Chapter 15: Confession

Khushi

"Tell me about Shyam Manohar Jha."

Arnav-ji's voice was tight with barely restrained fury.

Bua-ji sat down heavily on the couch.

Amma swayed and caught herself on the table. "You ... you know?" she whispered as she lowered herself into a dining chair.

"I know," Arnav-ji confirmed.

He strode to the dining table and settled into a chair, opposite Babu-ji.

"You must understand," Bua-ji directed her words at the floor, "We never meant ... We didn't know."

Khushi remained where she was, twisting her hands in the entryway. Her chest tightened with worry as her mother began to weep.

"He was in Lucknow. He saved Khushi from those ... those men," Bua-ji continued, "Then he was here."

"What men?"

Khushi trembled, suddenly unable to meet her husband's eyes. "M-men, in the marketplace. They recognised me from the vi-video. They said I should f-fall into their arms. That I should ... I should ..."

When she finally looked at him, using all of her courage, she found that he was staring at her in horror, "You never said ..."

It wasn't your fault, she told him silently, you couldn't have known.

"He arranged a job for me," Khushi continued, "at the AR warehouse here in Delhi, but I was sent to the headquarters because of a misunderstanding. Soon afterwards, he became a paying guest here."

"He said he didn't have a place to live, and we needed money," Bua-ji wiped her tears with her dupatta, "My pension ..."

Khushi's mind flipped to the memory of the first time she'd come home to find that Shyam-ji hadmoved in with them.

"Are you following me?" she'd joked.

She swayed on her feet, suddenly feeling sick. Arnav-ji leapt up from his seat and forced her into a chair. When he spoke, his voice was taut with rage.

"You allowed a strange man to live here, in this house with two unmarried women?"

"You don't understand," Bua-ji sobbed again, "He seemed so nice. He deceived us all."

"And then ..." he prompted.

"Then Shashi-babua got sick. We had two unmarried girls, the shop in Lucknow was closed, my pension was still stuck. Khushi ... she was working but it was barely enough to cover the medicine."

"He was suspicious of Shyam," Amma spoke quietly, "We should have listened."

"It seemed like fate," Bua-ji whispered, "the horoscopes, the sindoor, everything. And then ... then ..."

"You forced Khushi to agree to a marriage," Arnav-ji filled the silence.

Amma gasped, "No! We didn't force her. We ... she ..."

Khushi took a deep breath that turned into a sob. Arnav-ji's gaze seemed to burn through her.

I can't let Arnav-ji think that Amma and Bua-ji forced me.

But ... I can't let him think that I chose Shyam-ji either.

Thankfully, Arnav-ji didn't pursue that any further.

"When did you find out?" he asked instead.

"He came home one day and told us everything," Bua-ji answered, "He ... I don't know what he expected."

Khushi's voice trembled as she took up the story.

"I found out first. I broke the engagement that ... that day ... the Satyanarayn puja," understanding flared in Arnav-ji's eyes as she finished., "But he followed me out of the house and threatened my family. My Jiji."

"Payaliya was already engaged," Amma explained, "Her first marriage broke and we just wanted ... we just wanted this one to be ..."

"So you lied to my family, to my brother?"

"Anjali-bitiya, it would have destroyed her."

But Arnav-ji wasn't having any of Bua-ji's defence.

"Let us not pretend that my sister was your first concern," he said coldly, "In fact, let us not pretend that you were concerned about anyone but yourselves. Not even Khushi."

"We've always looked out for Khushi!" Amma protested.

"Oh yes, I've seen the way you look out for her. Where were you when Shyam was threatening her on the terrace? Where were you when he was touching her? Do you even know what you've been punishing her for these last few days? She came to me that night, begging me to protect her sister, and I did what I had to."

"She never ... never told ..." Bua-ji spluttered.

"Oh," Arnav-ji scoffed, "Sure."

"Arnav-ji, please," Khushi stood, "I need to speak to you. Alone."

His eyes burnt with anger when they met hers but he followed her into the bedroom she'd once shared with Jiji without question.

"I understand your anger," she began once the door was closed behind him, "but you cannot speak to my family like that."

"Khushi, they—"

"—No, nothing gives you the right to speak to my family in this way."

His eyes narrowed, "Nothing? How can you defend them? If what they say is true then they have been unimaginably cruel."

"If what they say is true?" she was aghast, "You still don't believe us?"

"Khushi, do you know how impossible this all sounds? Shyam met you in Lucknow, then stayed with your family as a paying guest, then somehow you were engaged? And all that time you didn't know that he was married to Di? You practically lived in Shantivan all those months."

"But it's the truth," Khushi cried, "Amma and Bua-ji told you! Why would they lie?"

"Payal is married to Aakash, she lives in the same house as that man! How could they allow that if they knew what he was? And how ... how could they keep it from us? All those days and nights they stood in my home, amongst my family, you all knew and didn't tell us?"

She froze, trying to see it from his point of view as he continued, "Did they think she'd be safe under the same roof as him after he'd threatened her safety and future? Or were they blinded by their greed?"

"Arnav-ji, it's what really happened. Look ... there will be something ... something in this room that will help me prove it."

"Fine," he ran a hand through his hair, "Fine. Show me."

Khushi searched frantically in her cupboards, "I promise, there's something ... there must be something ..."

He turned to the set of drawers, pulling them open and rummaging through while muttering to himself. Khushi busied herself in her almari, hoping against hope that there was something to show him. But she knew Shyam-ji had never signed any papers, had always paid in cash and had never even helped with Bua-ji's pension as he'd promised.

Oh Devi Maiyya, please, please, please help me.

"What the—"

Khushi turned to find that Arnav-ji had frozen at the drawers. He held something shiny.

"What the hell is this?!" he growled, thrusting it in her direction.

Hurrying over, she saw that it was a piece of purple gift wrap. Her eyes found the tag as her husband's hand crumpled it.

"Dear Khushi-ji, with love from Shyam."

Khushi closed her eyes. Despair made her limbs heavy. She stumbled towards the bed and caught herself on the frame.

Arnav-ji took a deep breath, "This is your proof?"

She sank onto the mattress, "No ..."

"Enough," he threw the gift wrap across the room, "We're done."

"Arnav-ji ..."

He suddenly stood in front of her, his hands on her shoulders as he forced her to look up, "Why would you keep it, if it wasn't from your lover? It's a memento of your affair, proof that he meant something to you!"

"No!"

"Then why would you keep it, Khushi?" his voice broke, "Why would you keep it?"

"I don't ..." she placed a trembling hand to his shoulder, "I don't know ... I swear Arnav-ji ... I can't even remember what came with it."

"Lies," he turned away, "Lies, always lies."

Khushi stood, "I hate him. I hate him as I've never hated anyone in my life. I hate him so much that it makes me sick to look at him. I hate him so much that I would rather die than have his name and mine be taken in the same breath."