Chapter Seven: Two Steps Closer

I’m talking about a little proposition for us both to get something we really, really want. I give a little, and you give a little.

~~ Katie Ashley, The Proposition ~~

February, 2013

Arnav stepped out of the elevator, each step lazy and clumsy at times as he made his way towards the familiar apartment late Saturday night. It was soon becoming a habit, finding himself down the hallway almost every other day. The past couple weeks had been rough, both at work and at home, what with projects’ deadlines and his cousin’s impending wedding. Though he was glad they still had about two months, Arnav failed to understand how anyone, let Payal who he soon realized as one of the romantic souls along with his sister, could possibly want summer wedding. While he was not interested in pre-wedding ceremonies, he couldn’t help but admit that he was beginning to enjoy the festivities. It was not hard not to understand the reason behind his sudden change of heart. 

Leaning against doorframe, Arnav knocked at the door, brows frowning at the laughter greeting him from the other end. He was used to drop by, unannounced, and crash the night in her room which, much to his pleasure, Khushi accepted without her usual cautious approach. Yes, she still have reservations, yet, Arnav could see them making through it all. Also, he liked and enjoyed her friends’ company, even though he would rather prefer hers alone but it was always good to meet and spend time with people in her life – something he never did with any woman before. 

But tonight was probably one of those days where he simply wanted nothing more than a good old snuggle. So it was not surprising as he find irritation marring his features at the thought of her friends’ company, and almost groaned when he saw Lavanya by the door, her friendly smile not helping to hide his disappointment. 

“Arnav! What a surprise!” 

Even through his tired and drowsy eyes, Arnav could easily identify the signs of panic as Lavanya invited him in, rather loudly he might add. His brows narrowed suspiciously as he untied his shoelaces, flexing his toes on cold marble flooring. “It isn’t really a surprise anymore, Lavanya. You’d have been used to my visits by now.” 

He watched the woman letting out a nervous chuckle just as Khushi entered the narrow hallway, her face breaking into a wide smile as she threw herself in his arms. “Arnav!” She whispered but stepped back a second later, much to his displeasure. A friendly greeting, Khushi would insist in others’ presence, when they were anything but. 

But before he could respond, his eyes caught the familiar sight of a man lounging on the couch, the younger man’s eyes narrowed. 

“Ah,” Arnav groaned inwardly but smiled nonetheless, his arm around her waist as they made their way in, with Lavanya following closely. “NK, hello. How are you man?” 

It wasn’t like Arnav had anything against the younger man. In fact, when he first met him, Arnav was positive that they’d end up being good friends at the best. Yet, here they were, just months after their first meeting, nowhere close to considering as acquaintance. The air was taut with tension so thick one could easily feel it hovering like a ticking time bomb. 

Under different circumstance, Arnav and NK might actually share a cordial equation. Only, it was too obvious – the younger man was head over heels for Khushi. If he were to be honest, Arnav knew NK would be the best choice for Khushi. For the woman who was looking for love, NK was willing to offer the very same things.   

Yet, here he was, not about to let go off the one woman who managed to hold his attention in ways Arnav wasn’t even aware off that a person could. It would be too sad if it all ended. He felt it before he accepted it. Khushi was special, that had been established the second he laid eyes on her. He’d be damned if he let her go. 

Men like NK never bothered him; they were normal, ordinary guys next door types – the one who would invest a whole lot in a relationship, nurture it with care and never deviate from their partners. Lifelong commitment was what they look for; something Arnav had hell lot of difficulty understanding. They were way too normal for his flamboyance taste in women. To his utter shock, Arnav soon realized it was not the case anymore, all thanks to a certain doe-eyed innocence beside him who, much to his displeasure, leaned forward, her eyes perked up in that childlike excitement, nodding animatedly to something NK was saying. 

