Swati Sandeep- Familiar Stanger- Post Epilogue- Dhriti's Pregnancy

Dhriti stormed into the room looking annoyed. Dheer looked up from the laptop surprised she had not locked. Dhriti never did that. She was very particular about knocking and entering. She did not even step into Dhruv’s room without knocking. He was on an important Skype call, but seeing her mood he quickly disconnected the call. Her beautiful emerald eyes were sizzling in anger.

Dheer shut the laptop, held her hand and made her sit. Anger in her condition was not good. “What has the moron done now?” He came straight to the point and earned a hard whack for his efforts.

Dheer winced, Dhriti had a strong hand and pregnancy made her violent. He almost felt pity for Aman but quickly shrugged the sympathy away. His Jiju/moron did not deserve any sympathy he deserved much worse.

“Okay what did punjyaneya jijaji do?”

“He called me fat!” Dhriti hissed.

Dheer took a careful step back. He remembered how conscious his Bhabhi was when she felt pregnant with the twins. His Bhaiya could not say boo without her losing her cool. His Bhaiya was a gentle soul and still his Bhabhi was conscious about the weight she was putting on. Aman had some guts calling his sister fat.

“He called you fat?”

Dhriti nodded and then glared at him. “Do I look fat?”

Dheer took another step back. That was a trick question. He did not know how to answer. He needed a more experienced person to deal with Dhriti.

“You think I am fat?” those beautiful emerald eyes filled with tears.

"Of course not!” Dheer said quickly before she could let the tap loose. The girl who never cried turned into a fountain in pregnancy. “You look gorgeous in that black sweatshirt.” But it's a tad bit tight on you. He kept the last part wisely to himself.

Dhriti nodded her head as she grabbed a bunch of tissues and blew her nose. Dheer winced, but draped a gentle arm around her shoulder. “It’s not too late, di. Get a divorce. I will find you a prince charming. Shekawat does not deserve you.”

“What will we do with him then?” Dhriti pointed towards her baby bump.

“He is our champ! I can get rid of Shekhawat.”

Dhriti whacked him again. “Chup kar. (Be quiet!) I love Aman, but he is a moron. Why did I have to fall in love with him?”

“Divoce…….”

“Is not an option. Go beat some sense into him.”

Dheer’s eyes sparkled in delight. “Are you serious?”

Dhriti nodded but then shook her head again. She was sure her brother would take her word at face value. “Dhruv kahan hain? (Where is Dhruv?)”

“He took the twins for a ride. They were giving Bhabhi trouble all day. That is how an ideal husband behaves, Di. Shekhawat is a moron!”

Dhriti grabbed a pillow and whacked him hard. “Can you stop planning my divorce?”

Dheer smiled and shook his head. “Ek kaam karo, kuch din aap reh jao, yaahn. (Do one thing. Stay over for a few days.) That will drive some sense into him. How dare he call you fat. And get rid of the ugly shirt. I will buy you a new one.”

“Is shirt me kya problem hai? (What is the problem with this shirt?)” Dhriti’s eyes narrowed. Her husband said the same thing to her in the morning, and she blew a gasket. 

“It does not do you justice.” Dheer flashed a smile. “I have something better for you.”

“You do?” Dhriti gave him a disbelieving look. Nothing fit her anymore and she refused to wear cheesy maternity wear. Her bhabhi looked like a star in those maternity gowns, but they were just not for her. She preferred her jeans and tops.

Dheer nodded his head and made his way to his closet. He picked up a black sweatshirt, much like the one she was wearing a few days ago and never got a chance to wear it. She was a good five inches shorter than him but she had long hands and broad shoulders. His sweatshirt would be still over sized but it would be better than the one she was wearing, which did not look comfortable. He knew her ego would take a hit to go for two sizes larger. His bhabhi had been the same. He did not get the feeling, but a lady who carried a life has the right to her crazinessness. 

He grabbed the sweatshirt and gave it to her. “Pehenlo, aapka favourite brand hai. (Wear it, it’s your favourite brand.) This will look fab on you.”

The first thing Dhriti noticed was the color. Black was her all time favourite color. “Naye hai? (Is it new?)”

Dheer nodded his head. “Tags bhi nahi nekale. (I din’t even remove the tags.)”

“Toh tu he rakhle. (Then you keep it.)” She thrust the sweatshirt back in his hand and made her way to his closet. She was surprised that it was organized.

‘Dev?” She questioned without looking back.

“My savior.” Dheer smiled as he tossed the sweatshirt aside. “Aap chalo, shopping pe chaltey hai. (Let’s go shopping) I know this boutique, you will love it. We can….”

“Yeh wale rakhlun? (Can I keep this?)” She grabbed an olive green sweatshirt and showed it to him. 

“Are yeh maine bohot baar pehen le hai. (I wore this several times.) Let’s go shopping….”

“Dega ya Dhruv ke paas jao. Uske paas bhi same hai na? (Will you give it or shall I go to Dhruv? He has a similar one, right?” Dhiti’s eyes flashed with irritation. Pregnancy was playing havoc with her emotions.

“I used this.”

“What is your problem, Dheren? Kitne baar bolega ek he baat? Apne jiju ke tarah ban raha hai. Woh bhi ise tarah ek he baat repeat mode me bolta rehta hai. (How many times will you say the same thing? You're turning like your jiju. He keeps harping on the same thing.)He told me this top looked too tight on me. Can you believe it?”

“So he didn’t call you fat?” The question slipped from Dheer’s mouth.

“What do you think he meant by tight? Is this tight?”

Dheer nodded and then quickly shook his head. “He is crazy, di. Forget him. Go change and come.”

Dhriti walked into his washroom and closed the door. Dheer counted until ten before calling the moron who called himself Aman Shekhawat.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Shekhawat” Dheer hissed as soon as Aman answered the call.

“Jiju” Aman said as if he did not have a care in the world.

“Did you call di fat?” Dheer did not pay attention to it.

“Do you think she would let me live, if I did? You have a vixen for a sister, kiddo. She should have come with a disclaimer!”

Dheer smiled. He enjoyed Aman’s plight. He got the perfect wife. No one other than his sister could handle his twisted sense of humor.

“She did come with a disclaimer, Shekhawat. You were the one who acted blind. Now divorce her and be done with it. You don’t deserve her.”

“Keep dreaming, kiddo.” Aman huffed. “Now stop babbling and tell me where my lovely wife is?”

“She is with a divorce lawyer. Get ready to….” He trailed off as the phone was snatched from his hands. He did not realize when the said moron had sneaked on him.

“Didn’t they teach you to knock?” Annoyance flashed in Dheer’s eyes.

“Not when you are holding my wife hostage. Where is she?”

“She doesn’t want to meet you.” Dheer insisted.

“Is that why she texted me this?” Aman showed her the photo Dhriti shared. She looked gorgeous in Dheer’s olive green sweatshirt. Dheer’s eyes flickered to the washroom, it was still locked.

“Now get out. Let me pacify my angry wife.”

Dheer shook his head. An angry wife did not share pictures from the washroom. Aman Shekhawat did not deserve his sister. She did not even know how to stay mad. He would have to teach her that later, for now he stepped out leaving the moron to grovel. He knew Dhriti needed to hear from him how beautiful she was. Only a man could give confidence to his woman. 

Aaman was the biggest moron he had ever met, but he did love Dhriti. The silly bunch of daffoldes he was holding were proof enough. He came all the way to grovel, and that was something Dheer appreciated. A man who did not shy away from grovelling to his woman, would always keep her happy. And all Dheer wanted was for his sister to be happy. After all she went though she deserved to be happy!