Chapter 13: Collision

Khushi

The next morning, Khushi glanced at the clock as she folded her blanket. She'd managed to haggle Arnav-ji down from giving up his bed to an arrangement that involved them switching between the sofa and the bed every few nights. He'd still insisted on sleeping on the sofa first.

Hai Devi Maiyya, he's taking so long! Bua-ji will be here soon.

She moved his blanket and pillow from the sofa to the bed, fiddling with everything until it looked perfect. Then she paced the length of the room while she fretted, biting her nails, and rushed to the bathroom as the door opened.

"Arnav-ji you took so lo—"

Somehow they collided, his hands automatically finding her waist, and it was only when Khushi caught her breath that she realised he wasn't wearing a shirt.

Oh.

Her pulse roared in her ears. Her hands trembled as she tried to avoid touching his still-damp skin. When she gathered the courage to look at him, Khushi saw that he was watching her intently, and she drowned in his eyes until he shook his head to deliberately sprinkle water all over her. She blinked in surprise, hyperaware of the way his body moved as he gave a small chuckle.

Heat spread like wildfire in her veins.

She was still breathing too hard when he released her, allowing her to scamper into the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror.

Oh, Devi Maiyya, what's he doing to me?

Thankfully, Arnav-ji had disappeared when she finished in the bathroom sometime later. She stood next to the poolside doors and rubbed a towel over her hair, clad in the pink sari that Anjali-ji had lent her the night before, but froze when she noticed the two large bags on the bed. There was a note next to them.

"These are yours if you want them."

Inside, she found the clothes she'd picked out the day before, folded neatly. She pulled them out one by one, unable to contain a grin, and saw that they'd been altered. Pompoms hung from all their sleeves.

Blinking back tears, she hugged a dress to her chest as she muttered to herself, "I'll thank him as soon as I see him."

Folding the dress again, she made to return it to the bag when she realised there was something else inside. A red drawstring pouch, inside which she found a small golden pot filled with sindoor. An intense joy washed over her as she ran to the mirror and placed some in her hair with a trembling hand.

Khushi Kumari Gupta … Singh Raizada.

She packed the clothes away but left the sindoor under his mirror before bouncing downstairs to help her sister with breakfast.

"Jiji," Khushi spoke as she readied the tea, "You looked so beautiful yesterday."

"You looked beautiful too," Jiji smiled, "Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes. It will be so wonderful to see everyone again, won't it?"

Jiji paused in her cooking, "Khushi … you know that everyone is still very upset?"

Her tummy churned as melancholy hooked its claws into her again, "Yes, Jiji. But I'll make it better, I promise."

She didn't eat when the food was ready, choosing instead to loiter near Arnav-ji's seat and wait for him. He didn't appear, and her heart sank when she realised that he'd left the house without telling her yet again.

He doesn't have to tell you, she reminded herself.

But she wished he had all the same.

Pushing aside her sadness, Khushi ran to the door when a knock sounded to greet her aunt enthusiastically. But Bua-ji's smile faltered at the sight of her, sending heart dropping somewhere near her tummy again, so she hovered to the side as everyone exchanged pleasantries.

"Jiji," she whispered to her sister, "should I get the tea?"

"Yes, I'll sit with Bua-ji."

Mami-ji was standing in the middle of the sitting area when she returned with a tea tray.

"And this sample that you've left behind?" Mami-ji sneered in her direction, "What about her?"

Guilt gnawed at her insides as she saw how much the words hurt Bua-ji.

"Let's go, Payalia," Bua-ji turned to Nani-ji, "Namaste."

Khushi made to follow but paused when she realised that she didn't have her phone, "Bua-ji, I'll be back in two minutes!"

She ran, the pink fabric of her sari in her hands, and snatched up Babu-ji's phone from where she'd left it charging. Then she paused in front of the mirror to fix her pleats and brush her hair and smiled when Lakshmi-ji ambled into the room with a bleat.