If Arnav was by volatile in nature, or if vocalizing his feelings comes naturally, NK would probably be on the other side of the door, grasping for dear life. Since he was not – NK was indeed fortunate he wasn’t – Arnav settled back smugly, but snaked an arm around Khushi’s waist and pulled her back into his arms. Pretending could wait for their families’ audience, not for men like NK who wasn’t even hiding their sentiments for the woman Arnav was interested in. 

The change in the atmosphere was palpable; one could easily chuck out punctured pause the moment Khushi willingly leaned into him. He could see NK’s speech cut mid-air, palms fisted tightly, while Lavanya gazed the two men with nervous chuckle. And Khushi… Arnav sighed. Khushi was blissfully unaware of the tension as she carried on with their ongoing conversation. 

“It does sound great.” She perked up, smiling brightly at the younger man, Arnav had a hard time not to do anything silly. “Only if I’m good with my hands!”

Arnav had nothing else but his own one-track mind that always led to gutter to blame the moment his head snapped at her direction once the words were out. How else could he explain the track his thoughts were running when he had no idea of what they were talking about in the first place? 

“Come on, Khush.” He heard NK’s gushing, “You’re as good as any of us. All you’ve to do is believe you’re and give it a try.” 

Arnav shifted on the couch, acutely aware of the discomfort and tingles that ran down his body. “What exactly are you talking about?” 

“Drawing!” Khushi informed, her face lighting up, “painting, all those artistry things. There’s an art exhibition-cum-sale coming up in a month. Some of the artists are offering a couple courses, NK’s friend being one of them.” 

Having no input whatsoever, Arnav was left with no option but to stare as three colleagues hunched over while Khushi continued. “I say, you book a slot for yourself, NK. I’m sure Aman will be okay with it. In fact, he might even help with the sale by inviting our clients.”

“Aman Mathur will no doubt kick my ass if he finds out I’m not just his employee.” NK grimaced. “Our contract binds us from working for anyone else… freelance or otherwise.” 

“I’d gladly pay for it.” 

Three pair of eyes snapped at him as Arnav cursed his big mouth under his breath. He barely glanced at NK, took a brief look at Lavanya before he rested his gaze on the woman who apparently made her way through his heart and stubbornly settled in his veins. “Those courses do sound promising, I’d gladly pay for one, give it a go, if I were you.” Those words tasted bitter in his mouth, twisted explanation, hating that familiar urge to rip something, anything in his vicinity – a constant feeling whenever Khushi was surrounded by other men, with its first signs making its appearance on that late evening when he first saw her with Aman. Was it what Anjali would call jealous? He didn’t know. He didn’t like it one bit.

Nodding eagerly, Khushi squeezed his hand. “Do that,” she said, her voice edged with a soft command, “I’ll have you draw one for me.” She then looked at her friend, “I’m already having NK draw one.” 

“Really?” Arnav asked, feigning interest as he finally acknowledged the younger man. “What is it? When can I see it?”

“A cluster of buildings on a sunny day,” NK stated plainly, eyes hostile as they glared at each other, “with a lone silhouette standing at the top of the world.”

“To depict Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead,” Khushi chirped excitedly. “That’s my all-time favorite.”

Just like that, the urge to drag NK all the way out and shut the door on his face came back and with vengeance, Arnav jumped off his feet. “As much I’d like to go on with this,” he forced each word out with enough politeness, “I’ve important things to discuss… the wedding,” he added, his eyes narrowing at Khushi who simply shrugged and nodded.

“Oh yeah, Payal did call earlier today. Apparently, they’re having yet another pre-wedding themed party.” Khushi joined Arnav. “I’ll see you two in the morning.”

So NK’s crashing here, Arnav thought, the very idea of their night-out making him shudder as they made their way to her room. As soon as she closed the door behind her, Arnav pushed her against it, his hands gripping her waist, lips on hers.

Nibbling her lower lip, Arnav groaned when her arms snaked around his neck, fingers threading the nape of his hair. “I don’t like him,” he mumbled against her lips. 

