Chapter 19

"Don't worry," Shyam said, over the phone one late evening in Delhi. "Everything will be our favour."

 

Despite the lateness of the hour, he was still in this office, impatiently listening to the complaints of his client -an aging socialite named Mrs. Rao- while glancing occasionally at a tolerantly seated Anjali.

 

If Shyam had known the over-cautious Mrs. Rao was going to call when she was in the room, he would have turned his phone off without a thought. But alas, his luck wasn't so good!

 

"Okay then Mrs. Rao," he said, his tone ringing with finality. "I will see you next week. Take care."

 

"What was the big deal that Mrs. Rao couldn't wait until tomorrow morning to call?" Anjali asked, as soon he hung up.

 

"It's the usual panic before a hearing... she thought I didn't know how to handle a divorce case."

 

A line appeared on Anjali's forehead. "Divorce? I thought you were criminal lawyer..."

 

"I am. But that doesn't forbid me from taking on a domestic case."

 

"But why do you want to take it? It's in Mumbai, right?"

Shyam didn't know what to say. While it was true that he was dedicating more time than what was strictly needed for one tiny little case, he had no idea why he felt an unnecessary pull towards it.

 

Or at least, he thought he didn't.

 

"Is it personal?" she asked, watching his face closely.

 

"Not really," he muttered, debating whether he should finally acknowledge his reasons.

 

"Then?"

 

Shyam watched her look back at him with curiosity. Perhaps it was her innocent interest wanting to know or his own soured mood craving to speak, but what ever it was, it drove him to spill one the hardest truths of his life.

 

"My parents separated when I was twelve."

 

She was surprised. Clearly, she knew nothing about his family, though sixteen years ago, that was all anyone ever talked about.

 

"It was messy," he continued, in a detached voice. "My father used all of his influence to make sure my mother looked like the offender. Of course he succeeded, and all we had left at the end was bad press and zero income."

 

Anjali gasped.

 

"So ever since then," he pressed on, wanting to finish as quickly as humanely possible. "I try to fight for what's right. I couldn't help my mother then, but maybe I can help Mrs. Rao now... Even if I have to spend more time flying back and forth than in the actual courtroom."

 

Anjali didn't reply. It appeared, like everyone, she too had no words for the trauma his family went through. Shyam wasn't surprised - he was long since used to the stares he got.

 

"It's fine," he said, when the silence began to pinch uncomfortably. "Mrs. Rao has good evidence, so it should be-"  

 

The room was suddenly plunged into darkness, blinding them both. Anjali yelped in alarm, as Shyam wildly looked around, trying to adjust to the abrupt change.

 

"What's happening?!" Anjali called, panicked.

 

He vaguely heard her pushing back the chair, as she stood up. "Don't move," he warned. "You will get hurt."

 

"B-but why did the lights go out?!"

 

Shyam didn't hear her. He frantically looked for his phone, hoping that it was indeed on his desk where he last left it.

 

"S-Shyam?! Are you there?!"

 

He let out a sigh of relief. "Yeah," he answered, turning on the flashlight in his phone. However, his solace vanished as soon as he caught sight of Anjali. Trembling in fright, she looked ready to faint.

 

Alarmed, Shyam hurried to her side. "Are you okay?!"

 

"I-I don't like the dark."

 

"It's okay," he said, concerned. "The lights will be back soon... it's just a regular maintenance."

 

Anjali nodded, though she continued to shake in panic.  Doubting if she would be able to hold herself up much longer, he gently took her hand and directed her to sit on the floor.

 

"So, how come you are here so late?" he asked, hoping to distract her.

 

"Just f-finishing up this one wall," she said slowly, wiping off beads of sweat on her forehead. "I'm trying something new, so it's taking me longer than usual."

 

Shyam absentmindedly rubbed the back of his neck. "Ohh..."

 

"What's wrong?"

 

"Huh?"

 

She pointed to his hand, still clamped on his shoulder. "You do that when you are stressed."

 

He looked at her perplexed. "You noticed that?"

 

"Of course... and the lines on your forehead, as if you have wrinkles."

 

"Are you calling me an old man?!"

 

She giggled. "Maybe."

 

"Rude... I haven't even hit thirty yet," he said, pleased to see her gradually relax.  

 

"So, what's worrying you so much that you are aging so quickly?"

 

Shyam bit his lip, realizing that she wasn't going to be distracted from his worries, like he had otherwise hoped. In fact, she appeared quite determined in the dimmed room. 

 

Having no other choice, he surrendered. "It's Meeti... she is angry with me."

