It wasn’t true what they said. About husbands changing after marriage.
In her last marriage, she hadn’t known Aditya as a person to realise the difference, but in her marriage with Aryan, she saw so many things.
Imlie knew Aryan before she married him. Imlie’s belief in him might have shaken in the circumstances that they got married in, but she knew the kind of person Aryan Singh Rathore was.
It didn’t take even a week before her belief in him was back.
Because that’s just the way Aryan Singh Rathore was.
He was constant.
Oh, his ways may change, but his ideals, his beliefs, and his character, remained the same.
Imlie never really thought of Aryan Singh Rathore as a life partner before they were married. She didn’t see him as one even after they were married. For a long time, she did everything in her power to not accept him as a life partner.
She failed.
Aryan Singh Rathore was perfect in everything he did, what’s to say he isn’t perfect in being a husband too.
They didn’t do the anything of the sort after they were married, hadn’t done it yet.
At first, it was because Imlie’s mind was f*cked up.
Now, it’s because Imlie isn’t sure if she can ask him something like this.
However, she knew he would follow her lead.
That’s what they’ve been doing the past three months.
The day they got married, his Badi Maa and somewhat of an Evil Friend came to live with them. Which made them live in the same room. He followed her lead in letting her decide the sleeping arrangements.
The day they left, she didn’t ask for a separate room, and he followed her lead in not asking her anything about it.
Aryan Singh Rathore, the ever constant man that he was, stayed stubborn in many matters relating to her.
He didn’t let her withdraw from college.
He didn’t let her resign from her job.
He didn’t let her pay instalments to the house she didn’t even live in.
He didn’t let her pay rent for the house she did live in and all because now she was an official member.
So Aryan remained unchanged.
He was still prone to giving motivational speeches when she was down. She still was motivated by them.
He was still prone to teaching her life lessons when she was going the wrong way. She realised slowly how his life lessons were the only thing keeping her from the wrong way.
He was still prone to scolding her when she did anything for the Tripathis’. She resisted for a while, but listened to him when she realised that he was right all along. The Tripathis’ only considered her Beti as long as she was available for their beloved son.
He was still prone to holding her hand and dragging her from one place to another. It wasn’t so difficult, because she ended up doing that too.
He was still prone to being a stubborn ABP. She continued to fight Dangals with him whenever necessary.
He was still prone to loaning his third points to her. She had learned to read between the lines and understand what the third point was.
He was still prone to exercise the right he had over her, one he had before they even married. Imlie, strangely enough, began to enjoy it.
What Imlie was not prone to was his questioning her, 'Tum kya kar logi?(What can you do?)' in that voice.
A shiver ran through her body every time.
The first time he said that to her, they were still unmarried. He was trying to control her private life, and she wasn’t up to it, like at all. She hadn’t registered his tone then.
The second time he said that to her, they weren’t still married yet, but they were on the way. The way he hadn’t caved even after being trapped by her, the way she was too much of an emotional mess to see through his challenge.
The third time, they were married. They were still fighting as it was soon after their marriage. They still didn’t see eye to eye. It was one of the lighter days. They hadn’t fought once since morning. And it was close to evening already. It felt like an achievement.
Also, not.
She knew they were going to fight. She just knew it in her gut.
Silent days like these usually ended that way between them.
And what a fight it was.
Later that day, they were in a party, a party with all the journalists, reporters, media specialists and officials involved in various press committees. She was there as more Aryan Singh Rathore’s wife and less Reporter Imlie.
She had good articles under her belt, but not enough to be warranted a pass to a party like this.
Aryan and her were having a good time. She met so many people, people who were an inspiration to young journalists and reporters like her. She made connections, finding people who appeal to her type of writing. She acquired offers to experience journalism with seasoned specialists who recorded what was shown and presented in a way that was their own.
And all this time, Aryan helped her.
He helped her mingle, he made her see the world she was entering, he gave her power over these people.
One guy, a journalist with political connections, Mr. Abhijeet Shikhawat, a particularly rude journalist who wrote pieces that exposed every secret an individual could hold, was at the party too. Aryan had leaned into her ear and said, “Mention the list of politicians you acquired while investigating Mirchi Bazaar, and your job is done. Do it with subtlety.”
And that’s what had happened. Imlie now had a journalist to mirror for a week.
Another woman, who wrote on various women’s issues and worked with an NGO, Ms. Shaila Agnihotri, a brilliant woman in all aspects, who had heart-wrenching articles under her belt about different women in different societies, but being treated the same, was attending the party. Aryan had pulled Imlie beside him, and introduced her as Imlie from Pagdandiya, who was also his wife.