Khushi shook her head with a breathless laugh. “Because he’s my friend?”

Arnav took a moment to gather his scattered thoughts and considered her question. Why was it that he disliked NK, not even bothering to be cordial with a man who did nothing that would guarantee his hostility? But his words had its own mind as he heard himself pout. “He is everything you wish to have in your lover. And he can draw. And paint. And is drawing your favorite for you. And can draw a ton of your favorites. I can’t even if my life depends on it.”

In that moment of clarity, Arnav understood. It was not just that NK was, as much he would hate to admit, perfect that he disliked the man. It was for being everything he wasn’t, the fear of one day Khushi would leave him that drove Arnav into restless rage, and he just directed it towards NK.

Sighing, he stared at her helplessly, leaning in to her touch as she placed a palm on his cheek.

“He is everything I look for, yes.” Khushi admitted easily, it stung. “But he is not here with me. You are. Yes, he gets to draw my favorite things, but he will never get to draw that one thing I’d rather have. Only you get to, if only you can.”

That kind of assured him. His lips curved up into a small smile. “What if I can? What will I get to draw that NK can’t?”

Her arms tightened as she pressed herself closer, eyes startling hazel as they gazed into his caramel browns, a playful smile dancing its way on her face as Khushi pressed her lips to his. “Like one of those French girls.”

He felt the air shift in its course before he heard her. “Don’t tempt me,” he pleaded, the tightness of his skinny jeans not helping his state as he shut his eyes, wishing his mind not to override with imaginative – provocative – scenarios.

“But I want you to…” Khushi pouted, her voice trailing as she pulled herself further closer, snuggling up in the crook of his neck, kissing him softly.

In a swift motion, he turned them around, pushed her back on the bed, him on top, his hands arresting hers above. “Your brother hates me just for kissing you in a trial room. He’ll kill me if he finds this out.”

“So?” Khushi raised a brow challengingly. “You are chickening out now?” 

“F**k, no!” Arnav could feel adrenaline rush in his veins, could feel his hardness pressing against her inner thigh, could feel her heart jumping out of her chest. “But I want our first time to be more special, and definitely not with your friends stationed out of this room. Not before you’re ready.”

He stared, mesmerized at the sight, at his own self-control, as Khushi bit her lower lip, arching so she could feel him, and took a sharp breath when she did, while he groaned inwardly at the torture he was subjected to. “I’m ready.”

“F**k! Khushi, please!” Arnav begged, his vision clouded with lust and something else, something he had been trying to figure out ever since that day at the café. “When the time is right, babe!”

“When?” Khushi whispered, her voice barely audible above their heart beats.

With a low grunt, Arnav pressed his lips on her forehead, lingering a moment longer, before settling back on the bed and pulling her into his arms. “Soon,” he whispered, his fingers playing with her curls while hers fisted the collar of his shirt.

__________

February, 2015

Khushi tossed a tissue aside, her brows furrowed in concentrated irritation as she pulled yet another one, her fingers finding its way as she drew on it. It was an old habit, one that helped her pass time as a kid while waiting for their order whenever they decided to dine at a restaurant, to draw nonsensical shapes of all forms. It helped her develop a habit of having a notepad and a pen in her bag, among other important things she’d carry along all the time. An old habit now kicking in as she waited. 

It was well past seven later the same evening and Aman had dropped her off at her requested designation on his way home. Her little conversation with him helped her sort a couple things out and she would forever be grateful for being a great friend in times like this. It was just easy to figure her friendship with Aman Mathur, than what she had with others, her brother included. 

Not that there was any change in their dynamics. It was just… for the lack of better word… weird. Her brother had always been over protective of the guys she was interested in. Right from their high school, she could very well see the signs of him cornering the boy she was crushing on at that point of time, and make sure to deliver an hour’s long lecture of do’s and don’ts with a promise of hurting the worst if they ever made her cry. She had been informed, both by her friends and the boys she succeeded to pitch a dinner date, just how promising and dangerous Aarav Gupta sounded. 