 

"Why?"

 

He hesitated. Where was he even supposed to begin with his complicated sister? And not to mention his equally complicated mother? Like always, he was torn between the two.

 

Despite his warnings, his mother chose not to disclose her condition to Khushi, claiming it was for the better. While he knew she had the best interests at heart, he didn't understand her reasoning. How could his mother not realize that hiding the truth would only drive Khushi away?

 

And to make matters worse, when his sister finally found out, she blamed him without a second thought. Of course, he expected it, given their conversation with Dr. Awasti, but he had still hoped she would listen to him before jumping to conclusions. It appeared it was too much to expect.

 

"The story is that long, huh?" Anjali asked, interrupting his thoughts.

 

He shook his head slowly, trying to find the simplest way to explain his predicament. "It all just boils down to one thing really... I kept Meeti in the dark about something she deserved to know."

 

"Okay... why did you hide it?"

 

"I didn't want to hide it," he said, feeling a sudden urge to explain himself. He couldn't afford another person misunderstanding him. "It wasn't my secret to tell... I was just trying to make someone else happy."

 

"So why don't you tell Khushi that?"

 

"Because she won't listen."

 

"But-"

 

"You don't know Meeti. Once she makes up her mind, there is no changing it. And it's fine if she thinks I'm to blame... I just want her to know I didn't do it intentionally, you know? Because her hating me is like... "

 

He trailed off, not finding words to describe the torment ripping him apart for the past few days. He looked at Anjali, hoping she understood. However, she appeared to be lost in deep thought. It was only when he had given up hope of hearing her answer that she spoke again.

 

"You know," she murmured. "I never really knew my Dad. He was always busy with the family business. It came to the point where sometimes I had to look at photos to remember how he looked like."

 

Shyam listened to her, confused by the sudden change of topic.

 

"But it never really bothered me... in fact, I didn't even miss him. You know why?"

 

He looked at her expectantly.

 

"Because Bhai was there... He never let me feel that I was missing something in my life. Whether it was helping me with my homework or dropping me at school or just covering my back... He was always there for me and still is."

 

A smile spread across Shyam's face.

 

"So trust me when I say this," she continued. "Khushi won't stay angry with you for long. You mean too much to her... it's just that you show it, and she doesn't."

 

Shyam was hit by the gravity of her words. How easily she had convinced him... As if she knew exactly what he went through the past couple days, as if she understood every bit of the bond he shared with his sister; it was truly incredible.

 

"And," Anjali said gently after a few moments. "I'm sorry about your parents..."

 

He nodded in gratitude, because even after all these years, when the "scandal" around his parents was still source of gossip, she managed to see the sorrow behind it.

 

 It was heartening in so many ways.

 

As if on the cue, the lights flickered on, flooding the room with brightness.

 

Anjali looked around in surprise. "I completely forgot about this."

 

He nodded in agreement, wishing that the maintenance had gone on for a little while longer. Letting out a disappointed sigh, he began to stand up when he realized he was still holding her hand.

 

Both surprised and pleased, he looked at Anjali, who was shyly observing their entwined hands. Upon catching his gaze, however, she lightly blushed and withdrew her arm.

 

"I should go," she mumbled, looking at the floor.

 

"Yeah, it's late," he answered, unwillingly.

 

Reluctantly bidding him goodbye, she was almost at the door, when-

 

"Anjali?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

"Thank you."

 

A dazzling smile lit her face. "You are a good person Shyam... you are a lawyer for all the right reasons."

 

He didn't know what hit him.

 

* * *

 

"... and that was how I ended up securing a meeting with Mr. Desai," Arnav finished with a bright smile.

 

"Yayy," Khushi answered sarcastically. "Now we all know you can make a great first impression... what a surprise."

 

He narrowed his eyes at her unimpressed expression.

 

The sun having long since set, AR Designs was completely empty save for Arnav and Khushi, who were seated in the boardroom, discussing an upcoming meeting with Desai Textiles.

 

"I know I should be past the point of surprise now," Arnav said. "But still, I can't help noticing your unappreciative nature for good stories."

 

She raised an eyebrow. "I am unappreciative?"

 

"Yes, unless you can find a better word to describe your feelings right now."

 

Khushi simply shook her head in exasperation. She had lost count of the number of times they had gone off topic in the past two hours. For some odd reason, Arnav was in an unusually good mood, which meant he was in no mood to work.

 

Of course, being used to his teasing nature, she wouldn't have cared much if their meeting, scheduled for the next morning, wasn't important.

