I will put my WARNING here and say once again to whomever is reading; this piece of fiction (Part Four in its entirety) contains very very adult language including sexually explicit words and situations as well as profanity in keeping within the context of this work. Please do NOT read from here on if you do not want to read this kind of material, it is for adults only and for those who don't mind adult content.
I as usual have no clue of this will get me temporarily banned, but if it does, please just PM me and I will email you the FF directly 😉
Enjoy and of course as always, feedback is always welcome 😊
PART FOUR - B - Please read Part Four - A - before continuing on
"Shivam... how can you talk so rudely to your dadi like this? What has got into you?... You!..." his mother turned to Riya so swiftly that it made him dizzy to watch her, "You were outside yesterday! What were you doing? Have you been doing evil magic on my son? Tell me the truth! My boy never speaks like this! I am sick of you being in this house, you horrible girl! Everytime I find you, you are upto no good! Can't you just leave us alone? What do y-" It was then that his patience severed so violently that he actually raised his voice at his mother, her brutal words at the woman he worshipped surely hurting him more than the object of her hate. "Ma! Stop, please!" Her round face contorted into shock before the impending tears threatened to make themselves known. He hadn't been able to help it, only seeing Riya's face crumble and fall further into pain as his mother hurled one savage word after the other at her. He frowned at her in disbelief, unable to process that his mother could even think to speak this way, "She wasn't casting a spell on me for godsakes. Why would you even think that? She doesn't even know how to fry chillies properly never mind cast a spell..." he shook his head, unable to comprehend that his mother had so lost the plot that she was now jumping to completely unfounded conclusions. He had spent hours watching Riya learn to cook with his mother, burning one dish after the other even as his heart had warmed at her efforts. He hadn't minded that she didn't know how to cook and be the perfect housewife; as long as she could feed their children one day and as long as she remained her effervescent self he didn't care, he loved her no matter what. Honing her housework and cooking skills to nothing less than perfection had been upon his mother's and dadi's insistence. Even her first cooked meal had made his eyes water as one bitter dish was replaced by too salty and then not spicy enough... and yet he had eaten every bite knowing how hard she had worked on each dish as his mother had scolded her and praised her in varying measures, their voices floating out of the kitchen for hours on end. The terrified look on her face whilst she had waited for him to taste her cooking for the first time had made him want to pull her onto his lap infront of the whole damned family and kiss her, thank her for loving him so much that she tried something new and different for him. But of course his mother had flapped about the table, embarrassed that she was serving food substandard to her own even if Riya had put all her heart into it. Even if his tastebuds had struggled with her food, his heart had beat deep and fast for the first time as he sat to dinner; the way she had chewed her lip in nervousness had both unwound and coiled his insides simultaneously and he had wanted her, on his lips, in his arms and safely snuggled in his embrace. He hated that his mother had made her feel unworthy and small for not having learnt to cook... but what she had lacked in housework skills she more than made up for in her career and her education and sharp mind. He was proud of her; it was a big part of why he had fallen in love with her and he never wanted it to change. In fact, it was a part of her personality that he had hoped his own sisters would be inspired to explore for themselves, to open doors that would give them confidence and independence and yet they had only learned to hate her instead of learn from her. To this day his beautiful wife hadn't got the hang of frying chillies before they burnt to a smoky and acrid crisp; he had said it without even a hint of bitterness in his heart, having always hated whole chillies anyway.
