Planning

Suhad

I stared horrified at the piece of scrap in the box. I was calling it a piece of scrap because that's what it was. To call it a dress would be an insult to all the other dresses in existence. It was exposing, snug, and skimpy. All the things that I never wanted in a dress. To think that my husband had gifted me with something like this was something I never imagined. I mean he'd seen the type of clothes I wore, how could he then choose this for me?

Was this a joke?

I glanced up at Shadab considering that as a possibility but his face was anything but jovial. He was looking at me very seriously.

Ok. So he's serious.

I gulped.

"You don't like it." It was a statement, not a question.

"It's nothing like that. It's just that... I have never worn such kind of scrap- I mean dress before." I tried to explain.

"You can start now, can't you?"

Did he mean wearing this thing in private?

I imagined myself in this dress and it gave me the shivers.