And then he proceeded to state the two pieces she had on working women and the women who defied societal norms by challenging the society in the way they presented themselves.
Imlie had watched on as they moved from person to person, making connections everywhere, and she realised she had never seen this side of him. The way he knew what appealed to what person made him a great businessman.
And then she realised that she had seen this side of him very well. The entire time he encouraged her towards what was right for her, he had seen what appealed to her too. He knew her well, so well that she didn’t even need to speak for him to understand what she was thinking.
Was it the businessman? Or the husband? Or the something they were before they got married?
She had no time to dwell on those thoughts as he pulled her to the dance floor. She let herself be pulled, she was in no mood to fight, and in no way wanted to ruin, what was turning out to be, a good night. It was not some special dance anyway. They just swayed to some music.
But then she saw him smirk, and she turned around and found Aditya in a corner, a drink in his hand, sulking.
She realised what she thought of as mindless dancing was actually something else.
Her eyes fired as she grabbed his hand and pulled him off the dance floor.
She didn’t even wait to think what she was implying by doing this.
By the time they were alone, on a balcony connected to the ballroom, his smirk had grown into a full grin and she was reeling in anger.
She humphed when she saw his smile, and then asked, “Tumka bahut maza aawat hai? Aditya Sir ko ee haal maan dekh kar?(Are you having fun? Seeing the state Aditya Sir is in?)”
Aryan’s smirk had returned when he answered, “Haan. Bahut.(Yes. Very.)”
Imlie’s eyes flashed, “Kaa karat ho tum ABP? Aakhir chahat kaa ho tum?(What are you doing ABP? What do you even want?)”
Aryan’s smile finally dimmed then, “Abhi bhi mujhse hai sare sawaal? Abhi bhi main hi galat?(Now too, you are asking me? Now too, I’m the one in the wrong?)”
Imlie sighed, “Toh kaa samjhe hum? Hum tohar saath uu ha naach rahe the.(So what do I think? I was dancing with you right there.”
Aryan answered, his fury clear in his words, “Jaanta hun Imlie. Main tha waha pe.(I know Imlie. I was there.)”
Imlie asked, “Sach?(Really?)”
Aryan was annoyed, “Toh aur kya? Tumhare saamne tha main.(What else? I was right in front of you.)”
Imlie yelled then, “Toh tohar nazre Aditya Sir pe kaahe thi? Haan?(So why were your eyes on Aditya Sir? Why?)”
Aryan sighed then, “Maine tumhe kaha hai Imlie, don’t defend that man in front of me.(I’ve told you many times Imlie, don’t defend that man in front of me.)”
Imlie moved towards him then, “Hum uuka defendiyawat naahi hai. Hum toka rok rahe hai.(I am not defending him. I am stopping you.)”
Aryan scoffed as he moved closer to her, “Mujhe kyun rok rahi ho tum? Apne Babu—(Why are you stopping me? Your Babu—)”
Imlie ventured closer, “Hum toka pehle bhi keh chuke rahe, uu humre Babu—(I’ve said this to you before, he is not my Babu—)”
Aryan turned away then, interrupting her, “Oh please Imlie!”
Imlie was furious when she grabbed his elbow and pulled him back to face her, “Please Imlie naahi. Hum kaahe please? Tum uu ka jalaye khatir ee kar sakat ho, toh—(No please Imlie. Why do I please you? You can do this to make him jealous, so I—)”
And he grabbed her elbow in return, pulling her closer, a mere breath away, “Toh kya Imlie. Tum kya kar logi?(So what Imlie? What can you do?)”
Suddenly, all at once, Imlie’s heartbeat fastened. His voice raising a challenge. His damn eyebrow raised in question. His stance of a predator prancing for his prey.
Her breath hitched, her protest was lost, and she was speechless.
His eyes moved over her face then, before resting on her lips. She gulped, her eyes finding his lips too.
The tension in the air had nothing to do with the fight and everything to do with the things left unspoken between them.
Imlie closed her eyes when he leaned closer, unsure of how this was gonna go. Unsure of how she wanted it to go.
But he just passed her lips and whispered in her ear, “Decide karlo. Tumhe problem isse hai ki meri wajah se Aditya Kumar Tripathi jala, ki maine tumhaare saath dance sirf usse jalaane ke liye kiya?(You decide. What is your problem, that I made Aditya Kumar Tripathi jealous, or I danced with you only to make him jealous?)”