He couldn't fathom how his mother could jump to such a ridiculous conclusion; Riya was the last person who would believe such rubbish and he was right by her side on that. He heard her soft and hurt voice then, the desperation to explain herself evident as it made him feel useless and small. She doesn't need to damn well explain herself, my mother has finally gone mad! "Mummyji... I promise you... I-I would n-never do such a thing. Ever. I love him, Mummyji" he swivelled his hips to Riya as she now stood up, the one tear having made its way down her cheek as her face paled at the ridiculous accusation; his heart beat out another ache as he absorbed her stammering words as she uselessly tried to defend herself, "I was only praying Mummji... I promise you, that's all I was doing. Shivam has been looking so tired and I was o-only praying that the Goddess give him some peace of mind..." Riya shook her head at whatever she saw on his mother's face even as he held his breath at her words of love. He had noticed that Riya had been more than capable of speaking back to dadi, but for some reason she didn't treat his mother with the same language; he both loved her for respecting his mother despite her increasing cruelty just as much as he had started to loathe his mother's behaviour towards her. When he looked back to his mother, her face was flooded with tears no doubt at her son's scolding as well as what she believed to be Riya's lie. "No! You are the reason why my son has no peace. You are! I'm warning you Riya, you might be living in this house but don't you dare pray for my son after what you did to this family and my daughters. After lying to us and pretending that you care. Stop pretending! And keep away from my son, don't even think of him. Do you understand? I've had enough of your games and your lies. You brought the police here and you might have forced yourself here to do god knows what... but don't you come near my son or even think of him! Just leave him alone!" Khushia had almost screamed the last few words out before she turned to Shivam, her anger like rippling water over her face, "And you beta... you're raising your voice at me? You have n-never r-raised your voice at me" her voice trembled and shuddered as she uttered the words, her words eliciting his guilt as she had no doubt intended even as he hated himself for succumbing to it. His mother had been unjustly nasty and vicious to Riya and he couldn't look past it, not this time. She was practically wailing as though someone had died whilst Riya stood silently and heartbroken behind him before he felt her presence by his side. He had tried to keep his voice as level as was humanly possible, "Ma! What is wrong with you? Riya hasn't done anything. I already told you I don't want her back...we... we have another five months and then she will leave. Why are you behaving like this? Are you going to stop her from praying too now? Let her do what she wants, she isn't getting in anyone's way... and she wouldn't curse me ma. I know that much at least..." he trailed off as his mother's shocked and wide open eyes stared up at him in accusation. She obviously couldn't believe that he was defending her even though he had just said that he didn't want her back, even though he knew those few words would punch his wife in the chest; but there was no way that he could let this slide, it was bordering on the barbaric and was most certainly preposterous. "So you're siding with her over me, again? You're going to defend this woman who destroyed this family, huh? And what is so wrong with Chanda? Huh? She cooks and cleans and behaves better in one week than Riya did even after a year of living under this roof!... Do you know something beta... Ammaji was right, I never expected this from you, but you really are a man trailing behind your wife... did you learn nothing from your papaji?" He was sure he could identify the disgust in her eyes as she shook her head vigorously at him, the look on her face so alien and strange to him that for a moment he wondered if this was the same mother who had brought him up, whom he had grown up loving. Even she had started resorting to insulting him and calling him a kept man; didn't they see that he had basically shunned the woman he loved? Did his signing the f**king divorce papers not make it clear enough to them? Now they wanted him to be as vicious and evil as they were acting? No, it wouldn't happen and he wouldn't let this happen either. "Ma... I'm not siding with anyone. But you cant just blindly accuse her of doing black magic and cursing me" even as he said the words he felt ridiculous, not even believing in it to begin with, "She was just praying, Ma. I have signed the divorce papers, she is sleeping on the floor while I sleep in a bed, I barely acknowledge her..." he grit his teeth in his own hatred for himself, "what more do you want? How can you say that to me when I have done what you all wanted? Huh? Tell me... you all got what you wanted... in five months she will be gone forever and out of my life and still you want to tear her apart? I might not love her anymore Ma, but I wont be so cruel as to blame her unjustly... and you can't compare Riya to Chanda. Riya has spent her life educating herself, making sure she would get a good job and work for a living. She didn't have time to learn to cook and clean like a housewife when she was working all hours of the day" his other words had sliced painfully through his gut and his heart like a blunt knife, hacking away at his insides as he knew she felt it too. He didn't mean any of it; he loved her, he ached to tell her how much he adored her... and just the thought of her out of his life chilled him to the pit of his damned soul. And yet he uttered the words, knowing she needed to hear them, to believe that there was no hope for them. He might have been hanging on to keeping her near him for the next five months but when the time would come he would