A Month ago, Moonlight Villa

First morning of Heer and Veer as a couple

Veer Heer Singh POV

With a sudden movement, she sits on my lap, both her legs dangling on one side, “Kya hum ase aapki godi mein baith sakte hai.”

(Can I sit like this in your lap?)

I was smiling like a fool listening to her question, “Haan Jaruur.”

Wo humne phehli baar shadi ki hai na toh hume pta nhi hai, hum kya-kya kar skte hai or kya kya nhi.”

(Can I sit like this in your lap. Actually, I married first time, so I don’t know what I can or cannot do.)

Thank God her legs are on one side, otherwise…

I took a little back with her sudden action, but a smile came on my lips, here we go for the first question section after marriage. “Kitni shadi karni thi aapko, Mrs. Veer Singh?”

(How many weddings do you want, Mrs. Veer Singh?)

Heer gave me a puzzled look, then she spoke, “Hum kitni shaddi kar skte hai?” 

(How many weddings can I do?)

I can feel the pressure in my lower body. I leaned a little just near her ears, “Sorry to inform you, my dear wife, in this life you can marry once. With due respect, I want to inform you that you already used that one-time chance; now you can’t have any more husbands. Please manage with your one and only husband, Veer Singh.”

She started laughing loudly, seeing her smiling like this, I felt a surge of warmth in my body. “Ab next question,” she said, and I hummed.

She leaned toward my cheeks and kissed my cheeks. My eyes widen in shock. Is my innocent wife not so innocent?

“Aapko acha nhi laga humara kiss. Par Shinchain ko jab koi kiss karta hai toh wo nachne lagta hai. Hume laga aap bhi khush ho jayege or nachege.”

(You didn’t like my kiss. But when Shinchain got a kiss from someone, he started dancing. I thought you would be happy and start dancing.)

What reply I gave her, she is so innocent. “I like it a lot.” 

Her smile mirrors her happiness, “Thik hai ab se roj aapko kiss karege. Ek kiss bohat rahega naa?”

(Okay, I will kiss you daily. One kiss will be enough?)

I was so overwhelmed with her actions that I forgot to reply, and she was staring at my face without blinking. I want to become a little selfish here, so “Two kisses, one when I go to the hospital and the second when I come back from the hospital.”

Her cheeks turned red with my reply, and sudden shyness washed over her. But then she looked in my eyes, “Thik hai, two kisses with a hug. Aap toh phele hi bhoat bar hume hug kar chuke hai.”

(You already hugged me a few times.)

Saying this, she turned her face away from my side. After doing all this, she is feeling shy. I don’t want her to feel this shy of me. “Next Question, Heer?”

She tries to compose herself with a deep breath, “Aur kaha-kaha kiss kar skte hai hum aapko?” This kiss list seems pretty long; let’s pause this with one answer.

(Where-where I can kiss you?)

“Jaha aapka dil kare, Mein pura ka pura apka hu, aap har jagah kiss kar skti hai,” I said, and she gave me a narrowed eye look. Then she touched my forehead, “yaha?” I nodded. Then her finger landed on my eyes, “yaha?” 

(Wherever you like, I’m completely yours. You can kiss me everywhere.)

After that, she paused, and I thank god for this. “Aapko pta hai, hume beard pasand nhi hai.” Her finger landed on my cheek with a soft touch, “aapki toh hai bhi nhi, isliye hume aap pasand hai.”

(You know? I don’t like a beard.)

(You don’t have one, that’s why I like you.)

Did my wife say he likes me? 

Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

My heart stopped for a moment, and the next moment was pounding against my body. All blood rushed to my neck. I was so lost then. I married her because of a promise, and here on our first day, she is saying she likes me. Her simple words make me love her more and more. I stopped myself. She will make the first move in our relationship, that’s the only way.

Then I noticed her face changed, “What happened, Heriye?” 

“I’m missing Nina (her maternal grandmother) every morning I used to lie in her lap, but…” before she could complete. I got up with her in my arms. I made her sit on the bed and sit beside her. I tapped on my thigh, and with a smile, she lay her head in my lap. “Aap bas bataiye aapko kya karna hai, hum sab karne ko tyar hai.”

(You tell me what you want, and I am ready to do everything.)

