Page 17 of Substitute Bride

FIRST DAY

Vikrant had slept in an adjacent room. He was utterly exhausted, so he fell asleep quickly.

As soon as he woke up in the morning, he prepared to bathe, as per his usual habit.

However, a sudden realization struck him: he wasn’t in his room but rather in another one.

That thought prompted him to return immediately to his original room, where he began a thorough inspection.

Jhankar was still fast asleep. On the bed lay a laptop and several open books.

He deduced that after his departure, she had either been reading or working late into the night.

To confirm this, he checked whether the laptop screen was still active.

The moment he touched it, the last-used screen lit up.

He began inspecting the device, and, naturally, his eyes wandered back to Jhankar.

From the looks of it, she had been deeply engrossed in something important.

He took a deep breath and was about to leave when he noticed a faint bruise on her wrist. He instantly recognized it from when he had gripped her wrist too tightly the previous day.

He knew exactly how it had happened. He had never dealt with women before and hadn't realized that his strength could leave such a mark.

Choosing to ignore the guilt and the growing unease, he headed for the bathroom.

Vikrant was very particular about his routine, he didn’t tolerate negligence.

He believed that even a minor delay in one task could cause a domino effect, throwing his entire day into chaos.

After a quick shower, he changed into his gym attire and prepared to leave.

However, his eyes once again fell on Jhankar, still fast asleep amid a scattered mess of books and the open laptop.

He disliked disorder, especially around him. It disrupted his mental rhythm. He paused, walked over to the bed, shut down the laptop, arranged the books neatly, and adjusted the duvet carefully, tucking her in. After a final glance to ensure everything was in place, he left for the gym.

Jhankar had stayed up until 3:00 a.m., so she was still deeply asleep. When Vikrant returned from the gym, a maid approached him cautiously and spoke in a hushed tone.

“Sir, Sharda Maa said that today Madam has to make some sweets in the kitchen… Can we go to your room?”

Judging by the maid’s careful demeanor and his earlier visit to the room, Vikrant surmised that Jhankar was still asleep. He recalled seeing her searching for job vacancies at 2:30 a.m. Her exhaustion was understandable.

“Whatever it is, I’ll tell her. She’ll come to the kitchen in a while,” he replied coolly.

“Okay, sir…”

As he entered the room, he noticed that the bed was empty. He exhaled sharply—he wasn’t sure how he would’ve woken her up if she had still been sleeping. His eyes then landed on her standing in front of the closet… wearing his bathrobe.

“You’re wearing my bathrobe,” he said flatly.

Jhankar suddenly turned, her damp hair cascading over her cheeks with the sudden motion.

She had clearly just bathed. Vikrant instinctively averted his gaze, caught off guard by her unbothered confidence.

But she ignored him entirely and returned to sifting through clothes in the closet.

Vikrant hated being ignored. It always triggered a reaction in him.

He walked closer, attempting to control his irritation, and asking in a tense voice,

“What’s your problem?”

“I don’t know what to wear,” she replied without facing him.

“Last night, your mother said I should wear a saree. But I’ve never worn one before.

The blouse is hard to pin, probably because it’s loose.

Your runaway bride must’ve been a little on the heavier side.

I mean, obviously, you didn’t plan to kidnap someone else for this wedding.

My teachers always emphasized preparation, and here we are… ”

Vikrant had only asked because he couldn’t tolerate being ignored. But she was now rambling about something entirely different. He dismissed her words and, staring at his robe on her, snapped:

“I don’t like anyone touching my things.”

Jhankar turned her head slightly and replied sharply.

“And what about me? You kidnapped me, stormed into my life, and forced me into this marriage, and now you expect obedience? Do I look like a fool to you?”

Vikrant realized this girl wouldn’t yield easily. Anger flared in his eyes. He raised his finger to warn her, only for Jhankar to immediately catch his finger in her grip and lower it, staring at him squarely.

“Yesterday, while talking to your mother, I realized how deeply she loves you,” she said calmly. “Shall I create a scene in front of her about your little kidnapping act? I heard she’s a heart patient.”

The moment her words sank in, Vikrant's expression changed. In a flash, he grabbed her neck and pinned her against the wall, his eyes burning with rage.

“Control your tongue,” he hissed.

But Jhankar, unfazed, wrenched his hand away from her neck and shoved him back with surprising force, causing him to stagger. As he glared at her in disbelief, she smiled.

“I’m not interested in you or this fake marriage drama.

But your mother’s well-being depends on it, so I’m willing to play my part…

for now. As long as her condition demands stability, I’ll be the perfect daughter-in-law.

I know what parents mean. I love my family, I love my brother, and I understand your love for your mother.

I’ll tolerate this for a few days or months, if needed, but not forever. Don’t mistake me for a weak girl.”

Her voice held quiet authority, and her tone made one thing absolutely clear: she wasn’t afraid of him.

“I know a marriage like this involves many rituals,” she continued. “Right now, I have to go downstairs. But I don’t know how to wear a saree. Send someone to help me.”

