Chapter 42

"I don't know," she repeated blankly.

"Don't go, then," he pleaded.

When she looked at him, his eyes were full. Not just with pain, but with tears and fear. She felt her own eyes sting. How could she leave this man? She loved him with every atom in her body. Going away, leaving him would be like tearing herself apart.

"I have to go," she whispered, a sob breaking her voice. Already her heart was hurting with every beat it took. But she steeled herself and stood up.

"Khushi..." He watched her get up with bewilderment. Each breath was a torture. As much as he understood this was right, he didn't want her to go. He would just die. He had to stop her. "I will die, Khushi!"

Her eyes were glazed with tears as she looked away. "You won't."

Arnav sighed and got to his feet too. "Look if you want me to stop seeing my mother, I'll do it. If you want me to be home with you more often, I'll do it. If you want to fight with me or beat me up, just do it, dammit, but don't leave me! You can refuse to talk to me but don't go so far away, Khushi, please!"

"Arnav! You had just agreed to my point!"

Exasperated, he ran a hand in his hair. "I know! I understand your point, but this is much more easier to say than to do, Khushi. You tell me! Will you be able to do this? Will you be able to stay so far away from me?"

A tear spilled on her cheek. "Arnav, I-"

"Fine," he breathed tonelessly. She saw his eyes slowly turn cold. "Go. But if you want to go, Khushi. I'll have a condition too."

She stared at him, unable to speak. Instead, she clutched his hand tight and he squeezed it back. His face contorted with pain as he closed his eyes, making more tears escape from her eyes.

"If you go, there should be absolutely no contact between us. For a year. No phone calls, no emails, nothing. Not even a freaking letter or postcard. Do you agree?"

"Why?" she whimpered. He opened his eyes with a wounded smile and she frowned. "If this is a stratagem of yours to stop me from going, then it's not going to work, Arnav Singh Raizada!"

He raised her hand to his lips. "I know," he said against her skin. "I'm not trying to stop you. It's to stop myself. One phone call from you, I'll leave everything to come and see you. And I'm pretty sure you won't be happy with that. I don't want to upset you, so, you'll have to promise me that. Can you do this?"

She nodded slowly and he kissed her forehead rapidly. "Go now," he gently nudged her away. "Go before I change my mind."

Khushi sniffed and wiped her face. "You will be okay?"

"Just go, I'm perfectly fine!"

She bit into her lip hard. "I can see that... I'm so sorry..."

"I should be the sorry one," he shook his head. "Go away, Khushi, or I'll... I'll hug you so tight you won't even be able to think of going. Go!"

She tugged her bag away reluctantly, staring at his face. She saw his attempt to smile in order to reassure her but the pain was so evident. He took one step back and her heart shattered. There was a small explosion in her chest, and before she knew, she had left her handbag where it was and she was running to him.

Her arms were wrapped around his neck within an instant and she had pressed her lips against his. She felt him freeze in her embrace and pulled away awkwardly. His eyes were wide open and his lips parted with shock. Khushi felt the colour rush up her cheeks and lowered, her eyes, releasing him, only to be drawn back in.

His lips met hers fervently, parting them with a hunger she couldn't describe. His arms were holding her firmly against him while her hands tugged him as close as she could. He captured her lower lip between his teeth, nipped and bit gently until she opened up to him. His tongue slid in her mouth, reducing her brain to numb mush. Heat pooled low in her belly. Hell, if she had known kissing was so good, she would have kissed him ages ago. He released her only to surface for air.

"What the hell was that for?" Arnav panted.

She smiled, her palm pressing into his cheeks. "I don't know."

He groaned and kissed her again, harder this time. He lifted his head with a pained expression. "Why are you doing this to me, Khushi?"

"I just-"

"Please. Go."

A tear streaked down her cheek and she hugged him tight. He hugged her tighter. "I love you," she murmured. "Take care of yourself. Eat and go to sleep on time. I won't be there to look after you, Mr Raizada. You need to know that your work should not kill you! If you let anything happen to you, I swear I'll breach our little deal and come back to kill you myself!"

He chuckled. "Do you want me never to let go of you, Miss Gupta? Because if you tell me not to, I won't. Then you can stay here and mother me all you want?"

She pulled away, sulking, and swatted his chest. "I hate you!"

"I love you too. Get lost!" She laughed tearfully as he turned her around and pushed her. "Go and let the guy grow up."

***

His eyes closed in defeat as soon as he recognised the voice on the other end. "What do you want?"

"Arnav, where are you? Can you give the phone to Khushi?"

"Why?"

There was a sigh, then a stretch of silence laden with guilt. "I don't know if she told you... I had come by the other day and... I said some bad things to her... things I shouldn't have said... I just want to tell her I'm sorry! I really am!"

He sighed and clenched his jaws together. "Why did you do that?"

"I was worried for you, Arnav! I thought... I thought she was... Please, let me talk to her. I want to say sorry."

He chuckled drily, humourlessly. "It's too late."

"Too late? What do you mean?"

"It's too late," he told her evenly, feeling the pain in his gut expand. "She has already left."

"Arnav-"

"Thank you for your concern, Varsha. But I would like you to stay away from my life now onwards," Arnav thundered before hanging up.

The phone was thrown violently on the floor. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his armchair. It had been barely one week since she had left and it felt like eons since he had last seen her. His condition had made things harder because he had no way of knowing how she was. But he was also aware that he would follow her if she reached out to him.

The pen in his hand snapped into two due to the pressure he had been applying, slashing open a gash in his hand. But he felt nothing. It was nothing compared to the ache inside him. How would he survive this one year he had himself imposed?