I started moving my hand on her head, “Tell me one thing, Heer, will you be fine alone, because I have to go hospital. You can call me anytime, and there are other family members too. Would you like to meet them?” She didn’t say anything, then I saw she had fallen asleep. All calm and peaceful.

I gently put a pillow under her head and a blanket over her. I also drew the blackout curtain. Then I went into the glass room, not before placing a kiss on her forehead. I saw Bebo was also sleeping. I chucked at the thought “my both bachee were sleeping.”

Reaching near the dining area, I saw that everyone was waiting for me. I go near them, stand there, and everyone's eyes settle on me. “My wife is sleeping upstairs, and I don’t want anyone to make her uncomfortable with their words and especially with expressions.” I turned to leave, then stopped without turning my head towards them, “I forgot to tell you, her name is Heer Veer Singh. I hope you all will be nice to her. We both already had our breakfast, hope you all enjoy your food.” Without any other words, I entered in lift to reach our floor where my Heriye was sleeping.

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Present time

Viraj Janaat Singh POV:

I heard the door open sound and tilted my head upstairs, and my eyes met with two familiar deep green eyes. Her face is a little red, and her skin is glowing like a baby's. She dolled up in a check dress. The light blue and white gingham gives a fresh, Vintage feel. The full, A-line skirt with pockets and a fitted bodice with button-like detailing and wide straps. Her hair was loose and straight. She must have used Straightener. 

She is looking really heavenly. My heaven.

(Janaat’s dress)

Suddenly, there wasn’t enough air for me to breathe, and my throat dried. This is a weird sensation that is new to me. With steps, she is coming towards my chest, tightening more and more.

“Can you zip up…” she said with focused eyes.

Zip up?

Me?

Of course, you have offered help earlier. 

I took one step to go near her, but she remained rooted. Then she gestures with her finger upstairs, “Can you please zip up my suitcase? I might have overpacked, and the zipper is troubling me.”

“Idiot, fucking stop behaving like a teenager,” I muttered under my breath. Passing by her, I climb the stairs for fucking zip up her suitcase. I take the suitcase out of her room and see her holding two pizza boxes, which she was putting on the dinner table. 

I can’t help but notice her attempt to avoid eye contact with me. I can’t hold my smirk anymore, and she pouts. That chest-tightening feeling crawls back in me. 

“I was hungry, so...” she said with nervousness. I am also an idiot; a small bowl of khichdi can’t fill your stomach for a long time. I nod and slowly walk towards her. 

“Hmm, I don’t know about your taste, so I ordered paneer and veg-loaded pizzas. I hope that’s okay with you,” she said, putting two plates on the table.

She is really into junk food. In the future, making her eat healthy food is going to be challenging for me for sure.

She looked up at me with her dark green eyes, and the next moment I was sitting on a chair that was in front of her. Face-to-face. She took one slice from both pizzas and put them on a plate. Next was the sauce. Lots of sauce in the corner of the plate. Dip the edge of the slice in the sauce and take a big bite of that. The next bite was from another slice. “Mmuummm.” 

She’s absolutely savoring every bite, her face lighting up with pleasure.

A slight smile appeared on my lips, and I pushed that back before she noticed it. She is looking like a baby.“Paneer one’s is more tasty, you should try that first,” she said, sliding the pizza box.

I slide that box again to her side, “You eat that, I’ll eat the veg pizza.” If she likes that one, then she doesn’t have to share with anyone. When she looked up, her smile flickered through me first—warmth blooming in the space between heartbeats. She nodded happily and started eating again.

Seeing her eating like this is my favorite view nowadays. I was watching her like a creep, and it’s becoming more difficult for me to control my smile. I imagined those lips on me. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her curls bothering her. I just savor this moment, not to rush, just seeing how her lips touch each other when she is chewing.

Her overloaded cuteness is dangerous.

After 10 minutes, she slid the plate with the cornicione and half-eaten slice of veg pizza. And without delaying, I ate her leftover from her plate. I really want to talk to her about why she drinks. But she was already accepting her mistake. Also, she formed that tiny pout, so I don’t scold her. She is going to live with me, so I can change her bad habits. I’ll make sure she eats healthy food and juices. 