Vikrant stood frozen. He couldn’t believe this girl was speaking to him like this.

She defied every rule of submission, every expectation of meekness.

But more than anger, it was helplessness that gripped him.

He couldn’t retaliate. Any trouble he caused her would inevitably affect Sharda.

Fuming, he stormed out of the room, suppressing his fury, and shouted at the top of his voice down the hall:

“Radha … Radha.”

Radha quickly makes her way upstairs. Vikrant sees her and immediately instructs her with a clipped tone.

“She needs help... Go inside immediately.”

Vikrant tries to rein in his fury, but something about this morning feels unlike anything he’s experienced before, completely out of his control.

Radha rushes into the room, and Vikrant turns away, descending the stairs.

He heads straight for Sharda’s room; calming his anger is crucial, and he knows that nothing steadies him faster than seeing her face.

As he enters, he finds Sharda sitting quietly, a faint smile blooming on her lips as she notices him.

“Today is Jhankar’s first kitchen ritual. She has to prepare something sweet. Are you ready to taste something new?” she asks warmly.

It’s the first time since her return from the hospital that she’s spoken to him with such lightness. Her smile softens something inside him, instantly dissolving his rage. He walks up to her, gently takes her hands in his, and says in a low, affectionate voice,

“She didn’t know how to wear a saree, so I sent Radha to help. She’ll come dressed just as you wanted.”

Sharda smiles and caresses his head, her eyes filled with tender wisdom.

“You know, I read somewhere that if a husband learns to enjoy his wife’s childish behavior, her temper, and her stubbornness, her smile and youth will remain with her forever. Such a wife is truly blessed.”

Vikrant’s smile falters ever so slightly. Her words are simple, but he senses a deeper message hidden within them. As he gazes at her, she continues, her eyes searching for him.

“I know you’re maintaining this marriage for my sake…

but I still expect you to be a good husband.

There’s so much love for you in this heart, and I don’t want that love to ever fade.

I hope that whatever expectations I’ve placed on you, you’ll fulfill them in your own way.

I don’t know how you’ll fix what started off as a joke.

.. but you can fix it. That choice lies with you. ”

Vikrant looks at her with renewed seriousness.

Her words pierce through him, and he realizes that when he’d angrily called for Radha, Sharda must have sensed his unrest; she always knew his moods better than anyone.

He tightens his grip on her hand and kisses it gently, then looks at her with a small smile.

“Maa, don’t cloud your mind or weaken your health by thinking of unnecessary things. You don’t need to worry about whether this marriage will work or not. I just want to see you healthy again, like before.”

“You still haven’t answered what I asked. How can you expect me to recover if I’m uncertain about your future?”

Vikrant meets her gaze and senses the disappointment beneath her calm exterior. He knows she’s hurt by the way this marriage was orchestrated. Perhaps she still holds hope that it will grow into something meaningful. For her sake, he’s willing to lie.

“Alright,” he says quietly, “as you wish... I’ll try my best to make this marriage work smoothly.”

Sharda’s expression softens, but she pushes gently once more.

“And to understand Jhankar...?”

The mention of her name instantly conjures a parade of chaotic memories: her stubbornness, her sharp tongue, and her unpredictable defiance.

Yet even through that mental whirlwind, Vikrant gives a small, reluctant nod.

The happiness that lights up Sharda’s face is immediate and radiant.

Without another word, she pulls him into an embrace.

It’s a gesture he’s been craving for so long that he clings to her like a child.

For a moment, all his armor falls away. Sharda smiles faintly, resting her hand on his back, and silently prepares herself for the days ahead.

~~~~

Jhankar has neatly arranged small bowls of pudding on a tray. Ravindra sits silently nearby, too overwhelmed to speak. Sharda watches her with a gentle smile. Jhankar glances at her and, with extreme care, places the smallest portion in front of her.

“The doctor has restricted your diet, but it is an offering, so I brought just a little specially for you,” she says softly.

Sharda’s eyes brighten instantly. The warmth in her smile speaks volumes.

Without any words, Jhankar serves a bowl to Ravindra as well.

Then, with a wide grin, she turns to Vikrant, sets his bowl before him, and takes her seat beside him with her own.

Sharda tastes a spoonful, then looks at Jhankar with clear approval.

Ravindra finishes his quickly and, with rare enthusiasm, addresses a nearby staff member.

“Can I have some more?”

Jhankar smiles quietly, eating her portion while sneaking glances at Vikrant.

He hadn’t touched his yet. Everyone knows he doesn’t have a sweet tooth.

But the dish was the first thing his "wife" had made.

Obligation outweighs preference. After finishing his breakfast, he reluctantly picks up the bowl and takes a bite.

The moment the pudding touches his tongue, he stiffens and shoots a look at Jhankar, who is now trying hard to suppress her laughter behind her spoon. When she finishes her bowl, she leans in slightly and whispers with a teasing smile,

“What happened, Viku ? The pudding’s not good?”