"Why do you call me Myra Srivastava… and not Myra Oberoi?”

I asked, gently pulling away from Viraat.

The moment I stepped out of his embrace, something inside me felt… wrong. Empty.

But this was necessary. Otherwise, it would start meaning something else.

Until now, I had never hugged anyone like that.

But in Viraat’s arms… I felt safe. Too safe.

And that was dangerous.

It wasn’t love.

Not feelings.

Just… a desperate need for comfort.

And it wasn’t just about me.

Maybe he felt uncomfortable too… that’s why he had only held the back of my head, nothing more.

That meant… he didn’t like this.

So I stepped away.

And decided—next time, I’ll be careful.

Just like a friend.

He looked at me, and I waited for his answer.

“Because Srivastava is your identity… not Oberoi. Oberoi is mine. I can’t impose that on you.”

I blinked, processing his words.

“And what if someday I choose to use Oberoi myself?” I asked softly.

“Then that would be your choice.”

He shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal.

Your choice.

Such a simple phrase.

Yet it felt so unfamiliar.

So many women lose their identity after marriage…

And here he was, asking me for my CHOICE so effortlessly.

I felt something warm rise in my chest.

“Ek hi to dil hai, kitni baar jeetenge aap Mr. Oberoi? "

I said dramatically.

But Something shifted in his expression.

“I—I’m sorry… if that bothered you,” I stammered.

But instead of reacting…

He blushed.

I froze for a second—then smirked.

“Hey… you’re blushing,” I teased, just like he teased me before.

He immediately turned away, smiling, and stood up.

“Let’s just eat something. I’m hungry.”

“Hey! You can’t just walk away! Answer me!”

I ran after him.

“Please, Myra… just be quiet,” he laughed, covering his face.

“Oh really? Like you were quiet that day?”

And just like that, laughing and teasing, we walked toward the kitchen.

🌺

“So, Myra… what would you like to eat?”

Viraat asked, spreading his arms dramatically.

“Hmm…” I pretended to think.

“Something quick… and tasty.”

I placed a hand on my stomach.

“Because I’m really hungry. And if I don’t get food soon… my stomach might just eat me instead.”

He chuckled.

“Is that so?You are Saying like you Haven't  eaten anything since morning"

“After your halwa… nothing.”

He froze.

And Turned toward me slowly.

“You mean… that’s all you’ve eaten today?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged casually.

He shook his head.

“What do you even do?… now I understand why you fainted.”

“It’s not a big deal… I’m used to it.”

“Used to it?” he repeated, crossing his arms.

I picked up an apple.

“When I got upset… I just wouldn’t eat.

And anyway… no one really asked. Sometimes, food was taken away as punishment too.So it has become a habit now to not expect from others that they will ever ask me if I've eaten or not...”

I took a bite.

There was Silence.

So I looked at him.

There was no pity in his eyes.

Only understanding.

As if He know how this feels.

And somehow… that hurt more.

“Viraat… really, it’s okay. I’m used to it.”

“No one should ever get used to that,”

he said quietly.

“…to a point where they don’t even expect someone to ask if they’ve eaten.”

I froze.

“I—I…”

“Change this habit now Myra ,Because now you have me… and I won’t ever let you sleep hungry.”

And just like that, he turned away again.

I stood there, speechless.

No words. No reactions.

Why is he so good to me… when I’ve never done anything for him?

When he said he doesn’t tolerate me… he takes care of me—

He meant it.

And I had felt it from the very first day.

“Viraat…” I called softly.

“Yes, Myra?” He turned.

“Thank you… for everything.”

He smiled, dimples showing.

“Save that ‘thank you’ for the day I actually do 'everything' for you.”

And something inside me… shifted again.

I smiled back.

“Should I make instant noodles for now?” he asked.

“Yes.”

I walked over and stood beside him.

“By the way… when did you last eat?” I asked.

He paused.

“I don’t remember… maybe I didn’t eat today. I had a surgery in the morning… then I called you… then went out looking for you…”

I gulped.

Guilt hit me instantly.

Without saying anything, I walked to the fridge, took out two apples, and started cutting them.

After sprinkling salt and chaat masala, I mixed them.

“What are you doing?” he asked, stepping closer.

“Are the noodles ready?”

“Almost.”

“Good.”

I turned and placed the bowl in his hands.

“Stand here… and eat this.”

He leaned against the slab, amused.

“Oh? So I’m being taken care of now?”

“Be grateful. I don’t do this for everyone,” I said teasingly.

“Please continue your kindness, my lady,” he folded his hands dramatically.

I blushed and handed him a fork.

I moved to the stove and checked the noodles.

Then I looked at him.

Really looked at him.

Black t-shirt hugging his frame… grey sweatpants… slightly messy hair…

Proving He was… handsome.

I quickly turned away and started serving the noodles into two bowls.

“Let me—”

“Stay where you are,” I cut him off.

“Oh God… I’m scared now, Miss Srivastava.”

I looked at him… and winked.

“You should be. From your wife.”

The moment the words left my mouth—

He Again. Just like Before.

Completely still.

His gaze locked on me.

I realized… too late.

He cleared his throat and looked away, continuing to eat.

I said nothing.

After serving, I placed the bowls on a tray.

As I walked toward him, he had already finished the fruits.

He took the tray from my hands.

“Where to, Your Highness?” he asked.

I laughed.

“Our room.”

He leaned slightly closer.

“Will this be enough for you?”

“No. We’ll order more. We’re both hungry.”

" Sure?"

"1000% sure"

“Alright… let’s go then.”

I giggled And just like that, we went back to the room.

We ordered pasta, fried rice, and some snacks.

An hour later, after eating… we fell asleep again.

Yes… today had brought pain.

But with Viraat…

I had found something greater than that.

Moments of happiness.

And for the first time—

I felt like I mattered to someone.

And somehow…

That was enough.

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

Sorry it's a very Short Chapter but next one would be approximately 3000 words 🌺

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