Chapter 40

She sighed, snuggling deeper in the bed. It smelled of him. Cautiously, she opened her eyes, not quite sure of how she had reached in his room, in his bed. He was not there. She glanced at the clock. It was eight, he must have already left. She raised herself on her elbow with a yawn, then sat up as the bitter memory of her conversation with Varsha rose in her mind. Suddenly, Khushi felt irritated.

Still groggy, she got up and crossed the hall to her room, only to find Arnav there, he back turned to her so that he was watching outside, through the large glass wall that panelled that side of the flat. He was wearing an old white shirt over a pair of dark blue jeans, talking on his BlackBerry. She stopped to stare at him quizzically. He appeared to be angry, judging the way he was shooting orders on the phone. What had happened?

"Fine!" he barked abruptly, making her jump. He turned on his heels right then and saw her. His frown did not evaporate, but it did change from fury to worry. He strode to her grimly. "How are you?"

She nodded silently and noticed the muscles in his jaw clench. "Go have a bath, eat and then come see me in the study. We need to talk," he growled, his voice dangerously low as he walked away from her. She felt her heart thump like crazy.

***

"Arnav?" she called softly. He was sitting in the armchair behind his desk, his head thrown back with exhaustion and his eyes shut. He didn't look up when she said his name. Khushi frowned with anxiety. Had Varsha told him something? About their previous conversation? She bit her lip and mentally willed him to look at her.

She took a few steps in and that did it. His head snapped up and he glared at her, making her freeze. She wasn't sure she had ever seen him this irate before. He slid out of the chair to stand before his desk, motioning her to sit in the one right in front of him. Slightly scared by the radical change in his behaviour, she did as she was bid mutely.

"Now, will you tell me what had happened to you yesterday?" he asked evenly, but the anger on his face was obvious.

"You didn't go to work?" she managed to squeak.

He pounded his fist on the wooden desk-top, causing her to jump again. "Answer me dammit!" he yelled. But almost instantly, he saw her expression cloud with fear, and pain reflected on his face. He raked a hand through his hair, inhaling with a sharp hiss.

"Look, Khushi," he breathed, his tone a bit calmer. "I'm having a lot of trouble. The company is going through difficult times. And yes, I didn't go to work despite everything, because when I got home yesterday, you were really very upset. And I won't be able to concentrate until I know what made you cry. Please, I don't need anything more to worry about. Now will you tell me what had happened?"

Her eyes welled up but she shook her head without speaking. Arnav knelt down on one knee beside her and clasped his hands around her wrists.

"Please, Khushi," he spoke his voice softer. He tried to make her look at him but she stared at her fingers obstinately. His mood, already made volatile by the sudden complications that had risen in his company, burst into flames and he released her to push himself back on his feet.

"Fine! Don't tell me!" he growled, annoyance dripping from the words. He was storming towards the door when Khushi stood up too, fuelled by an unknown force by equally ignited her temper, pushing the chair back so violently that it toppled over with a loud clatter. He turned around to see her seething.

"What do want me to say?" she hissed. It felt like all the irritation and anger she had amassed in her since all this time because of him, his work, his mother and everything else was gushing out without stopping. "That your mother is such a selfish cow? That she came here yesterday to insult me? That she just wants to take advantage of you?"

"Khushi!" he roared, his eyes wide with rage. "Shut. The. Hell. Up."

She sneered coldly as a tear made its way down her cheek. "Can't bear it, can you? Well, I have had enough too, Arnav! Your mother doesn't like me, she hates me! She insulted me in the worst possible way, yesterday. Do you want to know what she said? She said I love your money! Do you have any idea how hurt I was to hear something like that? No! You just don't see, you're too blinded by love for her! Why? She doesn't love you, Arnav!"

He instantly gripped her upper arms tightly, his teeth clenched together. "What do you know? What do you know about how things really are?"

"I know, because I open my eyes and see what's happening, much unlike you!" she yelled back.

"Listen to me carefully," he gritted out. "I don't care what she thinks about, but I never let her speak of you in a wrong way in front of me. What she does behind my back is not our business, okay? Get that inside your head, Khushi, and please, don't try to badmouth my mother in front of me!"

With a single brutal shrug, she freed herself and glared back at him, more hurt that ever by his words. So, he didn't care about what his own mother said to her and about her? What was her meaning in his life then? More tears streamed down her face.

"I am not trying to badmouth your mother, Arnav," Khushi hiccupped. "I'm just trying to make you see the truth. She doesn't want you for the things you want her to. She doesn't love you because you are her son. She is not proud of you, she doesn't care for you, she feels nothing for you! Why can't you accept it?"

Arnav turned away from her with a heavy sigh and raked his fingers through his hair as he stalked furiously towards the door. "Khushi, this conversation is over!"

"No, it's not over! It won't be over until you understand what I'm trying to tell you! How the hell can you be so blind?"

"Shut up!" he snarled, stopping at the door. His eyes were blazing with madness. She was breathing hard but without any regret. They glared at each for minutes before he sighed again and grasped the knob to open the door.

"Taking you to New York with me was the worst mistake of my life," he muttered.

He stormed out. Khushi's knees buckled under her and she found herself on the floor of his study, crying her broken heart out...

***

It was only the following night that he found the courage to return to the apartment. Otherwise he had stayed in his office. Work had been stressful and he had had to sacrifice a lot of time to bring it back on its tracks. The investors had been successfully bagged despite the potential unsaid threat of losing them. He was dead tired and acutely hungry. He couldn't even remember when he had last had a decent meal.

But that wasn't the only reason he had stayed away from the apartment. He had been avoiding Khushi too. Arnav staggered in the elevators, his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He leaned back against the cool metal wall, his eyes closed, hoping it would absorb his tiredness. He didn't want to fight with her, he didn't want to discuss his mother or anything else with her. He just wanted to be with her, like they used to before, in London. It had been so easy-going and playful back then, with no complications.

And seriously, how could she even think that Varsha's words mattered? What others thought about their relationship did not have the least importance, dammit! He knew why she loved him and how much, and it went the other way round too, wasn't that enough? It was for him. Why care about someone else's opinion? He couldn't possibly change the way others saw things, right? What mattered, the only thing that could matter was them... nothing else...

The loud ping made him open his eyes. The doors slid open and he strolled out lazily. If talking about his mother's attitude and opinion of her was so important to her, then he would concede. Even if it hurt him. He would do anything for her. Because even if didn't go inside her thick head, he loved her more than himself. If only she knew what he had gone through when she had cried herself to sleep in his arms the other day...

He held himself against the wall and rang the doorbell. His eyelids were drooping. No one answered. He rang it again. Still nothing. Damn!

It was the same story every time she got angry. She simply refused to open the door. Khushi Kumaari Gupta was so full of childishness. He smiled softly as he felt his pockets for the keys, trying to think of a way to calm her down so that they could talk calmly about their differences, mainly, his mother, and he opened the door.

Eerie silence and gloom welcomed him. The apartment was cold and pitch black. His heart pounding, he snapped the lights on. Shit! What had the silly woman done?

He ran to her room. It was empty. No. He threw open the closet door. Empty. f**k, no! His feet retreated until he felt the back of his legs touch her bed. He let himself fall down into a sitting position, his eyes wide and dry as he stared at the glaring emptiness, his weariness vanished, his ears ringing. He felt the slap hard in the face.

His Khushi was gone...