Chapter 56

Hello Everyone

Thank you all for your immense love and support. It humbles me and I want to express my gratitude to every single one of you for this amazing feeling. Lots of questions. My wattpad id is the same as my IF id: shrattila. Please do follow me there. I will be completing this story there and subsequently posting more of my work there. Savera84 did share some information about IF revamping their FF section. The thread indicated it would go live in Feb. Definitely worth checking out and if it is as they claim, it might be another great opportunity to post my work.

I will not be sending PM's of my work to my readers anytime soon. It takes away too much of my time and honestly acted as a deterrent to me continuing to write on IF. But as I promised, I will complete this story.

So without further ado, onto the next chapter.

PS: For some reason, I am unable to post pictures anymore 😔 So we will continue with the story without the header picture!

As usual, eagerly awaiting your comments.

52

The sparse amount of moonlight filtering in through the vivid images painted on the window glass confirmed that their wait was still not over. Both Arnav and Khushi had given up any hope that help would come along before dawn.

Khushi’s eyes were growing heavy by the minute and yet she refused to close them. They kept going back to the flickering candle flame, that was almost going to die. Arnav had managed to find a matchbox and a few more candle stubs in one of the sconces. He had then begun lighting them one at a time; when the first one was about to burn out, he would light the second. He had two more left and hoped it would last them until dawn.

Khushi looked at Arnav, who was busy replacing the almost burnt candle with a new one and thought of what had just transpired between them a few moments ago.

“Shhhh”, he comforted her not knowing what had caused to break down. She clung to him harder and cried some more. He gently caressed her hair, rubbing his palm in concentric circles on her head to calm her down.

“Mia cara,” he whispered and Khushi looked up at him, big black eyes filled with doubt and fear. He felt like a monster. He deserved to be called one. Her words from the long-ago fashion show echoed: “What if it had been your sister instead of mine?” He had dismissed it then. He couldn’t dismiss it anymore. And so Arnav Singh Raizada did the unthinkable. He held Khushi Kumari Gupta’s shoulders and gently kissed her forehead. “Sorry,” he said, in a barely audible whisper. And yet Khushi heard it. “Sorry for everything I put you through.”

****

Khushi had considerably calmed down and was now fidgeting with her hair. Every time she tugged on it, bob pins she had painstakingly used to keep her curls in place fell. Khushi either didn’t notice or didn’t care. But the growing mass of unruly curls was beginning to drive Arnav mad.

He looked at his phone once more. It had 15 percent battery and no reception. If he wanted his phone to work when they finally got out of this place, he would have to turn it off now.

With nothing better to do, Arnav decided to focus on the statue of Mother Mary holding baby Jesus. It was made out of white alabaster, beautifully carved. The emotions portrayed on her face somehow seemed both heavenly and earthly at the same time. The flickering candle flame gave her a serene aura, as she looked fondly upon her child, who she knew was the son of God. Did she know what the child would endure to free mankind from its sins? Did she know that her child would be betrayed by one of his own, for a mere thirty pieces of silver? Was she worried about the safety of her child after she departed for the heavenly abode? Perhaps, but none of that worry or concern was noticeable right now. All that was visible was her tremendous love for the child. It was as if she knew that the one thing that could protect her little baby was her true love and she endeavored to give him as much of it whilst he was still with her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”, said Khushi, snaking her hands through Arnav’s arm, and rubbing her palms together. October in Italy, stone walls and no fireplace was cold. “You can almost feel Mother Mary’s undiluted love for her child.”

Arnav looked at her, and back at the statue. “Mother’s are like that Khushi,” he whispered. “They do everything in their power to protect their child.” And as if his tongue had a mind of its own, he continued, “including giving up their life.”

Khushi stared at him, unable to comprehend the cryptic message and afraid to ask for more information. But if she had known him better, she would probably have noticed that lone teardrop he was fighting hard to keep within his eyes.

***

Time continued to pass. Nobody could tell what the time was or how much longer it would be before the sun rose. It seemed to stretch its reach in a bid to win some kind of battle. The poor angels who looked towards time felt sympathetic for the human. They begged and pleaded time to move fast, urged it along to bring on the new day. But time stood still. When all their pleas fell on deaf ears, the angels asked time for a reason. And time replied that it always moved at its own pace. The humans were the ones at war, wanting time to go fast and then slow, turn back or move forward according to their whims and needs. Why? Asked the angels. So they can prove their supremacy, stated time. Why? Asked the angels again. For I’m the only one who knows what has happened, what is happening and have the power to set things right.

****

The candle flame flickered once more, the dimensions of the white wax surrounding it growing by the minute. Arnav got up to replace the candle with the second last one. The stone-walled chapel was getting chilly and Khushi was fervently rubbing her hands against each other and against her feet in a bid to keep herself warm. Seeing her struggle, Arnav took his coat off and covered her with it. He then crouched next to her and proceeded to mimic her actions of not more than five minutes ago. Khushi looked at him and simply took his hands into hers and started rubbing them. Finding the deafening silence awkward, Khushi began, “ASR.” Her speech drew a chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

When she continued to pester, he simply stated, “After all that we’ve shared, calling me ASR seems like a farce.”

She smiled at that. It was true. She decided to end the farce.

“I accept.”

“What?”

“Your reasoning. From now on, I’ll call you Arnav.”

And he chuckled once more, a small dimple barely forming near his right chin. She almost wanted to reach out and kiss it right then and there. How had she not noticed it before?

“Because I hardly smile Khushi,” he stated as a matter of fact.

Wondering if she had spoken her thoughts aloud, she asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean the answer to your question. You were thinking about my faint dimple, weren’t you?”

She smiled a bit more. “You’re good at reading people’s thoughts.”

“I wish.”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t been able to figure you out. You intrigue me. I’m man enough to admit when I’m wrong and I’ve been wrong about you every step of the way.

“I thought you were illiterate, I was wrong. I thought I could scare you, I was wrong. I thought I could demean you, I was wrong. I thought I could hate you, I was wrong. I thought I could forget you, I was wrong. I have been wrong about you, every single time. And honestly, I’m tired of being wrong. So Khushi, if there is something going on between you and Aman, please tell me. It bothers me that I don’t know what to believe. But I promise you I will believe whatever you tell me.”

For a man who spoke so little, tonight, ASR had said quite a bit. Aman had told her that she was in love with Arnav, but if she had to get to him, she would have to exorcise him of ASR. She felt this would be a good time to start.

Patience was not one of Arnav’s virtues. And so he asked again, a little more forcefully. “Do you love Aman?”

“No.”

He exhaled, not knowing that he had held his breath in anticipation.

“Thank you,” he said genuinely.

“Wait, Arnav. I haven’t completely answered your question.”

When he raised his eyebrow in response, she continued: “I don’t love Aman, he is just a good friend, and yes my family has misunderstood my preference for him, but you should know that I am in love with someone else. My family doesn’t know about him as yet but I do plan to tell them once I get back home.”

The monster was back, rearing its head, blowing fire out of its mouth, ready to attack.

“Who?”

“I haven’t told him as yet and it’s unfair that I tell you before I confess my feelings to the man himself.”

Their friendship had just begun and it was already straying into unchartered territories.