His Madness

30. A vow

The memories hit me making a smile appear on my lips. This place, the same place where I first laid my eyes on her. She was looking mesmerising, her smile, her laughter, everything is still fresh in my mind.

I started getting impatient, my body tensed up suddenly. I wanted to see her immediately, as I took a step towards the entrance, my steps halted as I looked up.

And then I saw her.

She walked out, her white coat making her look so… perfect. Too perfect. Her hair was tied back, a few strands falling loose, and her cheeks had a glow that made every man within a ten-foot radius stop and stare.

I noticed them immediately. Those damn gazes. Men watching her, some with open admiration, others trying to be subtle. My blood boiled. Do they not see the vermillion or the mangalsutra on her neck? Do they not realize she is MINE? I clenched my jaw, my blood simmering with jealousy. Yes, I was jealous.

And then there was her smile, a soft, effortless curve of her lips as she talked to someone beside her. A boy. He said something that made her smile.

My chest tightened.

She never smiles at me.

But the moment her eyes met mine, it all changed. Her smile vanished, like a switch had been flipped. That glow dimmed, and her steps slowed.

Why?

Why did she stop smiling? Was it because of me?

She walked to the car, her head held high, but I could see it..her hesitation, her discomfort. It stung more than I wanted to admit.

"Are you done for the day?" My words came out rudely, though I didn't intend to.

I don't know why I did so. The gazes on her had already raised my temper and now, her hesitation after seeing me added fuel to the fire.

I opened the door for her. She paused for just a moment, then slid into the passenger seat, her movements hesitant, like she was walking on eggshells. Not a word, not even a single glance in my direction.

The silence between us was suffocating, and the more she avoided my gaze, the angrier I felt. I couldn’t take it anymore.

Her silence was deafening, and it pissed me off. My grip on the steering wheel tightened as I glanced at her. She was staring straight ahead, hands clasped together like she couldn’t wait to be anywhere but here.

I could see the trembling of her fingers, the jingling sound of her bangles made it even more clear.

What? Now she was scared of me?

What did I do?

"What’s with the silence?" I asked, my voice low and calm.

She didn’t answer, but flinched slightly. I noticed the little movement.

I felt the anger rising, but underneath it, something else churned..a bitter, twisted mix of jealousy and possessiveness. She is my wife. No one else gets to have her attention. So why won’t she give it to me?

I slammed my hand against the steering wheel, the sound echoing in the tense space between us. Her shoulders stiffened, but she still didn’t look at me. That only made the fire in my chest burn hotter.

If she’s mine, why does she always look like she wants to run away?

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves down and tried again.

"Why are you so quiet?" I asked, my voice sharper than intended. I hated how it sounded, how I always end up sounding like the man she fears.

Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her dupatta, her lips pressing together before she whispered.