"I'm visiting my family today," she knelt to cuddle the goat, "I'll make sure Amma, Babu-ji, and Bua-ji listen to me. Somehow, I'll win them over. Take care of Arnav-ji while I'm gone."

Giving her friend one last hug, Khushi hurried back downstairs, thinking of the scolding Bua-ji was sure to give her in the rickshaw for making them late.

"Bua-ji, I'm rea—"

Everyone in the sitting room turned to stare at her. Her grin slowly slipped away.

"You're ready?" Mami-ji's tone was scathing, "But your Bua-ji isn't. She said hello, hi, took Khoon Bhari Taang, and left with a bye-bye."

But Mami-ji's cutting remarks barely registered as Khushi tried to make sense of it, "Bua-ji … left … without me?"

"She didn't just leave," Mami-ji said gleefully, "she left your clothes."

As her eyes found the small bag stuffed with all her things, Khushi felt as though the last link to her childhood home had snapped. She sobbed, bereft of everything that she'd based her life on, and suddenly wanted to be alone. No one stopped her as she left.

It was only when she was at the poolside that she completely succumbed to her sorrow. She curled up on the ground, her knees against her chest, and tried to hide from the world.

She'd never felt so alone, so unwanted, so utterly lost.

"I thought your Bua-ji was taking you ho—" Arnav-ji arrived unannounced at the poolside, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Khushi brushed away her tears.

Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a knock, "Chhote? Khushi-ji?"

Khushi tried to wipe her face clean as Arnav-ji left her to help his sister over the threshold, "Di, how was your test? What did the doctor say?"

"Everything is fine," Anjali-ji brushed his concern away, "but that's not why I'm here. Chhote, I want you to take Khushi-ji home for the pagphere ritual."

"Anjali-ji, I …" guilt swelled within her at Anjali-ji's concern.

It was my idea to get married like this. This is all my fault.

"Khushi-ji, don't you want you meet your family?" Anjali-ji asked, "Are you happy with these circumstances?"

Then she turned to her brother, "Chhote, these rituals and customs mean a lot to me. They must be completed."

"I'll drop Khushi to her house," Arnav-ji said quickly, "Please just relax."

The car ride was silent and awkward, utterly different from yesterday's trip to the café. He turned to her a few times, looking as though he wanted to say something, but turned back to the road without a word each time. It was as if all the moments they'd shared had disappeared with the reminder of their elopement and the people they'd hurt. And why they'd had to hurt them.

Struggling with their silence, Khushi tried to thank him for the clothes and the offer to drive her but the words kept getting lost on the way to her mouth. She watched her husband drive instead, wondering what was going through his mind and whether they'd ever get back what they'd once had.

Will he ever look at me as he had on the day of Jiji's mehendi?

Will he ever touch me as he once had on stage?

Will he ever kiss me again?

Suddenly the man who'd smirked while showering her with droplets of water seemed so far away that she may as well have dreamt him up.

"Khushi, we're here."

She startled out of her thoughts and watched as he reached into the back for the bag of gifts Nani-ji had sent along. She fiddled with the door handle after he unbuckled her seatbelt, reluctant to leave. Relief leapt in her heart when he spoke.

"Wait."

Arnav-ji handed her a brand new phone.

"Leave that phone at home," he muttered, "and keep this with you. My number is already on it."

Khushi between him and the phone, "You didn't have —"

"—I did have to," he spoke gently, "I broke your phone."

The memory of the way he'd thrown it onto the floor of the storeroom slammed into her. And with it, an idea.

"If you came inside," she ventured, "you could speak to Amma and Bua-ji about … about …what happened …"

She trailed off uncertainly, watching his eyes darken and his fingers curl into a fist. He spoke after a long silence.

"Call me if you need anything."

The dismissal was clear. Khushi slid out of the car, clutching the gifts in her hands, and gave a small wave as he drove away.

Perditrix: You're simply the best. I loved how Arnav kinda defended Khushi. I'm super excited for the next chapters

Thank you very much, you're much too kind *blushes a lot*