Chapter 11: Clothes

Khushi

"What's this?" Mami-ji taunted, "Are you still wearing Anjali-bitiya's sari? Your Bua-ji still hasn't sent your clothes?"

Khushi looked down at the floor, her cheeks heating with humiliation. She'd ventured downstairs in the hopes of asking her sister for a change of clothes and found Mami-ji and Anjali-ji instead. Her shoulder ached, a reminder of the uncomfortable night she'd spent at the poolside, but she tried to ignore it as Mami-ji continued.

"Maybe we should lock her up, hello, hi, bye-bye. How will we explain her presence to the guests today? Maybe we should say that the priest had a special offer for Holi: pay for one wedding and get a second one for phree!"

Sourness churned in Khushi's tummy as Anjali-ji stood, "Khushi-ji, I'll bring clothes for the Muhn-Dekhayi ceremony to your room."

She returned upstairs with a heavy heart, a part of her glad that Arnav-ji had left before she'd woken that morning. She folded her blanket and pillow, stowing them away in the wardrobe, and ran to the door at Anjali-ji's knock.

"Wear these, and wait for me to get you," her sister-in-law instructed, handing her a bundle of clothes and some jewellery boxes, "Hari Prakash-ji will come for the sari."

She started to leave, but then paused, "Chhote hasn't given you the bangles?"

"What bangles?" Khushi shook her head in confusion.

"Never mind," Anjali-ji patted her arm, "I'll speak to him."

She changed in the bathroom and rushed to hand the sari to Hari Prakash-ji when he arrived. The borrowed clothes were too tight in some places, too loose in others, and itched like nothing else.

"Such annoying clothes," she huffed as she reached behind to tie her dori, "I'd rather …"

But then she recalled exactly why she needed to borrow clothes in the first place, "Oh no, these clothes are just fine."

Turning, she spied her payal on the floor and bent to retrieve it. The fabric of the blouse ripped.

"Hai Devi Maiyya!"

Khushi inspected the damage in the mirror and gasped in dismay when she realised the sleeve was hanging by a few scant threads. Quickly crossing the room, she used the landline to call downstairs and ask one of the servants to bring her a needle and some thread.

But what will I wear in the meantime? she fretted, I've already returned the sari.

Her gaze caught on her husband's wardrobe.

Ten minutes later, after Om Prakash-ji had delivered sewing supplies to the room, Khushi rushed to the wardrobe to fish out one of Arnav-ji's shirts. She glanced towards the door, hoping that he would remain missing for just a few minutes longer, and quickly replaced her blouse with it.

Then she sat cross-legged on his bed, working furiously to repair the damage. She yanked in frustration at the too-long sleeve of his white shirt when it annoyed her and have a horrified gasp as it ripped.

Oh, Devi Maiyya!

Footsteps sounded in the corridor. An all too familiar silhouette appeared at the doorway. Khushi launched herself off the bed and behind the poolside curtains just as Arnav-ji opened the door. She trembled, praying that he somehow hadn't seen her, and bit the ruined sleeve of his shirt as his footsteps approached.

He flung the curtains away in one smooth motion, anger etched into his features.

"What the—"

Khushi stared up at him. He stood frozen, his eyes travelling up and down her form as she shook. Then closed his eyes tightly, and when he opened them, all his rage seemed to have disappeared as if she'd imagined it.

"Are you going to wear this today?"

Khushi shook her head, bewildered. His eyes warmed and his lips tilted into a half-smile. Her pulse skittered.

"You don't even know how to wear a shirt," her husband teased.

She pressed her eyes closed when he reached towards her, only to open them again when she felt him fiddling with the shirt's collar. He fixed it with gentle fingers.

"Now it's okay," he announced when he was done.

She blinked, incapable of offering resistance as he guided her to the green sofa.

"I have to give you something," he knelt in front of her.

