#7

MEDDIE'S POV

It is 12 noon currently. The wedding took place 2 hours ago. I'm still trying to process everything that has happened to my life in the span of a couple of weeks.

I'm in his room, with Stuti by my side. Thankfully she had followed Damiano and I back here. I was terrified when Stu spoke up to him to let her stay with me.

I was scared for her well being. And I'm not one to be scared easily. But since coming here, this man has me spooked to the bone.

I don't know what will make Damiano burst out and hurt her. But I know Stuti. And she's not one to bow down when she wants something done.

After a mild verbal fight he allowed her to stay with me on the condition that we are only permitted to stay in his room.

He left after that. Saying something about 'doing work'.

A maid brought food for us a while later. And again she had forgotten that I don't eat meat. So the only one eating was Stuti.

There was some chicken dish. I'm assuming the maids tried to cook chicken curry of some kind. The plate contained rice to go with the chicken curry. There were also two cups of tea.

I picked up a cup of tea, not really paying attention to it, talking with Stuti about how the night changes and how our lives took a 180 degree turn.

She told about how that brutish goon with the green eyes has been giving her weird looks all throughout our 10-12 day stay in this mansion.

We weren't really allowed to leave our room. The maid bought us our food in the room. And I had to keep reminding her again and again that I do not eat any kind of meat. It was taxing.

I've never felt this trapped in my life ever.

'You're literally trapped right now.'

'Shut. The. Fuck. Up. You smirking piece of my imagination.'

Ughh! My conscience is a fickle little idiot.

"Stuti I want you to promise me something."

She stops eating and puts a hand on my shoulder in a comforting way, "yes sis whatever you say."

"I want you to promise me that you won't tell anyone about what happened in the 15 days that we've spent in this country. No one. Not your parents, not mine. Not Pragya, Megha, Yashika or Sanjana. None of them need to know how dreadful it's been for the last 15 days of our lives. Please. I don't need anyone stressing about all of this."

"I'll tell my parents when I think the time is right. And I have 3 years to figure something out. I'm sure there is a way out. Main abhi mummy papa, ya kisi dost ko kuch bhi batake unhe pareshaan nahi karna chahti. Aur tujhe pata hai ki fir vo mujhe kahi nahi jaane denge. Lol. College bhi mummy ke saath aana padega mujhe." I laugh after I utter the last sentence. Because it is 110 percent true. (I don't want to tell my parents or any of our friends anything right now, because I don't want to stress them out. And you know that after I tell them, they won't let me go anywhere alone. I'll have to go to college with my mom escorting me.)

I take a sip of the tea…. And put it back down on the tray.

I'm never gonna get used to boiling water mixed with a bag of tea leaves.

That's not tea in my eyes. Tea is not just a beverage in my country. It is a conversation starter. Wherever there is gossip, there is tea. Wherever there are friends, there is tea. Whenever guests are home, you guessed it, there is tea.

Tea is an emotion for my people. Making good tea is a skill. An art you practice by making bad tea for your parents and graduating when your parents entrust you with the duty of making good tea for the guests.

Since Stu and I have been kidnapped and I have been forced to marry, I haven't had much food. I miss my mom's food so much. Plain and simple. Oh god! I bet there is drool on my face just thinking of going back home to mom's food.

I think I'll have to fight his advances towards me tonight on an empty stomach. Even when I tell the maid that I'm vegetarian, there's not much vegetarian food stocked in this mansion. Or so she tells me. The only things I've been eating have been boiled, salt and peppered vegetables, rice and cheese sandwiches.

Sigh! I really want daal chawal. (Lentil curry and rice.)

It is more delicious than it sounds. Oooh, some cauliflower and potato sabzi and buttermilk with it. Oh my gawd!! I want my food. I can't handle the boiled vegetables now. (Sabzi means vegetables when translated literally. Any vegetable or a combination of two or more vegetables cooked with amazing spices is called sabzi in India. It can be prepared with or without curry.)

It goes silent for a few seconds between us, given I wasn't paying much attention to what Stu was saying. I was busy imagining my food, as I won't get much here.

The maid comes back in the room to take back the dishes, she's in her 50s. Maybe. She only speaks Italian. Well I assume it is Italian. So it gets laborious explaining to her what I want to eat.

She looks at the tray with an irritated look I suppose. Even though I'm the one who should be irritated.

"Perché non mangi il cibo? Figlio ingrato?" She looks at me with a glare. And I know she's talking about the uneaten food. Because Stuti is still licking her fingers. Apparently the food was appetizing. (Why do you not eat the food? You ungrateful child?)

I wouldn't know now would I?

And look at the luck I was born with, the devil in my life decided this is the perfect moment to enter the room. Eye roll.

"Perché c'è ancora del cibo nel piatto? Quale di loro non ha mangiato?" (Why is there food still on the plate? Which one of them did not eat?)

"Tua moglie. Fa sempre i capricci su ciò che vuole mangiare." The maid sneers to whatever he'd said. (Your wife. She always throws a tantrum about what she wants to eat.)

"Rispetterai la mia regina, vecchio rospo. Partire." He angrily replied to her. She bows her head and leaves. (You will respect my queen you old toad. Leave.)

He then turns to face me. "Why aren't you eating your food? You think not eating will change anything?"

I in turn face Stuti and say, "Ab is chutiye ko kaise samjhaun?" I roll my eyes and she laughs out loud. (Now how do I explain to this dumbass.)

"Tell me tesoro." (Sweetheart.)