 

But it was. And they needed to prepare.

 

"How about we set aside my feelings Mr. Raizada and do what we are supposed to do?"

 

Arnav crossed his arms. "Which is what exactly? Pour over these mundane files?"

 

She couldn't believe her ears. "Mundane?! I spent the whole week preparing these files so that nothing can go wrong tomorrow and you are calling them mundane?"

 

"You forgot to mention how you have tripled checked every single document in these files... so whatever you are afraid is going to go wrong tomorrow, is not going to be from these."

 

Khushi shrugged. While she definitely noticed some changes in him since the night they drove back from Agra, almost a week ago now, she realized with disappointment that his attitude in the office wasn't one of them.

 

He still teased her. He still pushed her. And worst of all, he still underestimated her.

 

"You can leave then," she said finally. "I will finish the rest... without your help."

 

"Has anyone ever told you that you are unnecessarily and overly meticulous about - let's see, everything?"

 

His words rang a bell somewhere deep down in her memories. "Actually yeah," she answered thoughtfully. "My ex said that once."

 

Arnav's eyes widened. "Your ex? I didn't know Krazy Kinetic Gupta did anything other than fret over her career."

 

"Ha ha... For your information, I had a fair share of boyfriends in my twenty-four years of life."

 

"Fair share is it? Then do tell - what made your boyfriends commit to such a risky relationship?"

 

She leaned back on her chair with a wide grin. "Some for my looks, some for my brains and some for fun."

 

"Sounds unrealistic."

 

"Is that you talking or your jealousy?"

 

"It's my amazement.  How did you find time for these relationships? I was under the impression you dedicated most of your life into securing your future."

 

Her face fell. "I didn't... and that's why they are my ex's now."

 

Arnav didn't reply.

 

"But for what it's worth," she said, lost in memories. "I received some pretty good entertainment while they lasted."

 

"Entertainment? Were you dating for fun or did you actually like anyone?"

 

She smirked. "What do you think?"

 

Arnav leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table in front. "I think you might have liked one or two... there is no other reason ex, in your case,is plural."

 

Khushi pressed her lips, not wanting to admit he was right. Like always, however, her silence gave away the answer.

 

"I knew it!" he exclaimed. "So, who was the lucky guy?"

 

"He was an aspiring rock star," she admitted sheepishly. "I was twenty when I met him."

 

"Musician?" Arnav said, surprised. "I would never have guessed."

 

"Yeah, I was surprised with myself too. But he was funny and easy-going... no cheesy conversations, no I-will-die-without-you speeches or you-changed-my-life-forever monologues. It was a nice change, given my unnecessarily dramatic friends."

 

"So, what happened?"

 

"He got attached."

 

Arnav appeared confused.  

 

"He got a break in some random country," Khushi explained, shaking her head. The memory still irritated her to no bounds. "So, he wanted me to go with him."

 

"You didn't want to...?"

 

"Of course not! It's not my life's ambition to tag along with a guy while he builds his career and then hang on to him like dead weight when he tastes success and then be left behind when he finds someone else to tour the world."

 

Khushi gritted her teeth. That was perhaps one of the most difficult break-ups she had to deal with, not because the decision was hard to make (rather it was too easy), but because it reminded her of her parents.

 

For the longest time ever, the fear of turning into her mother, into a woman too weak to stand up for herself, haunted Khushi. And to this day, she had never dated an aspiring man again.

 

"It was stupid to begin with," she finally concluded to a thoughtful Arnav. "I just got carried away with his looks and no-strings-attached policy."

 

Khushi anticipated a sarcastic remark or two. After all, he was the noble advocate of love, so his thoughts on her decision were obvious to say the least. To her great surprise, however, he did nothing of that sort.

 

Instead, he calmly said, "And now you are with Akash."

 

For some odd reason, his words took too long to sink in.  "And now I'm with Akash," she repeated solemnly, almost as if reminding herself. 

 

Arnav let out a disappointed sigh. "What are you doing Khushi?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Yousaid you don't believe in love. You broke up with a man because he fell in love with you. So how exactly are you in a relationship with Akash?"

 

"It's complicated."

 

"Is it?" he challenged.

 

She took a deep breath, trying to understand where he was steering the conversation.

 

"How about I simplify it for you?" Arnav said, when she didn't answer. "My brother thinks he is in love with you, and you are scared you will lose him if you tell him the truth."

 

"You don't know that-"

 

"But I do. You told me, remember? I agree it was in a drunken stupor, but the thought nonetheless came from you."