Yet, when it comes to Arnav, there was the lack of intensity in her brother’s warnings. It could be because of any number of reasons, her inability to remember the man she once loved to hundreds of such lectures delivered in the course of their dating history being the top two she could come up with. Not that it helped her in any way; instead, it only encouraged her curiosity as to why Aarav, despite his reservations on her choice, indulged with them to keep it a secret, or, according to Aman, the relationship being just a low-key? 

And as much she would like for a miracle and have her forgotten memory back, she knew that it was not a cliché film. Reality was much different than fairytales and she had no intention to spend the rest of her life with what ifs. She would very much want a normal life where she would get to experience falling in love, being loved, and a dream of finding her perfectly imperfect future where she would grow, as an individual and as a partner, with the help of and along her partner. 

She also knew, for it to be that way, she had to be absolutely certain and shut the doors of her past and for good. She intended to have a closure if that could help her move on. 

That was the exact reason why she was in a posh Italian Restaurant, the familiarity of her surroundings assuring her of the unfamiliar situation she was in. She used to have her regular siblings-bonding-dinner here, and she seemed it only apt to have such supporting setting to what she was about to do. 

Once Aman had dropped her off, she was directed to her table, which she had already reserved on her way there – a private cubicle for two. Ordering herself a bottle of Red Wine, she left a short text to the one she had been contemplating to give a call for few weeks now.

Now, thirty-five minutes later, she was a nervous wreck. Ten minutes after hitting send, she made a quick call to her sister, informing her last minute changes in plan. Khushi didn’t bother to let her sister know that she was meeting up with her husband’s cousin. Even if they were closest friends, Khushi would like to keep as much to herself as possible to avoid any more conflicting notions that comes from both her siblings. Her past with Arnav and the contradicting opinions of Payal and Aarav were enough to deal with; she didn’t want to complicate things by bringing her present into the picture. 

Also, she would like to know what exactly transpired between Arnav and her. They were bound to run into each other due to the families’ ties and she wasn’t looking forward to have awkward moments with one of the people who were seemingly close and important in her sister’s life. The more comfortable she was with them, the better such run-ins would turn out to be.

Not that she was particularly excited to rekindle those lost connections with Payal’s extended family. She was merely playing good younger sister role so it would not led to a disheartened Payal. A disheartened Payal always meant a dramatic Payal that Khushi wasn’t really fond of.

Shaking her head with a soft chuckle at the direction of her thoughts, she glanced at the tissue, finally okaying a simple elevation for a two-storied medieval house. Tugging it in her bag, she looked up, scanning the area – now steaming with excited dinner companions ranging from a happy family, free spirited group of friends and men in tailored suits attending a business dinner meetings – only to lock them with a pair of caramel pools, dark and intense as they stared down at her, his frame towering over her. 

Stumbling back on her seat at the unexpectedness entry of her guest, Khushi cleared her throat, grabbing a fresh tissue just so she would have something to do with, and glanced at the familiar stranger who – much to her discomfort – looked as lost and lifeless as he had been that evening all those weeks ago. 

There was a blank canvas in her mind that willed her to just paint whatever she wished for. It could be just an elder sister’s extended family member. It could be an old and forgotten friend. It could be just friends. Anything really, Khushi realized, and no one would have a say in it. Aarav wouldn’t get to control if friendship was what she liked to have. Aman’s surprisingly encouraging facts wouldn’t influence the way she conducted her new formed relationship. Payal wouldn’t be more pleased to find them in any way she wanted. But, as she stared, Khushi couldn’t help but wonder if she had fallen for him at the very first sight, or if it took her a while, their acquaintance turning into friendship that gradually developed into something more and beautiful.

Because, as she looked at Arnav Singh Raizada, she could easily picture herself falling for him.