set her free, like the prettiest bird in the open skies again. He wanted to sit and cry, he wanted to roar and bellow out the thick sludge of pain and hate and anger and unending sadness at the loss of her, he wanted to damn well hit something until his knuckles cracked... except he kept his face level and emotionless, he spoke like a man unaffected even as he sensed her heart breaking silently in her chest whilst she stood only feet away from him. And yet still, inexplicably, she would not go... she wouldn't leave him. She had been ready to go that day, when he had found her on the balcony, he knew she had by the heart wrenching tears that had left her beautiful lips. Was it the kiss that gave her hope? Was she holding onto the memory of his holding her and touching her and praying for some miracle? If she was she would be even more heart broken and hurt... and yet again he would be the one to cause it. He realised with a deadness inside of him that he was damned if he did and damned if he didn't. "And this is the kind of wife you want? A woman who only knows how to work and ride about on her scooter? A woman who cant cook for you and look after your house? When I was her age I didn't need to be told how to cut vegetables and wash clothes! I didn't have time to deceive my elders!" After years upon years of being told how to sit and eat and walk and talk he felt another buckle finally snap over his barely held restraint, "So you want me to marry a carbon copy version of you Ma? Is that it? When you were her age you already had me. You had been married ten years whilst dadi taught you everything... you didn't just get married and magically knew how to do everything. You are the one who has told us that as we grew up, how dadi looked after you... And if Riya lied to you, she apologised for it. You cant hold her fully accountable for what happened to Preeti anymore, Ma. My sisters have to take responsibility for their part in it, they're not children anymore. No one forced Preeti to run out on her own wedding. She's a grown woman, she didn't need to be told this" he sliced his hand through the air as he stressed his point, "No one forced Nimmi to sit in that mandap and keep completing ritual after ritual until she ended up married to Vyom... Riya had lied and covered up their mistakes in some misguided attempt to protect them. She didn't do it for herself! She apologised for her part in it... but has Preeti apologised? Has Nimmi? I can't keep my mouth shut knowing they are just as much to blame for what happened if not more. I'm not supporting Riya... but I wont support my sisters' actions either" he had sneered out his earlier words about dadi "looking after" his mother, unable to hide his sarcasm as his mother's face actually started to shake in her shock at her son's newfound voice. "I love Papaji, Ma. But I'm not him. I never wanted a wife to clean up after me and cook for me while she waited hand and foot on me. I've watched you do that your entire life for this family and I would never put my wife through that... I have my own dreams. Goals. There are things I want to do with my life other than keeping a wife under my thumb" his heart hammered like echoing drums in his chest as his outburst started to deflate in his realisation of where he was and infront of whom he was speaking in such a manner. His mother scoffed out loud then, the look unbecoming on her face as the tears continued to pour incessantly, "Vaah beta... now I know how you really feel. I disgust you that much?" she sobbed her heart out infront of him pulling out a strange mixture of guilt and resentment for her in his heart, "If you can support her this much then why did you sign the divorce papers?! Huh? Why, tell me why?!" her trembling voice turned shrill and harsh as she let the question hang in the air, all eyes focussed on them. His chest twisted as he shouted out the words, "Because she never fit in with this family! Because I never should have married her in the first place!... Is that what you wanted to hear? She doesn't belong with people like us" he felt his eyes flood with his heinous words as soon as he had bellowed them out, the barbs they were laced with surely stripping at Riyas heart as he blinked back his own tears before they fell out of his eyes. If she had had any doubt that he loved her before then he was sure he had annihilated it; any moment now she would walk away and leave him broken and empty like a vacuous shell of a man who didn't deserve anyone's love, let alone hers. "No... you shouldn't have married her. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. She can never belong with people like us beta... you should be with a girl like Chanda, one day you will understand why cooking and cleaning are so important. You might think it is stupid and pointless, you might even laugh at me... but one day when you have children, you will understand its importance. And Riya was the eldest, she should have known better. She should have protected the izzat of this family, not protecting her sisters-in-law by hiding it from us" she pointed a shaky finger at him, accusatory hurt in her eyes. He could never laugh at his mother; she had sweated blood and tears to raise the three of them as dadi and bua took advantage of her, making her work even through illness and bad days. But still that didn't give her the right to judge Riya; she might have been a career-oriented girl but she had the intelligence to learn new skills. She certainly had the ability to learn to cook and clean if she could do maths and deliver hour-long presentations to high-levelled businessmen. He believed in her even if no one else did; just knowing how hard she had tried to keep his ridiculous family together had showed him what an amazing mother she would have been to his children. He closed his eyes for a moment, focussing on swallowing the pain at the thought of giving up the person who should have been the mother of his babies. He