 

"I could be mistaken!"

 

"You could," he accepted. "But even if you are, it doesn't change your position in this whole matter."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"You don't love Akash."

 

She let out a sigh, her patience stretched too thin. "And why on earth does that even matter?" she snapped. "I mean, yes, I broke up with someone because he got too attached. But that doesn't mean he wasn't happy when we were together... Akash is no different."

 

He didn't answer.

 

"So, please, stop asking me what my relationship means or what it doesn't... I'm fine. And so is Akash, okay?!"

 

Arnav didn't react. "By all means birthday girl," he said calmly, once she was done. "Go ahead with whatever you have going on with my brother. What I'm merely curious about is your plans for the future."

 

"What plans?!"

 

"You don't believe in love and Akash does. Have you ever thought about what you will say when he will pop the million dollar question?"

 

"He won't."

 

Arnav snorted, watching her defiantly stare at him. "Either you are lying, or you don't know Akash as well as you think you do."

 

"And you do? You know Akash as well as you think you do?"

 

"Of course... I know for a fact that my brother won't rest in peace until he slips a ring on the love of his life. He believes in commitments, on sunshine and daisies and on perfect families, which last I checked goes against every grain of your belief system."

 

Khushi was taken back. She knew there was truth to every word he uttered, but she just couldn't get herself to think that far. Not when her plate was full with more pressing matters.

 

"I will think about it when the time comes," she finally said, clearing her throat.

 

"And that is precisely why you got yourself into this."

 

She glared at him. "Stop it! Stop acting like I'm typical and predictable... You know nothing about me!"

 

"One would have to literally be blind to not see what you do every time there is trouble in paradise."

 

"Oh yeah? And what is that?"

 

"You avoid it."

 

She took a moment to recover. "I'm not avoiding any-"

 

"Then why are you still here?" he asked. "Why aren't you at home, eating dinner with your family or catching a movie with your friends? Why does your life revolve around these mundane files and contracts?!"

 

She was silent, having no answer for his questions.

 

"It's obvious that you're avoiding something... just like how you are avoiding your relationship with Akash."

 

Khushi had enough. "And what are you? My shrink or something, telling me to face my fears, live my life, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera?"

 

Arnav stared at her for a whole minute before suddenly bursting into laughter.

 

"There is nothing funny-"

 

"And I couldn't agree more," he answered, chuckling in what seemed to be absurdity. "But since you have promoted me to the position of your therapist, let me offer you some advice."

 

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. It appeared that he wasdetermined to get his point across.

 

"Stop fooling yourself," he said, standing up and walking around the desk to where she was seated.

 

"I don't fool myself."

 

He reached her side. "Being honest with yourself would be a good start."

 

"Ex-"

 

"Uh-uh," he interrupted with slight shake of his head. He had perched himself on the table now, his eyes pouring into hers. "I'm not done yet."

 

And to Khushi's astonishment, he leaned forward until he was only a few inches from her. She squirmed under his unblinking gaze.

 

"Drop this pretentious mask birthday girl," he said, his breath fanning her face. "It doesn't suit you."

 

He then reached around to gently tug on her customary ponytail. "And try to consider another hairstyle while you are at it... you are nearly not as reserved or for that matter, boring, as you look."

 

Her mouth dropped open. "Did you just...?"

 

He half-smiled in answer.

 

Khushi knew she should rage at him, both for his teasing and uncalled advice, but she couldn't. Instead of the usual irritation that filled her every time he was around, a strange sort of excitement was budding within her.

 

It was then that she inadvertently realized how close he was to her - one wrong turn and their lips would brush. She silently admonished herself for the thought. The consequences for the first time they kissed were bad enough; she didn't dare imagine what would happen the second time.

 

Her thoughts appeared to be evident on her face, for Arnav suddenly began to edge even closer, the mischievous glint in his eyes intact. He stopped just an inch or two from her ears.

 

"And since you brought it up," he murmured. "I might as well stick to tradition and advise you to -what was it?- face your fears and live your life."

 

He then straightened up, the smirk she despised broad on his face.

 

Khushi felt her heart skip a beat. What was it in his voice or for that matter his muddy brown eyes that made her so uncomfortable? Why did she feel as if he penetrated the thickest and closest of her walls? 

 

Reeling from her strange symptoms, she gingerly stood up and began to collect the files on the desk.

 

"Why the unnatural silence?" he asked, when she made no attempt to speak.

 

"I-I have to go," Khushi answered, not meeting his eyes. "I will read these at home."

 

She left without even hearing his reply.