Thick lashes resting on high cheekbones, brows as think and perfectly arched without his trying, nose straight and jawline chiseled, his lanky frame complimented by broad shoulders and muscles, he was easy on the eyes, a handsome man despite the stubble which he obviously took care off since the last she saw him. A little more groomed and he would have been a breathtaking sight to look at.

And the shadows lurking in his eyes couldn’t hide the faintest smile clouding as he looked down at her, allowing her a glimpse of what he might actually be – a carefree, happy-go-lucky guy next door, just like he was in her sister’s wedding album.

“Khushi”

Her name rolled off as a sweet torture as she watched, dumb folded, Arnav stepping away and pulling the chair out. His voice was just as deep and husky as she remembered from their last meeting, yet, it was empty, devoid of any emotions his eyes failed to hide, and it only increased her curiosity of their shared dynamics. Was he as careful before like he was now? Did he treat her gently and looked at her as if his slightest, unintentional roughness either in his voice or his eyes would break her apart? Was she comfortable with him treating like that, or did she expect more… roughness… wanting to be treated as his equal?

As far as she could remember, she was interested in relationships where the involved persons treat each other as their equals, with respect, love and support, and not belittled as fragile partner.

Suddenly, Khushi wasn’t sure if she was ready to talk to him, to have all the answers, and to realize how different she was in these years.

Yet, as he settled back comfortably, eyes never leaving hers, Khushi found herself nodding in acknowledgement.

“Arnav”

She greeted him, testing his name, smiling inwardly at the smoothness as it rolled off her tongue.

Silence drew upon them as a waiter handed them their menus. It was nothing sort of uncomfortable, and surprisingly, Khushi liked it. Taking her time, she studied the menu, painfully aware of his movements, as slight and absurd as it might be. The flicker of his wrist as he dismissed the menu, his impatience rolling off in waves as he drummed his fingers on the table, his narrowed brows as a smile softened his features… Khushi wasn’t sure if it was normal in the presence of a man she barely knew.

Deciding to go with her usual order, she shut the menu and handed it over to the waiting waiter, but before she could, she heard his deep baritone, her favorite dish flickering over his tongue, making it so much more delicious as he placed her order for her.

“Ossobuco alla Milanese with roasted red swiss chard for the lady,” Arnav stated, a bust of confidence radiating off his body while Khushi stared, mouth wide open. “I’ll have Caprese Lasagna Roll ups, please, thank you.” 

Khushi waited, watching the waiter’s retreating form so she wouldn’t look as stupid as she felt, with her mouth still having trouble to shut, her eyes round and wide in her face. She shouldn’t be surprised that he knew her, and knew her well.

“I’m not even asking how.” She commented drily once she gathered her scattered thoughts, her gaze settling on the man in front of her, her own lips curving up at his knowing smile.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.” He said, though he sounded anything but sorry. “I guess I wanted to make sure you are still the same woman I fell for.”

“No, you’re not.” She pointed out and stared, blatantly, when Arnav let out a laugh. It was not an uncertain laugh one would give his companion to cover up awkwardness. It was full blown carefree laugh of a young man at a friend’s joke – carefree, full of life and dazzling.

“No, I’m not.” Arnav admitted, all playfulness gone as fast as it appeared. “I’m not a patient man and barely hanging on by a thread.”

Khushi was tempted to blame circumstance for the sudden flush on her cheeks. She could easily point out that the temperature wasn’t comfortable. But, she was done with beating around the bush. If this was to work, she’d have to be upfront and admit at least for herself.

Even without an idea of what they shared, she could easily feel the tension, the depth behind his words and that intensity scared her. He had, after all, stayed away as per her request and she fueled this, whatever it was she was seeing in his eyes, by taking a step and sending that message.

Whether she would regret or cherish it… only time would tell.

For now, she would enjoy her dinner and see what the hype surrounding Arnav Singh Raizada was about.