Teenagers these days drink just to show off their money. The money was gotten from their parents. My heaven is not like theirs; maybe her company is bad. I am sure that the brown-haired girl made her drink; my sensitive wife can’t deny her. 

Getting up from the table, I put the boxes in the dustbin. I stand by the sink, the kitchen quiet, my hands moving with practiced ease. The two plates carry the marks of our first meal that we shared. 

Tonight, the air feels different—not louder, just closer, as if the air is listening. The kitchen clock ticks, a steady metronome. I notice how her wrist lifts the pizza box as if it were something precious to her. This makes my chest tighten with affection. Her first bite was like a confession and that foodgasam sound. 

Did she make that sound every time she ate? 

I want these moments thousand ordinary evenings, to taste the kind of happiness. The pizza becomes a tiny and delicious reason to share our time. She smiled between the bites as they were joking and she was listening. “If you are ready, then shall we leave?”

“Yeah, just give me two minutes, I’ll pick up my backpack and phone from upstairs,” saying that she ran from there. She really likes to run.  I was waiting for her to come out, and I saw her. She is wearing white matching heels with a dress. Backpack in one hand and phone in the other. She also applied pink color to her lips. 

She is obsessed with lip products; her bedside drawer is proof of that.

“Wait, my…” I saw where she was indicating with her finger, and I know she wants that to go with her. I nodded and held the car door for her, but instead of getting in, she started looking at me, and her face flushed. “Did she blush? Did I make her blush?” Seeing her blush, my lips curve into a smile. Closing the door from her side, I move to the driving side and sit.

She was already tying the seat belt. Missed opportunity. 

“Before you meet your new family, I want to tell you about Heer bhabhi. She is special and an introvert, especially with new people, but if she likes you, then open up to you. I hope you will be kind to her.” I said.

She turned to face me, “Will she like me?” 

“Yes! You already did something; she will not just like but adore you.” I replied. Also, buckle up and start our drive towards the mansion. I hope she likes it there. I’m sure all the family members will make her comfortable. They have no other option. I want her to feel free there. Also, Heer Bhabhi will get a new company. I have a feeling both are going to get along with each other. 

Janaat Viraj Singh POV:

My heart is beating like a drum. Relax, it’s just a four-day stay. Dad will never lie to me. My neck was turned to the window, opposite to him. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t find the courage to see him. 

Gosh, He is so handsome and has long legs, a bonus is age, because I’m into older guys. He must be five years older than me. Do I have any issues with that? Absolutely not, when a man is that handsome, and age is just a number.

My chest was tightening as the car was moving ahead. My hands are sweating, and I'm constantly rubbing my thigh just to get the wetness away.

But again, a question came to my mind.

What if he is being fake? All this affection is just for the show?

What if ye red flag nikala? 

What if he married me for any kind of revenge?

What if he kidnapped me? 

What if he is lying that we are going to his house?

If he has a history of deception? I mean..

What if he were married and had a kid? Worst. 

What if his family didn’t let me in the house? Good for me, I’ll come back and live in my room. Ordering lots of sandwiches. Also, I can watch him on TV. I am a strong, independent woman who can live alone. My head is wandering around, and suddenly I remember a conversation with my Mom.

Flashback

“Mom, why do you wear that wedding necklace? It is old, you should change that.” I was 15 years old at that time. I was sitting on the bed, where Mom was getting ready in the mirror.

Mom smiled, “It’s called mangalsutra, in English we call it nuptial chain. It’s in a lifetime chain, like our ID. You know this chain is a symbol of your Dad.”

“How?”

“See, this chain means we are both together. This chain indicated that we belonged to our husband and our husband belongs to us,” understood Jaan. 

“Hmm, but Dad doesn’t wear any chain, he should also wear that, why only you wear something that belonged to him?” I asked.

“See, in Christianity, married people wear a ring, and your Dad always wears his ring. So in your dad's religion, wives wear a nuptial chain. That’s like we both wear each other's symbols on us. So basically, when you marry then you will also wear this chain.” 

“Any other doubt, my jaan has?”

I smiled, “Mom, when I’m married, then I’ll wear both rings plus a chain, and also I’ll make sure my husband wears both as well. Equal-equal, you know.”