"I've told your maid, for the past 12 days, repeatedly that I don't consume any kind of meat. She forgets this everyday. It's not my fault." Eye roll.

I'm getting comfortable here. Which I know I shouldn't. But I am. And it is visible in my behaviour, to me at least.

'Just accept it already you baboon's butt. You like him. He's exactly what you've always wanted in a man. He has black hair, two ocean like blue pearls, a very very defined jawline. And he's dominant in nature. You can't lie to me you nincompoop. I'm a part of the deepest desires you possess.'

'Baboon's butt?' I just got roasted by my own conscience.

Unexpectedly I feel a hard nudge in my stomach. I look to see Stuti, slightly on edge.

I turn and face the real baboons ass here. He's standing stick straight, with his arms folded in front, his chest puffed out, legs shoulder width apart.

'Oh Em Gee!! Look at those damn muscles in his arms!! Uh huh!!! Work 'em more boo!!'

'Shut up. Shut up. Shut UP!! You silly little shit.'

He moves forward and squats down in front of me on the floor. Tucking my hair behind my ear. His face shows tender expressions. No anger. No annoyance. Just tenderness.

"Mi dispiace piccola. I'll teach her a lesson don't you worry. Now tell me what do you want to eat?" (I'm sorry babygirl.)

"Huh?! What do you mean you'll teach her a lesson? What will you do to her? She's an old lady. I don't want you doing anything to hurt her."

"Fine. What do you want to eat?"

Huh?! It was that easy to make him agree?

"I can make something for myself. I just need the kitchen."

He looks at my face intensely. Like he's thinking about it.

"Bene. But if you attempt to kill me…" He puts his thumb on his neck and gestures the slitting of a neck with his thumb. (Fine.)

" I know I know." Eye roll. This fucking threat is the only reason I haven't done anything stupid. I could never put Stuti in a spot where she would get hurt.

'You've already done that once, if you don't remember.'

'Oh gracious conscience, I thank you so much for reminding me how I almost killed my fucking friend.'

'Donkey's ass."

'I would slap the shit out of you if I could.'

"Let's go Stu. Tujhe chai chahiye?" (You want tea?)

He grips my elbow tight. "What?!?" I shout at him. He gives me questioning eyes.

"I'm not planning your murder if that's what you're thinking. Do you drink tea?" The ending was blurted out in a haste. Why did I ask him this? Why would I want to make tea for him? What the fuck is wrong with me today?

He smirks at me, "are you offering to make tea for me, your husband? Already starting with your wifely duties, wife?"

Have I told anyone that I hate his smirk? Cause I do. It's fucking exasperating to look at.

I give him a blank look. "Forget it. Just show me to the kitchen."

He intertwined our fingers and leads the way to the kitchen.

The kitchen is…. Awesome! It is installed with every bit of modernity there can be in a kitchen. A very big double door refrigerator, it's door showing today's weather and news updates. Marble countertops, beautiful cream colored cupboards, a big marble island table in the centre of the kitchen with four beautiful hanging lights over it. The kitchen also has a big window and a very comfortable looking seating, kind of like a booth, in front of it in the same cream and marble theme. The flooring throughout the kitchen is Italian marble tile in cream color.

The kitchen was simply gorgeous.

"Wow!"

"Damn!" Stuti and I exclaimed at the same time.

"I'd need help with finding the ingredients." I face Damiano. He snaps his fingers and a maid comes forward. I didn't even notice there were people around the kitchen. I need to start paying attention to my surroundings.

"Come posso aiutarti?" She asked. (What can I help you with?)

"Huh?!"

"What ingredients do you want?" Damiano speaks.

"Milk, tea, loose leaf preferably, sugar, ginger, cardamom, macaroni, an onion, green chillies, a tomato, mayonnaise, tomato sauce, red pepper, salt, oregano, and show me the spice cabinet." I told them what was required to make tea and homestyle macaroni. That's the fastest and easiest dish I know. And seeing as I'm a very lazy person, I don't like cooking very much. Only when it is an absolute necessity.

I didn't realise but just as I had begun telling what I needed, the maid had started running around the kitchen finding them for me.

I hesitate before I speak again. I wanted the kitchen empty of the maids. I don't cook well under pressure and when people are watching. I mess everything up, even if I know how to cook well.

"Um… can the kitchen not have so many people while I cook?"

Awkward.

"Partire." And with a flick of his hand everyone starts leaving the kitchen. (Leave.)

And then I start cooking tea and macaroni. It takes only half an hour. I'm slow with the knives. Hehe.

"Do you want macaroni?"

"Yes!"

"Yes."

The question was intended only for Stuti, but I guess I should've said her name at the end to make it clear. Because I got a very excited yes and a mildly interested one from Damiano.

I need to shorten his name to something. It's a mouthful.

I serve the macaroni and tea in three plates and cups respectively. Giving myself more than the other two. Chef's cut.

"Mmmmmm. Oh My God!! Meddie ghar ki yaad aa gayi. It is so fucking tasty. OMG!! I needed this tea today. A great stress buster. Thank you so much Medhavi for making this for me." I guess the Mac and tea is good then. (This reminded me of home.)

I look towards Damiano, his hesitation in eating the food is written all over his face. Clearly he isn't used to consuming food without meat in it.

"It's good." He says after finally taking a small bite. I shrug at this remark. Not that his opinion matters to me. I was the one hungry for days. It's my opinion that matters to me right now. And I've made the most delicious macaroni I've ever made in my cooking history.