felt sick as his head spun. Shivam opened his eyes and looked back at his mother, seeing now a stranger infront of him for the first time even if he still wouldn't give up on her. He couldn't believe she cared more about the family reputation than her daughter being kidnapped by a mad man; God only knew what more might have happened to Preeti had Riya not been there to distract Mohit and yet his mother still couldn't see it. As stupid as Riya had been and as angry as he had been at her for not seeking out his help, he knew her heart had been in the right place... she had even possibly saved Preeti from worse horrors than kidnapping and he would be grateful to her for that for the rest of his life. If Mohit had done the unspeakable to Preeti then his entire family would have had a lot more to worry about than her running out on her own wedding. But the truth was his mother had started to care more for what dadi and the rest of society thought of her than her children's happiness and peace of mind; afterall, hadn't she enthusiastically agreed with dadi to marry Preeti to Nandu less than a few hours after Mohit had traumatised her and Riya? He knew his mother interpreted his words differently, believing that he was undermining Riya and making it sound like she didn't deserve him and his family when his meaning had been the complete opposite. His family didn't deserve a clear-hearted woman like her, a woman whose genuineness and truthfulness was suffused in her very bones and blood itself... she was too good for them. Too good for a man like him. He felt his heart deflate in defeat, hopeless and empty as his family truly got what they had wanted after he shunned her so publically yet again; the knowledge of his wife's breaking heart still threatened to spill his tears as he blinked them back again, now looking at his mother's wrath in sombreness. "I wouldn't dare to laugh at you Ma. I jus-" She interrupted him, her voice achingly gentle and sounding infinitely weary and alone, "Please... Shivam... just leave it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I did anything. I don't want you and Mummyji to fight because of me... I'm going-" His heart nearly stopped right there and then, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he realised he had interrupted her, "Where are you going?" he growled out as he turned to her, really not wanting her to move even an inch away from him never mind out the front door; she said five months and he would not let her go until he had no choice left anymore. She looked at him in puzzlement before masking it away beneath her sadness, "I'll leave you alone here with the family for a while, I'm just making things worse being here. I'll stay out of your way while I cook my food... I promise I wont bother you for the rest of the day..." He tried to swallow the cold lump of pain stuck in his throat as it suffocated him, the silent tears flowing freely over her face now at her mother-in-law's nasty accusations. How could he let her live like this for the rest of her life? How? No matter how much he loved her and wanted to keep her by his side she would never be free of them, not unless he left his family and once he did, he would never be welcomed back. Maybe even his own sisters would disown him. He loved his mother; he worried for her... he had spent his lifetime worrying about her as though it had become second nature to him and he couldn't just turn it off like a switch... Could he just leave her, abandon her to his dadi and bua, even to a husband who was barely present? She would only get older and more frail, having to fend for herself and alone with two women who had spent their lives turning her into their personal slave. Not for the first time was he tempted to grab his wife's hand and simply walk out to never look back again... and yet his worries for his mother continued to bubble to the surface. His mother seemed fully capable of making Riya feel small and insignificant given what she believed about her... but could he abandon her to these women, alone and vulnerable to their cruelty for the rest of her life? He wasn't sure; she could obviously stand up for herself and yet she refused to do so against the people she should have been pointing the finger at. He wasn't sure of damn well anything anymore... the only thing he was sure of was Riya. His Riya. The girl with the dazzling, effervescent smile that could rival the light of the sun... the mischievous glint in her eyes as she teased him, her contagious sense of humour making him smile from ear to ear... the untapped passion in her heart and her body as she craved him. His touch, his kisses... him. The only thing he was truly sure about anymore was that he loved her, adored her and without her he would be the most broken and wretched man he knew in all his life. If he let her go, if he lost her... he would be lost forever. Of that he was sure.
He looked at Riya for what felt like an eternity, her deep and lonely pools of mahogany reaching out to him from the seemingly infinite chasm between then despite their only being feet apart. Unable to look at her anymore lest he give in and gather her in his arms, he turned back to his mother and looked absent-mindedly at his watch "Ma... I don't want to fight with you. I just think Preeti and Nimmi need to take responsibility for their actions... one day Riya wont be around for them to blame for their every mistake" he shook his head at his mother's deeper scowl even as dadi made a strangled noise of despair from somewhere behind him. He ignored her. "I have to go out; I've got some work to do so don't expect me until later in the day... don't wait up for me if I'm late for dinner..." and without turning back he picked up his heavy backpack full of hardback books and made his way out the front door to head to his class; if he was two hours early then so be it, it beat listening to his family throw verbal rocks at the woman his heart beat for.