Mom chuckled at my idea, “I wish you would get a man like that who wears both. But more than that, he should take care of you, love you as your dad loves me.” With that, Mom put on lipstick and turned to me.

I stand and, with puppy eyes, “So now I’m 15 years old, can I use lipstick now?” 

“You should wait for three more years. On your eighteenth birthday, I’ll gift you the best lipstick collection. Till then, use only lip gloss, my adorable little Jaan.” With that, she pulled my cheek and gave a kiss.

“No, nahh, stop pulling my cheek, on my eighteen birthday I’ll take all your lipstick and your collection will be mine,” I said.

“Time will tell, now get ready for school, otherwise we both will get scolded by your Dad, and now let me see if my little boy chiku pooped yet or not.” Mom said, raising her eyebrows.

Scrunching my nose, I said, “Eww, Mom, seriously?” 

“Nothing to be eww here, he is a little boy who needs help. Go get ready now, before we get late.” Mom said and left the room.

“So, Mr. husband. Who are you? I don’t know yet, but you'd better wear both.” With that thought, I also started wearing my school dress.

Flashback ends

I let out a light chuckle, thinking how stupid I was. Here, I didn’t get any ring and chain that tells me I belong to him, and in the past, I used to think that I would make my husband wear both.

Sometimes reality slaps us on the face.

I stay silent, staring out the window. The stars were twinkling in the sky, and my moonie is following us throughout the way. But after eating, I’m still feeling a little drained, maybe because of drinks. I don’t have any energy to think, and now I don’t know what to think.

The car slowed down, telling me we are near, and with that, my stress level peaked. Within seconds, we entered a big mansion. He unfastened his belt and opened the door on my side. I was so nervous that I didn’t notice his extended hand. With slow speed, I rested my finger on his palm. Keeping my eyes on the floor, I got out of the car. And start walking with him. Now I’m feeling all sorts of weirdness that can’t be expressed in words. I looked up to see him; he was already staring and smiling. 

Gosh, he has such a pretty smile, gentleman coded. 

The air seems too cold and tense. I stand here, overwhelmed by the contrast between what I’m gonna witness tonight. With each step, my heart is racing, and as usual, my head is behaving extra weird today. Then I notice there are a lot of light decorations on the way to the garden, to the main door. 

Instead, the house seems to exhale a louder breath, bathed in the lights, not a single corner where you can see darkness; everything is so lit up like a new bride. I read the villa name is MOONLIGHT VILLA, but now it’s shining like the sun. 

I am not complaining because I love lights. 

Was there any celebration?

Maybe this decoration is permanent. 

Before I surpassed my head, I thought words slipped from me, “Is it a daily occurrence, I mean this light and all decoration?”He stopped and turned toward me, still holding my hand, “Aaj khass hai, aaj es ghar ki choti bahu aai hai.”  His word lands like a coin tossed into a wall—a sound that seems to echo. 

(Today is special, today, the youngest daughter-in-law of this house has arrived.)

With that realization hit me, “Choti Bahu” means me. The term carries both warmth and belongingness. 

(Younger daughter-in-law)

My initial fear begins to fade as I processes the significance of the moment. The idea that I’m “the youngest daughter-in-law” becomes a doorway, not a label. Something shifts; the initial tremor is not here anymore. I feel the tension in my shoulders ease as if the house itself offers a soft invitation. The fear that clung to me is fading thread by thread. The fear doesn’t vanish all at once; it smooths into something softer. 

I inhale the air that feels warm, too, as this is something I should have visited earlier.  The warmth travels through me—not heat from a stove, but an interior warmth that feels almost like a home. “

“Come, everyone is waiting for you.” His words are soft and careful. Does everyone know that I’m coming? 

I haven’t entered yet, and still I can feel a sense of safety and belonging that can be claimed in the heart first, before any physical step is taken. And the man standing beside me, who speaks the first, small, honest acknowledgment as he wants to say, “welcome to your new family. As a Choti bahu.” 

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Guys, I don’t want to write a typical indian marriage story with rituals. I think it gets so boring, all the books have those same tracks with the first rasoi, pagphera, and so on. 

So I’m skipping them all. I feel bored writing them; I’m sure you all are bored with the same storyline.