Arnav-ji produced a gold bangle from a box and reached for her wrist. His smile disappeared when he noticed the ripped sleeve, now adorned with lipstick marks. Swallowing hard, Khushi nervously tried to rub it away but he stopped the motion of her hands, his fingers gentle on hers as his smile became forced.

"You're so crazy," he took her hand again, "Did you rip my shirt?"

Khushi trembled, shaking her head, and watched as he pursed his lips before smiling. This time, the expression seemed genuine, matching the warmth of amusement in his eyes.

"It's okay."

"Huh?" it seemed that her ability to speak had flown away.

"Yeah!"

Khushi's pulse hammered as he slid the bangle onto her wrist, his fingers gentle and his smile growing ever wider. She snatched the second bangle out of his hand when he fished it out of the box, not understanding his sudden kindness but unable to trust it.

She stood and turned away from him, "I can do it myself."

But Arnav-ji stood as well. He placed both hands on her shoulders before pulling her so her back collided with his chest.

"We have an audience," he murmured against her ear, "Behave."

His heat seared into her, the fabric of the shirt she wore doing almost nothing to hide how warm he was. She struggled to draw air into her lungs as she trembled in his arms.

She drowned in him.

His familiar scent enveloped her and she knew that her hair would smell like him for the rest of the day.

He stepped away slightly. To anyone watching it would look like they were touching but Arnav-ji was careful not to touch her. He stood close, shifting with her as he pretended to run his hands up and down her arms.

She didn't know how long they stood there, her body wracked with tremors as his breath warmed her neck, but it was long enough to make her weak-kneed. And just when she thought that she couldn't take another second of the sweet torture, he leaned forward.

"Okay, she's gone."

But he didn't move away.

Afterwards, she wouldn't know whether she pressed into him or he leaned into her, but suddenly his hands were on her waist and his lips were on her neck and electricity filled her veins. His touch seared her. It was the briefest of moments, over before it really began, but she had to hold onto the sofa to keep from falling when he stepped away.

Immediately, she missed his warmth.

"Get ready and come downstairs," he spoke as if nothing had happened, "Most of the guests are here."

He paused at the threshold of the bedroom, "But it may be wise to change out of my shirt, Khushi Kumari Gupta."

Perditrix: This update made my day!

Thanks! Update days are my favourite!

CrazyChick114: Omg! I absolutely loved this chapter! I really liked the bandaging scene! Even the part where Khushi stood in front of Arnav. You know, during the show, I mostly saw Khushi's isolation and sadness, but even though your story is Khushi's POV, I can feel Arnav's pain too. Maybe because Khushi chose the marriage? Anyway, just wanted to say that you're an amazing writer and I absolutely love all your work!

Thank you very much! Awww, that makes me feel so special! I'm very glad that you've mentioned Arnav's pain - sometimes I think it's a difficult story because it's from Khushi's POV and readers tend to overlook what Arnav is going through. The interludes are intended to help but I feel I'm not doing a good job!

Joey: I am not sure I understand Khushi. I am sorry I have lost track of what happened earlier, am reading the story after a really long time and only the last two updates but I am not sure what Khushi got out of marrying Arnav. And I am not sure why she expects her foster parents and her jijii to understand or forgive when she is not willing to say anything, even in the serial. I get that she was indebted to the Guptas so chose to get married to Arnav rather than destroy her sister's marriage but once it was done, why would she not confide at least in her sister, has always been lost on me.

I think it might help you understand Khushi's frame of mind if you read it from the beginning again. I think she felt she couldn't confide in Payal for the same reasons Arnav never tells Aakash - it would cause more problems than it would fix and become a family issue, which would then impact Anjali's happiness and pregnancy. Plus, Khushi's not exactly the kind of person who says "Hi Jiji, I married Arnav-ji because he threatened to break up your marriage" - Khushi believes the situation is her fault because she didn't tell the truth earlier, and she wouldn't want Payal to blame herself for it.