Five More Minutes

Sneak Peak

Five Weeks.

Thirty five Days.

Eight forty hours.

Fifty thousand four hundred minutes.

Thirty lakh twenty four thousand seconds of endurance, and then she would be free to fly freely in the vast sky like a bird.

‘Remember! This marriage is out of convenience. So you’ve to stay strong.’ Anahita told herself, unscrewing the lock of her earrings and dropping them on the vanity table beside the pool of her bangles. Scoffing, she rolled her eyes, murmuring. “Who wants to be with him anyway? I will just focus on fending off these days in peace.”

With a soft creak, the bedroom door opened slowly and she raised her thick lashes to the mirror again. Her lips—full, luscious and painted red—stretched to the dip of her cheeks in a faux smile.

How couldn’t she feel his presence? The scorching warmth which filled the void of the room—how could she miss it?

She saw a pair of warm eyes—sparkling pools of liquid silver as she preferred to view his gray orbs—scanned the room, disregarding her presence. She knew he was intentionally avoiding looking at her. That jerk! Well, she wasn’t dying to catch his eyes.

Even so, when his wandering vision dropped on the mirror and his eyes glinted in delight, she couldn’t help pushing down the hard lump in her throat.

‘Don’t forget. A few days of pretense, and you’ll be out of this mess.’ She emboldened her shaking will. Widening her suspended grin, she embraced his gaze and worked on taking out the heavy necklace from her slender neck.

Yuvraaj walked over to her purposefully, his brooding gaze was unreadable. Even though scared that he might see through her facade, she put on a brave front and controlled her racing heart when he stood right behind her.

‘When in Rome, do as Romans do,’ Her sensible mind advised.

*

No person could be so distraught and long-faced as Anahita on a romantic date. And, definitely, no one could be so afraid to not even initiate a conversation. A lavish dinner at a seven star hotel, soft music and romantic ambiance to cheer up his sulking girlfriend made a hole in Mukund’s cheap wallet.

However, all of it was a total waste. The girlfriend was still sad. Italian food, classic wine, and her favorite dessert sat on the table untouched. Chewing lazily on a spring of cucumber, Anahita tapped her feet under her chair, crossing them at ankles. In the cup of her hands, her ample chin rested.

“Okay, you got to tell me what is wrong with you?" Mukund asked, finally fed up with the silence. She darted a glance at him and sighed, dropping her gaze back on her plate. “I was thinking something.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“Nothing.” She droned, spitting the chewed peel in the air. “You tell me. What did you want to talk about?”

Mukund pointed at her plate. “You’ve barely eaten anything.”

She leaned back, straightening up her closed posture and gently pushing the plate away from her, “I don’t feel like eating. You continue with your phone. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” She jutted her chin to his phone.

Comprehending her silent complaint, Mukund closed his mails and placed the phone on the checkered tablecloth,

“No, my work is done. Tell me now, what’s bothering you?” He asked, and as if she had been waiting for it, Anahita jumped at him.