Arnav

He'd been a breath away from letting her fall.

He still remembered the sick thrill of pleasure that had coursed through him when she'd fallen onto the cardboard boxes stacked underneath his cabin.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Khushi clung to him desperately as she sobbed, her fingers curled into his waistcoat, and his disgust in himself slowly gave way to something else. He'd never been able to stand her tears.

She went to get medicine for Di, whispered his relieved heart.

She was still with Shyam, argued his mind.

But his heart didn't care. It clung to her explanation with everything it had.

Innocent. She's innocent.

This conflict between his heart and mind had permeated every facet of his life. Sometimes, he didn't recognize himself.

I hate her for what she's forced me to become.

He was not this man, this monster who left bruises on her arms and used words as weapons, this empty shell who fluctuated between wanting her and wanting to hurt her. A wave of self loathing gripped him as a memory of their first meeting flashed behind his eyelids. A locked room, a broken dori, pearls scattering to the floor, and a rush of tears.

Or maybe I am.

His wife trembled as her sobs finally slowed.

You kissed her, Arnav.

Her tears always cut through him a hundred times over, and the relief in her eyes when he'd saved her had weakened him. It had been the gentlest, quickest of touches of his lips to hers, his clumsy, half-panicked solution to her anguish.

She probably didn't even notice.

"What?" Khushi asked softly, "What did I do to make you so ...?"

"Don't ..." he warned.

You broke me. Betrayed me. Showed me a dream and then took it away. Tore my heart from my chest and crushed it, and all the while your heart beat for another.

"I want to know. Tell me what I did, that you hate me this much."

She stared up at him. He stood frozen, his seductress in his arms, a truth half formed on his lips.

I don't hate you. I want to ... but I can't.

A tear escaped, clinging to her lashes before dropping to her cheek. His breath came in ragged gasps as Khushi shifted slightly, her hand sliding up to his collar. A tremor wracked his body as his resolve wavered.

Her story contains just enough truth to be plausible, his mind warned.

There was still the possibility that she'd found a way to spend time with Shyam under the pretext of helping Di. Arnav closed his eyes against the memory of Khushi in another man's arms, the memory of the words she'd used to betray him and everything he held dear.

"Then listen to what you did ... what you tried to do," Arnav held her closer, his hands somehow rendered incapable of releasing her even through the haze of confusion and wrath.

"I'm this angry because, despite hating you, I have to see your face every day," he continued, "I'm tired of this ... this stupid temporary marriage of six months with you."

It hurts to look at you every day and know that you are not mine.

"Then why?" she asked tearfully, "Why did you marry me?"

"I had to, damn it. Otherwise who knows what you would've done, how many lives you—"

Arnav froze, appalled at how close he'd come to the truth.

"Arnav-ji?"

Just like that day, in the first week of their marriage, there was a trembling vulnerability in her tone, as if she couldn't fathom hurting him so much. And just like that day, he ached to believe in it. He crushed the feeling, twisting his body away from hers as he extricated himself from her grip.

Immediately, he missed her warmth.

"I don't want to see your face," he growled, "Stay away from me."

"I forgot. Arnav Singh Raizada needs to remain in control of everything."

Tears had pooled in her eyes once again. The image of his office, covered in potted plants, flashed into his vision.

"It's good that you've gotten to know me so well, because you'll have to answer to me for the next six months. You'll do exactly as I say. And don't dare to ask questions."

Her eyes had lowered but she looked back up briefly, questions running amok, before kneeling to gather the fallen jewellery.

"Did you hear me, Khushi?"

She stood, almost shaking with fury. "If you've said all that, then tell me this as well. What should I say when Nani-ji asks how this broke?"

Arnav inhaled sharply, grimacing as she brandished the broken necklace. It hung between them, flashing accusations in the bright porch lights. Frustration – at her, at the situation, at everything they were and everything they weren't – guided his hand as he snatched it from her. It landed on the ground between them, and he crushed it underneath a hand sewn leather shoe as he stepped forward.

"Tell her whatever you want."

Khushi found the edge of the stair again as she automatically moved away. His hand shot out to prevent her fall.

"Careful, Khushi."

"You hate me!" her eyes flashed in anger, "Why do you care?"

"I do care, dammit!"

She froze in her struggles to free herself. He froze too.

Fuck.

The light in her eyes changed, anger dimming as something else flared. He started to flee after pulling her to safety, but her hand found his shoulder.

"No," her voice shook.

Arnav closed his eyes as weakness flooded his veins, "Don't ..."

Khushi closed the distance between them, "I ... I c-care t-too."

Her words echoed in his mind as he took her in his arms, his back against the wall and his wife against his chest. She gasped but remained in place as her hands locked on his shoulders. Her lips trembled.

Arnav allowed himself to act on the urge that always gripped him on seeing that tremble. He lowered his head to press his mouth to hers, steadying her, comforting her, giving her his strength.

Take everything, Khushi. Take it all.

She did. After a few moments of frozen indecision in which her eyes fluttered closed and her body pressed into his, she responded. Tentative, slow movements that caused heat to flash through him like lightning. His hand found her hair, fingers running through the soft silk before tangling in it, angling her head for better access. Khushi made a soft sound of appreciation that urged him on. He switched their places so she was trapped between his body and the wall and toyed with the bauble that hung from her sleeve before crushing her closer, running his hands up and down her arms.

Arnav left her lips with great reluctance, taking pity on her lungs and working his way across her cheek and along her jaw. She trembled, her hands tightening in his hair in unconscious encouragement. And then she moaned as he kissed where her pulse raced at her throat. Khushi pulled him up, breathing hard as she met him in another kiss. He groaned as she slid her tongue along his. The insatiable fire that had burned within him since the night of the photo shoot raced along his veins.

More.

He pressed against her, groaning at the slight relief the friction provided. Khushi gasped. And he froze, reason finally coming to him in a rush.

Not here.

"Come."

He led her inside, suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed they'd been and how cool the night air had become.

"Arnav-ji," Khushi paused on the stairs.

He stopped too, looking down to where her fingers had tightened around his. "What's wrong?"

"I don't ..." she looked away as her entire form shook, "I d-don't know ..."

Arnav slid his hand out of hers as rejection swept through him and solidified into anger. "Fine."

"No!" Khushi stepped around him to block his path, "I meant ... I don't know how ... how ..."

Oh.

Tenderness replaced the tumult inside him as he cupped her jaw, watching as she leaned into his touch.

"Do you trust me?" his thumb traced her lips.