After that, he was gone. Away from her. Giving her space to breathe.
She had opened her eyes and he hadn’t left. He leaned on the railing of the balcony, looking out at the view beyond it, and Imlie knew that something between them had shifted again.
After that, whenever he said 'Tum kya kar logi?(What can you do?)' Imlie lost her breath. Every time he uttered those words, something shifted between them.
A desire rose within Imlie.
But that wasn’t all.
What Imlie was not able to fight was him being prone to calling her 'Imlie Aryan Singh Rathore'.
A shudder ran through her body every time he did that.
Her last time being married, she had to fight to earn the name of her husband.
She fought society, Aditya’s family, Aditya’s love and wife, and Aditya for that name.
Aryan fought the same people by uttering her name with his.
In the beginning, it hadn’t affected her much. In the beginning, he mostly said it to clear everyone’s notion of the right that they had over her. In the beginning, it was just another tactic, just a way to exact his revenge.
But slowly, it changed.
At least for her.
But for him too.
She still remembered the look he had given her the first time she had introduced herself as Imlie Aryan Singh Rathore.
It was a weird time.
She was already in a dilemma at home, what with this woman coming over from nowhere and wanting to marry her husband. All she could think of was, not again! But she couldn’t fight his family now, could she? She wasn’t his real wife now, was she?
So she had just taken it, until he put a stop to it.
But then they had to leave for the office and he had a meeting at a construction site and she went with him too, because that’s what they’ve always done and they weren’t going to change how they were just because they were married now, would they?
It was a fake marriage after all.
The jealousy was very true.
The moment she saw the woman clinging to him, she felt her blood boil.
First at home, then here. Were all the women falling over him?
Yes, her mind reasoned, he is Aryan Singh Rathore. In the top five of the list of Top 30 Under 30, owner of Rathore Empire and former Mr. India Runner-Up. He was what women called, tall, dark and handsome, along with all the brains.
She sighed, giving up.
But the woman continued to cling, to the point of making even him comfortable.
Imlie, angered on behalf of him, got out of the car and went to stand by him.
All eyes turned to her as her eyes were on the plans laid on the bonnet of the car.
It was the woman who asked, “Excuse me, but who are you?”
And she knew everybody knew who she was. Everybody knew that Aryan Singh Rathore was married now. This woman was being a plain old bitch because she felt like she was superior to her.
She smiled sweetly at the girl, all her five foot five inch in four inches heels a pathetic facade to appear more than what she was. She moved her own five feet two inch in between Aryan and her, and offered her a hand.
She took it, slowly, and Imlie smiled once again, almost too sweetly, and answered finally, “Imlie Aryan Singh Rathore!”, similar to the way he said it.
She heard his intake behind her. She felt him moving closer behind her. She felt his gaze on the back of her head. She felt him.
When she turned to look at him, he was, for once in his life, stumped.
She raised her eyebrows in question and he just gulped.
And Imlie realised, her name attached with his in her voice did to him what his single question did to her.
A question for her was her name to him.
‘Imlie Aryan Singh Rathore’ held power over him as much as the ‘Tum kya kar logi?’ held power over her.
Which brought her back to today.
They had issued more challenges to each other, using new things they found out about each other since the past three months.
It was in one of these challenges that he had caught her, and pulled her to him, his hands surrounding her waist, trapping her in his arms.
She knew what he was going to ask before he did, and she was right, he asked, “Ab kya? Tum kya kar logi?(Now what? What can you do?)”
And she hadn’t shied away then.
She had moved towards him, her eyes never leaving his, and replied, “Hum Imlie Aryan Singh Rathore rahe hai. Kachu toh kar hi lenge.(I’m Imlie Aryan Singh Rathore. There are some things I can do.)”
And his eyes flashed before finding her lips and her eyes found his in return.
It was like time stopped.
And then began to move too fast.
His lips were on hers. Unbidden and unrestrained.
Her lips were on his. Unsure and uninformed.
His arms left her waist as his hands came to cup her cheeks. Her arms moved up to cover his hands with her own. All this while he kissed her, tracing her lips with his tongue and asking for permission, she kissed him back, opening her lips to his tongue, granting him permission. He kissed her like a man out of breath and she kissed him back as if she was the air he was breathing.
He kissed her and Imlie was lost.
When they finally parted, it wasn’t to separate, it was to lean their foreheads against each other. It was to heaving breaths and unbridled smiles and pure bliss.
She knew then.
Their marriage may be something unsure, but their company, their feelings and their desire for each other was never going to be a part of that unsurety.