“Tell me,” she heard herself, low and distinct, almost inaudible against the soft instrumental music in the background along with clatters of spoons and glasses. By the way his eyes glittered in low amber lighting, she knew he heard her.

She had no idea what she wanted to hear, or where to start. She wasn’t sure if she was even ready to unfold her past. Yet, she leaned in a little, her hands resting on the table, her wine long forgotten that her eyes widened ever so slightly when he reached for the glass, sipping her drink, his eyes never leaving hers.

“There’s nothing much to tell, really.” Arnav said with a shrug.

It infuriated her for some reasons. Her own confused thoughts regarding her past, the various off handed comments about Arnav and her, and his casual shrug compiled together, leaving her behind as a restless mess that grabbed any chance she got to save herself from impending fall into abyss.

Her eyes flashed with anger. “So what we had, was nothing?” She demanded, her voice considerably high. “What we shared… our supposed love? This ring, whatever the hell it was, meant nothing?”

She watched, slumping in her seat when Arnav hardly glanced at the ring. “You shouldn’t be wearing it.”

It hurt. Khushi knew it was ridiculous, but his words hurt and she wondered how in the hell she ever liked him enough to be in a relationship. she glanced at the ring, at the inscribed ‘A’ and took a deep breath. “Why?”

She waited for what felt like ages, blinking back threatening tears while Arnav took his time to drown half the contents before placing the glass back on the table. She barely noticed the waiter placing their order. All she could see was him, the waiting filled with deafening silence and sighed when he took her left hand in his, the warmth of his body seeping through hers, quivering at the touch.

“The woman I love cherished this.” Arnav whispered, tracing the band with a finger, caramel pools filled with love. “You don’t remember our life together. You hardly know me… this ring meant nothing to you.”

“That’s not…” Khushi tried to protest but trailed off, her gaze lowering to their hands. Except for a reminder of what she supposedly had but lost, the ring meant nothing, really. 

“No matter even if I give you a detailed description on what we share,” he said, his voice held nothing with soothing assurance as he traced her knuckles, his fingers curling around hers, “it will still mean nothing, Khushi. It will not bring back your forgotten feelings… friendship or otherwise.”

She had to agree with him on that. She was never going to have her memory back. So what purpose would it serve if she knew what she lost when the words of another person wouldn’t assure of the feelings she once cherished?

“How are we to function normally, then?” She voiced her thoughts. If there was one thing she disliked, it was to have any uncomfortable moment with someone. “How are we to forget everything and move on?”

“You know, we had it all wrong.” Arnav said with a chuckle as he leaned further in, his other hand coming up to join theirs, his action a subconscious impulse that Khushi couldn’t help but smile. It simply felt good. “We hit it off right from the start. There was no friendship that gradually developed into something beautiful.”

She took in a sharp breath at hearing him voicing her thoughts, even as he continued, unaware of her pounding heart in her chest.

“There was no official, formal first date, or grand displays of affection with expensive gifts and all that cliché stuff you so love.” Arnav smiled fondly at a memory as Khushi stared, drinking his every word, quenching her thirst. “We made everyone believe that we were friends. There were times where we both wondered how things would have turned if we started it off as friends… you know.”

It made her laugh. She never would have guessed to call Arnav as adorable. Now that, though, with him looking up at her with a thoughtful frown and a pout, she found herself squeezing his fingers the best she could will trapped in his both hands.

“I’d love to have a fresh start,” she admitted, feeling a lot more at ease that she had been ever since she first saw him at the hospital.

There was a pregnant pause, it made her restless as she wondered if she had said hurtful, but sighed immediately when he leaned back, his eyes twinkling never leaving hers as he tugged her hand before leaving it. His smile made things further easier as she settled back in her seat.

“I’d love that.”

His words stilled time as they looked at each other with soft smiles. Whatever was in store for her in the future, she knew that Arnav would be that friend she would lean in when life tried to bitch her. And despite everything, the evening was going to end with a promise of a friendship… and a new beginning.

__________