*
The pain in her chest wouldn't stop. Why wouldn't it just stop? She gave up on wiping away her tears, now alone in the kitchen as the inky light of the night sky seeped into the open shutters along with the occasional mosquitos and bugs. Since he had left several hours ago she had closed herself away from the rest of the family, repeating and reliving the detachment in his words as he had exclaimed to his whole family that he didn't love her, that she wouldn't be their problem soon enough. Why did you have to kiss me? She wiped the tears from her cheek before it fell into the small pot of vibrant green spinach, her heart feeling like it had sprouted claws and was grappling its way out of her body and away from her, just as he had tried to run away from her. He was the one who held her life in the palm of his hands, was it any wonder that the barely beating organ in her chest wanted to get away from her and be with him too? She didn't know what true loneliness had meant until today... yes she had her best friend and her father... but the one person who completed her, who made her heart beam and her throat ache had shunned her and rejected her yet again for all to hear. Even as he had stood inbetween herself and Amit, she had felt safe and protected simply being in his presence, like he was her knight and guardian angel and yet she was sure it was unintentional for why would he care if Amit looked at her anymore? She could never forget the way he had been fair in his explanation of Nimmi and Preeti, absolving her of total blame in the whole sordid affair... but even as he had given with one hand, he had ripped her heart out yet again with the other. Why did you kiss me! She let out a barely strangled sob, her throat aching with the repressed agony of it as she swallowed back her tears. Her eyes were sore and she shuddered to think what she looked like having quietly cried her fill as she moved about the kitchen and took her time. She hated him and loved him and missed him all at the same time; her hands ached to beat at his hard chest until she fell to her knees just as they ached to wrap around his shoulders, bury her face into his neck and never ever let go. If only he hadn't kissed her... if only he hadn't moaned into her mouth and barely whispered her name as he sunk his tongue inbetween her lips... if only he hadn't touched her like he had needed her to breathe... she would have left him be in peace. She would have found what little energy she had left to extricate herself from his life and his world. But no... her brain was screaming at her to just go while her heart was firmly anchored to him and the root of who he was. Of the man she was unendingly in love with.
Amit had interrupted her painful reverie a half hour ago having now left; buaji's voice had matriculated through the slightly open door asking him to boil some milk for her and stressing that the phate sari in the kitchen was not to go anywhere near it as she laughed at her own joke. Her whole body had tensed at his presence, wishing every moment that crawled by would instead hurry up and leave her alone again instead of his constant glances her way even if he would not speak to her. She was thankful at least for small blessings. She had barely paid him any attention, throwing all her focus on what she was cooking in order to avoid any communication with him and so when she looked at the covered pan sitting precariously on the edge of the counter she didn't think twice before picking it up. "AH! Aahh!" she actually sobbed out in pain as she hissed the stuffy air in through her contracted windpipe, her fingers burning and flinching so severely that she knocked half the pan's contents onto her sari. Her voice pitched and she cried out harder as the initial sharp and acute pain wracked through her, the sudden shock of pain singeing her nerve endings and squeezing her windpipe closed for a moment before it morphed into something far worse. The acute pain twisting over her every nerve endings soon turned into an uncompromising fire licking over her delicate skin, as though someone had dropped hot embers over her and left her there to endure it. She couldn't stop the unbidden sobs of pain leaving her throat and lungs as she ran to the sink and splashed cold water on her chest where the frothy liquid had spilt over her. The recently boiled milk seeped through the thin layers of nylon sari, her skin already burning and feeling like it was searing from the scorching liquid that now plastered the material to her like melted plastic. She cried out again, tears of physical pain now rolling down her cheeks as she pulled at the swathe wrapped around her waist and chest and held it away from her. She couldn't undress here no matter how much it hurt... and God it hurt so much. Riya blustered out of the kitchen, clutching the bunched up sari to her chest as her blouse now chafed against her painful skin; seeing no one in the lounging area she lifted up her sari and ran to the upstairs washroom desperate to strip herself of her soaked clothes and to see the damage the milk had caused. She pushed herself against the door before pushing down the handle in her hurry and when it didn't give she cursed. Damn it! Come ON! She pushed again when the voice inside made her freeze her movements even as she grit her teeth with the pain. "Aray! I am in here... what is the hurry, huh? I wont be long..." she couldn't mistake Papajis drowsy and almost permanently soporific voice emanate through the locked door. Riya didn't bother to reply back, too embarrassed at interrupting whatever he had been doing and in much too much pain to hang back any longer. She had no other choice left as looked longingly at the room at the far end of the landing. He won't be back until later... it's not even dinner time yet. I can be in and out in ten minutes and no one will know.
