’s going perfectly. 

A knock on my door, Bhabhi? Again? Maybe she has some doubt on nikars? 

“Come in… bha…” I stopped my words because on the door, instead of Bhabhi, Viraj was standing. I hesitated for a moment, seeing him here.

“If you're done with freshening, then come to our room,” he said in a soft voice, eyes locking with mine with the same gentleness. 

Our room? 

“I thought this was my room.” My voice was barely above a whisper, and for me to hear, but he heard that too. 

He looked up with a brow furrowed in confusion, “You misunderstood, Hea…This is a room just for studying. You will sleep in our room.” 

My eyes studied him sharply. 

Is this any prank? Noo, naa!! I can’t sleep with him. 

Think, think. Maybe some excuse!!

“I’ll sleep with you, but tell me, do you snore. See, I can’t stand noise when I’m sleeping.” I blurted it out, and suddenly, a yawn escaped that I forgot to hide with my palm.

He just smirked. Smirked again!

“I don’t snore…and if I did, you can wake me up, or shut my mouth by kicking me.” 

My mind blanked for a moment. Was he serious? 

Before I could even formulate another weird question, he said, “Let’s go. If you need anything, then pick that up.” his words hit me like a bomb, and my lips actually parted in surprise.  

I didn’t expect anything. But deep down, a tiny voice whispered, "Liar, you earlier thought of sharing a room." 

I leaned back to pick up the lip gloss and hand cream that I had placed bedside. The phone was already in my hand.

He took two steps and held my hand. I swear to god my heart starts racing again. This brief exchange shifted something in me. His hands feel warm and comforting at the same time. 

He starts walking, holding me. 

Wait, I’m just wearing this night suit, nothing underneath. I already ruined my image after being drunk. 

He opened the room that was just beside my room, and I didn’t even notice the room's interior or anything. I pulled my hand away and just slid my slipper off. I got into bed and tucked myself in with a comforter from head to toe. 

Head: A tank top and shorts are not enough to sleep with a man.

Heart: He is not any other man, He is your husband. You married him yesterday.

I suddenly felt this wave of shyness wash over me. And I drifted off to sleep, don’t know when. 

.

.

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Veer Heer Singh POV:

Janaat is a kind, bright girl who brings a sense of joy. The age gap between her and my brother has been a topic of conversation. VJ has always been sharp, capable, thoughtful, and resilient. 

The night air carried a hint of coldness. I stepped out from the kitchen and moved toward our room. I don’t know why VJ removed all the carpets from the villa. Sometimes my brother behaves like a crazy man. 

Entering the room, I paused, realizing Heriye wasn’t there. A moment of concern stitched itself across my brow because she never goes into anyone's room at this time of night. 

I placed the food on the table and turned. I heard the soft thud of footsteps approaching from the lift side. And there she was, my Heriye, standing at the doorway with a broad smile curling at the corners of her lips, wider enough to brighten the room itself.

Before I asked, she started talking, “Aapko pta hai, ab se baby bhi humare sath hi rahegi. Hum abhi unse pouch ke aa rahe hai.”

(Do you know, from now on, Janu baby lives with us. I just confirmed with her.)

“Ooo toh ab Janaat bhi abki baby bn gayi hai?” My voice was dripping with tease.

(Ooo, so now Janaat has also become your baby)

“Haan, ab humari do baby hai, ek humari bebo and Janaat. Kyu koi or bhi baby hona chahiye humara.”

(Yes, now I have two babies, one is my bebo and the second is Janaat. Why should someone else be my baby too?)

I also want to include this baby's list, but how should I tell you this? 

I chuckle to myself at this thought. A 35-year-old still wants to be a baby for her wife. 

Holding her hand, I whispered, “mein…mein bhi toh baby hu aapka?” 

She pulled her hand away from my hands, “Nhi aap toh Dr. Veer hai, baby nhi.” I just nodded, “jasa aap kahe.” 

I gesture towards the table, “Come eat your food now.” Her eyes start sparkling after seeing the food on the plate, “kheer, or puri bhi. Aapko kase pta hume puri bhi khane ka man tha?”

(Kheer with puri. How do you know that I also want to eat puri?)

I smiled, feeling the sense of pride that I’m able to understand her enough to know what she wants. Here, our baby Bebo comes wiggling her tail and starts rubbing her head on Heer’s feet. 

Heer picked our little Bebo in arms, “aapko bhi kheer puri khani hai?” She took a little bite of puri, dipped that in kheer, and placed it on an empty bowl that was resting beside the bowl that had milk. 

She meowed as if happy with our food service. 

We both sat on the chairs and started eating. Heer’s cheeks tinted pink as she laughed with every bite, enjoying the meal that was just meant for her. I looked at Bebo, then Heriye, my two kids were savoring the food.

My perfect family. 

After eating dinner,  Heriye stood by the wardrobe, fidgeting with the edge of a cotton suit. I especially told VJ to buy some cotton suits for the night. “Heriye, you should change now, and don’t wear…” I began, but before I could finish, she halted me with a swift. 

Her cheeks flamed a bright, earnest red, like a tomato plucked from a sun-warmed garden. “Haan, haan, pta hai Dr. Veer, aapko bar-bar bolene ki koi jarurat nhi hai,” saying she entered the washroom. 

(Yes, yes, I know, Doctor Veer, you don’t have to talk about that again and again.)

I watched her a moment longer, and a quiet smile found its place in the corners of my mouth. My shy Heriye.

I told her not to wear a bra and any panties when she changed into the cotton suits that she wears for sleeping. 

After changing, she sits on the bed with a flustered face, and I know the reason behind it, but I choose to stay silent; I don’t want to tease her or make her uncomfortable. So silence is the only solution. 

You never know when your wife will get angry and stop talking to you. She already did that once, and I hated that. 

I run my fingers through her long, straight hair, tracing the familiar line from crown to tip as I part it into three neat, even sections. The braid loosens with a soft sigh. Now I’m a pro at braiding, but I tied loosely so blood circulation can easily flow, ensuring the strands don’t pull at the scalp or press too tightly against the nerves. 

Having long hair has a disadvantage; if you tie it too tightly, your head can be in pain. She turned toward me, catching my gaze for a heartbeat longer than comfortable, and then lowered her lids, a shy but genuine smile tugging at her lips.   

She lay on her side of the bed, but holding her waist, I moved her to the center of the bed, so her back could meet my chest. 

I cradle her head with one arm, cupping it as if protecting something precious, and she settles into the gentleness of my hold. There is nothing more peaceful than this, the slow, deliberate rhythm of our breathing,

Our Bebo, also sleeping in our room, in her bed, because Heer hate when she climbs on the bed because of her fur. 

Bebo also doesn’t climb on the bed when Heer is present, but when she leaves the room, then she jumps on our bed, and I remove all her fur from the bed. 

Yes, that’s me managing between my two bachee. 

To be continued…

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⬩➤ Let’s see how long Janaat sticks to this rule: no looking, naa drooling. 

⬩➤ Up next ~ Viraj POV on watching his Heaven in his room, in his bed. 

⬩➤ For those eager to read earlier, then go on scrollstack!! And Rowllr, you all can find two or more chapters ahead. ID is ~ autthorsahiba

⬩➤ For spoiler and extra stuff, you can follow me on Instagram. ID is ~ autthorsahiba_