Chapter 28: Arnav

Two nights later, Arnav glanced at his phone as it buzzed on the table. The caller ID scrolled across the screen - "Pagal"

His hand trembled as he reached for it. He breathed deeply before answering.

"Hi."

Silence.

And then a short sound; a sob. He closed his eyes as something unravelled inside him.

"Ssshhh. Don't cry."

Khushi sobbed again before whispering his name. Relief spread through him, warming him from inside out.

"Tell Uncle I'm coming over," he snatched his jacket from the back of the sofa as he stood, "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"No," she whispered.

"You can't stop me. Not this time."

The drive to Laxmi Nagar was excruciating. Every small delay was torture. He battered the horn repeatedly, cursing every few minutes as he wove his white SUV through the chaos. His car squealed to a stop outside her home.

She was waiting on the verandah, her dupatta wrapped about her for warmth and a cup of tea cradled in her hands. A second cup sat on the small table beside a teapot. Khushi stood as he slid out of his car, holding his gaze as he pushed the door closed and strode towards her. She took a few tentative steps forward, her lips trembling, before breaking into a run. He caught her, held her close. Breathed in the jasmine scent of her.

"Arnav-ji," Khushi sobbed into his jacket.

"Ssshhh."

Arnav patted her hair. His discomfort with her weeping subsided as he wound his fingers in the silk-softness. Her warmth seeped through him. Khushi gave one last, trembling sob before pulling away slightly. She blinked up at him.

"Hi," he said softly.

She sniffled, her bottom lip threatening to tremble again. He decided to distract her.

"Come with me."

"Babu-ji …" she protested.

"He'll understand. Just for a few minutes, Khushi."

Arnav led her to the car, her hand clasped firmly in his, and lifted her into the passenger seat. Then he slid into his own seat, turning the ignition and putting the car into gear before looking at her. She was watching him intently.

"A short drive," he explained, "So we can talk."

But minutes trickled by in silence as he drove out of Laxmi Nagar and towards Delhi. He stopped the car on a hilltop overlooking the city.

"Are we going to pretend it didn't happen?" he asked softly.

He gave a resigned sigh at her teary nod. "Okay then. How's everything."

"Babu-ji opened the shop again. Th-thank you for sending the security guards."

He waved her gratitude away, "It's fine."

"Babu-ji said … he said that you … your company won a contract?"

"Yeah," Arnav smiled, "We were awarded a contract in Europe. We're expanding to London next year."

"Europe? Like … Italy?" warmth finally seeped into her tone, "Salman-ji lived in Italy in Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam."

Arnav raised an eyebrow at her.

"Sorry," she blushed, "That's the only thing I know about Europe."

"That Shah Rukh Khan movie? Even I've seen that."

"Oh," her nose reddened, "Yes. Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge."

Arnav wondered at the awkward silence that settled between them. They'd never had trouble speaking to each other, not even in those first few days.

She's holding back.

"Khushi, we can't pretend it didn't happen."

"We'll fight again," the tremble in her voice triggered a sharp ache inside him.

He spoke around a sudden constriction in his chest, "How's Payal?"

"Jiji … she's getting better."

"Are you sure? Is there anything I can do?"

"No, she just needs time," Khushi took a deep breath, "You … you won't understand, Arnav-ji, what a woman goes through when her marriage breaks on the day she was supposed to take her vows."

Arnav looked away, his fingers toying with the steering wheel as he considered. He saw Khushi shiver out of the corner of his eye and switched on the heating.

She's going to be your wife. She'll find out eventually.

"I understand," he mumbled.

"What?"

He twisted his mouth, staring unseeing at the lights spread out before them.

"I know what a woman goes through. Di and Aman have been married three years, Khushi. You never wondered why Di didn't marry earlier?"

"No, I didn't … I didn't think …"

"Her first marriage … when it broke …" he lapsed into silence.

"What happened?" she reached over to clasp his hand in both of hers.

Arnav resisted the urge to wrench his hand away from her. His pulse raced as the memories overwhelmed him – Di dressed as a bride; his own happiness at seeing her grin; Sheesh Mahal decorated gloriously to welcome her groom and celebrate the alliance; a gunshot; his mother's scream; Di weeping next to two shrouded forms, still dressed as a bride; her abandoned altar.

Khushi's hands fluttered over his shoulders as she tried to embrace him in the awkward confines of the car. He slid his seat backwards before pulling her across the console and into his lap. Once settled, she looked away, blushing at the unfamiliar intimacy. Arnav held her closer.

"Sorry," she whispered, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Let's leave that story for another day."

He tried to tell her the rest, speaking quickly in an effort to lessen the pain the words inspired.

"Di endured a string of suitors, each more ungrateful and greedy than the last. They demanded compensation for everything from her broken marriage to her limp to our …" Arnav cut himself off, "Khushi, please understand, I've seen this before. I didn't want Di to marry into those families. I don't want that for your sister either."

Khushi nodded as she sniffled slightly.

"I never want to fight with you again," she mumbled miserably.

"Hmmm," he broke into a genuine smile, "so you're calling off the wedding, then?"

"What!? No!"

"That's the only way to make sure we never fight again."

Khushi blinked at him.

"We're going to fight," Arnav traced a finger across her cheek, "we're going to have small fights and big fights. You'll threaten to return to your parents and I'll sleep on the sofa."

He cut her off when she opened her mouth to protest, "But what's important is that we talk to each other. None of this no-speaking-for-three-weeks nonsense, okay?"

"You left," her whisper almost broke his heart.

"You didn't stop me," he murmured a reply, "or ask me to come back until today."

"I was angry."

"And now?"

Khushi shook her head, biting her lip as tears pooled in her eyes. "Not anymore. I'm sor-sorry I—"

"—Good," her interrupted her apology, "I missed you."

He kissed her cheek, tasting salt. She snuggled closer, burying her face against his shoulder. Arnav closed his eyes, content in finally having her back in his arms. She shifted.

His eyes snapped open at the featherlight touch of her lips against his neck. Khushi started to move away, eyes shadowed, but he tightened his hold. He brought her mouth to his with a groan, two fingers under her chin and his heart hammering in his chest. She shuddered against him.

He'd been careful, unsure of where she drew the line before marriage, but that control shattered as her hands moved over his chest. His pulse juddered and skipped and stopped before restarting, fast and loud and vital. He rang his tongue over her lips, seeking permission, and plunged inside at her moan. His hands travelled up and down her sides, across her back, before one tangled in her hair. His body aching with desire, he pulled her closer. She cupped his jaw with one hand, the other clutching his shoulder, nails biting into his skin through his shirt.

Khushi shifted, trying to get even closer, and the movement sent lightening zipping through his over-eager body. She pulled away with a gasp, her eyes wide as she looked down between them, and started to climb off.

"Stop wiggling," his voice was deep, rough, almost pained as she moved against him.

Her eyes flew to his as she realised what he meant. Mortified, she hid her face in her hands.

"Sssshhh," Arnav chuckled, carefully gathering her close, "Give me a moment, and then we'll drive back to your house and drink tea like proper courting couple?"

Khushi nodded, giggling softly against his chest.

"I missed you too," she said.