*
He placed the tips of his fingers against his temples, massaging the small muscles in circles with his elbows propped on the plastic desk as the bright light of the room felt like spikes in his brain. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, the letters on the page now swimming as he gave up on his concentration after hours of study. "Shivam... you should probably go home, son. Everyone else has left and there really is no need for you to be here; I'm sure you can continue reading at home. I have no more teaching material for today" he looked up at the man who had been teaching his evening classes for the past month and a half before offering a small smile. "Maybe you're right Mr. Uttam... but to be honest I don't want to go home right now. There's always some drama happening..." he trailed off, not wanting to give too much away to a stranger even if he had come to respect the man. The man smiled, his thin glasses glinting in the light as he perched on the edge of an empty desk, "Well... then stop studying for today. I've been very impressed with your consistency Shivam. You're more than ready to sit the exam but that's something you have to know in yourself. You're going to make an excellent Gym Instructor if your grades and practical assessments are anything to go by. You have grasped the Anatomy and Physiology module better than I expected considering you didn't take Biology. You already have excellent interpersonal skills from your day job as a sales rep and you seem to have a knack for planning and evaluating your own gym programme. Its evident to me that you work hard to keep your body in peak physical condition; as a teacher it shows me that you understand nutrition, personal exercise techniques as well as an understanding of the cardiovascular and energy systems and how you use it to work with the body instead of against it. You know your stuff Shivam, trust yourself and just go for it" Mr. Uttam shook his head gently at him, "There's only so much studying you can do for this kind of thing. Once you master the theory and complete the practical assessments there is nothing left but to just improve your skills whilst on the job. But for you to do that, you need to pass the exam" he chuckled softly even as Shivam smiled back at him, knowing in the recesses of his mind that he had been right. He simply hadn't wanted to screw things up, thereby missing his chance and waiting months to re-take the exam; he was counting on making a good impression on the Action Corp client that Gupta had placed him in charge of securing. If he passes the exam with excellent grades then hopefully Gupta could put in a good word with them on his behalf. "Now listen... you go home and I will see you at the same time next week. Seriously consider making it your last session with me, yes? And Shivam, get some sleep... you're looking more tired each time I see you, it's not good for your body. Go... and please, do call me Manoj; Mr. Uttam sounds much too formal for this time of the evening" Shivam was grateful that he was having a normal conversation with a normal person for once in the last twenty-four hours. The one person who made him feel like he was truly home was Riya; no matter where he was he felt like he had come home as long as she was with him, laughing and joking and teasing him as they settled in one another's arms. But that had been a luxury he had forsaken and now he was left with the scraps of kind and gentle conversations with strangers and people who didn't know him. He missed her... as though someone had rammed a shovel into his heart, scooped it out and poured it into her. He brushed his fingers through his hair as his professor retreated out of the room, knowing the incessant banging against his skull wouldn't abate any time soon. I miss you. All the f**king time. He bit the inside of his lip hard enough that he felt the sting of reality force itself into his consciousness; it didn't matter how much he missed her or how good she could make him feel with just one smile or her caress against his skin. He had tossed her aside like yesterday's rubbish infront of his entire family, easily flinging out the words of her impending departure, of how little she meant to him and feeling like he was ripping a chunk out of his heart each time he had. And now he had no option to go back; they probably hadn't even eaten their dinner yet which meant he would see her beautiful face in her usual corner as his family set the table. He didn't want to look at her; he would only see his own recent and freshly cut cruelty reflected back in her eyes at him and he couldn't bare it. Not when he missed her so f**king much, not when his own mother had verbally destroyed her so vehemently. His stomach rumbled painfully even if he didn't seem to have had an appetite since this whole nightmare started; either way Manoj was right, if he wanted to move forward in his career choice then he would have to take care of his body. It was an essential part of promoting his ability to do the best job he could; being a fitness trainer in the hopes of eventually reaching a managerial position and opening his own gym had been a dream of his since he had left college. He couldn't afford to let his body deteriorate if he wanted to show prospective employers that he was serious about his career and studies and so he settled on going home and simply whipping up several eggs in a shake as a quick protein-rich meal. Without her to sit and eat with, food had become tasteless, pointless even and so Shivam had succumbed to drinking his food in the form of protein shakes and quick omelettes at the end of a long day much to his mother's displeasure. Of course she had blamed Riya for his cutting out heavy carbohydrates and grease, not realising that she was the only one who had noticed the change in his diet. Not realising that she had always made sure to cook extra lean meat and fish for him as she surreptitiously left it amongst his mother's cooking at the end of the night. Riya might not have realised how much he knew her, but he did know his wife; he knew her cooking, the taste of her food, laced with love and tenderness in each bite he took. He had never been able to refuse her food, even if she hadn't made it obvious and even if they never spoke about it... she left it out for him and he ate it, relishing each morsel as he tasted the love with which she made it. Just thinking about it made his heart twist painfully.
Yeh Rishta Kya Kehlata Hai
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