Chapter 153 - Between Denial and Acceptance (5)

|Innaya|

The drive to our home was a silent affair. I still could not get over with that mad crackling. That laughter was so akin to that of ghosts I had accidentally listened in a movie.

What kind of sick people were out there to play such kind of things in a deserted area. Anyone could get a heart attack being spooked that way.

Eshan stole glances at me from time to time. He was making sure that I was alright. Was I? Certainly, I wasn't.

I still could not forget that laughter. It reminded me of that woman my father had brought. Her laughter too resembled one I just had heard. She too would enjoy the plight of the child while she tormented me.

"Need some water?"

Eshan's voice startled me as my mind was about to dive into the past.

I bit my lip with my teeth as I nodded solemnly. Then, without waiting for him to fetch me a bottle of water, I leaned and took it. I tend to drink a lot of water when I was stressed. It was no wonder that I found the half liters of water disappearing down my throat within a couple of sips. I knew I should not hurry and gulp down big mouthfuls, but I couldn't help.

"Slow down, sweetheart. You'll choke otherwise." Eshan slowed down the car.

I sighed and headed to his advice. Sometimes you do weird things when you are stressed. I was no different. I did many weird things. Fortunately, Eshan was taking them pretty well. If it were someone else, I dared not imagine the reception.

"Are you sure, it was the ringtone? What if someone was really in trouble?" I asked him after I analyze the situation. Agreed, at first, I was scared and didn't think rationally. However, now as I thought about the absurdity of it, I started wondering if anyone was in trouble there. I heard the shriek of a girl.

"No one was in trouble. That sound came from that guy's mobile. Either he played that or it was his ringtone. And, I saw constable rushing there when we were leaving," Eshan answered.

"Oh." I sank into my seat. It was a good thing that someone went there.

I watched as our house came into the view. We reached so soon.

"I'm going to wash up," I announced once he parked the car.

"Wait," Eshan called out as he held my wrist when I was about to get down. My hand on the door handle tightened unknowingly as I half turned my body to face him.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He raised his left eyebrow. I wondered how effortlessly he managed to do so. It made him look so handsome that I found my heart accelerating.

"What?"

"This."

Eshan's fingers curled around my wrist as he slowly pulled me and my body obeyed without any protest. I did not understand what he wanted to do, but when he moved his upper half and in the midway he took me by the surprise. His warm lips found their way as his other hand went behind my neck to support my head.

Before I could realize what was happening, Eshan's lips had made their way. The fuzzy feeling started growing in my chest as he took his sweet time.

With every caress of his soft lips, with every stroke of his warm tongue, my mind was eventually shutting down other thoughts. His fingers cupped my neck as he pulled my head closer. It was as if he couldn't get enough.

However, I was surprised when the slow strokes turned into little aggressive nips. There was a strange kind of desperation in his actions. My wide eyes could see it in his dark ones.

The need for oxygen grew but Eshan didn't seem to be noticing it.

***

I looked at the sleeping face of my husband. Tonight, he seemed troubled. My fingers went to the spot on his lower lip where I had unwillingly bit. I had no option than to do it when in the car he didn't realize that I was getting breathless.

I had tried to push at his shoulders, but he seemed to be taking the action as my refusal. Normally, he wouldn't have pushed the things so far, but unknowingly it was not the case. He didn't realize it and went ahead. Passion was one thing, and desperation was another.

He appeared desperate. Desperation is driven by fear. It's the fear that guides you. There's a need to seek the assurance in desperation which doesn't get satiated easily.

He tried seeking something from our intimacy. It wasn't a physical need, and I was sure of it. As a woman, I knew to differentiate between the touch. His actions screamed his need for assurance of some sort. I couldn't figure out what it was.

Something wasn't right. I could sense it. We're alright when we left the hospital, but something changed after that call and the little incident at the beach.

I hadn't noticed it then. The moment he lost his self-control in the car, I knew something was not right. His eyes told it. However, I did not ask him.

If I expected time from him to express myself, then how could I force him for answers? I could not.

I looked down at how he was holding me in his sleep. Didn't we hold the soft toys in our grasp tightly when we feel insecure about something? His hold resembled his insecurities.

His right hand that was thrown across my abdomen clutched my waist. I felt his fingers digging in my skin through my clothes. He mumbled something. Something that I couldn't hear, despite my ear being imminent to his lips. He turned on his side, pulling me impossibly closer.

I wondered if he was having any nightmare or were it his worries clouding his mind in his sleep. I brought my left hand to his head and ran my fingers through his hair. Ignoring the pain his fingers were causing to my waist, I caressed the side of his face with my left hand.

'What's wrong Eshan?' I thought inwardly as I patted him like a child. He grumbled something again before his head moved and rested on my chest. My hands froze when it happened, and my body turned stiff.

Calming down myself, when I noticed he was still asleep, I slowly relaxed. I brought my hand back in his hair and continued caressing his hair.

Maybe, my caressing worked or the position helped, but Eshan's agitated features slowly relaxed. However, his hold didn't slack. I dropped a kiss on his hair lightly, not wishing to disturb him.

Maybe, tomorrow I would know what was wrong.

***