Chapter 28

Khushi knocked softly, hoping it wasn't too late into the night. Her fear proved baseless for the door opened quickly to reveal a tired looking Arnav.

 

"Come in," he said, stepping aside to let her enter.

 

She walked into the room, her old room, and was immediately hit with a wave of nostalgia. Like the rest of the Raizada Mansion, even Arnav's room appeared not to have changed in the past two years. The walls remained bare, the bed neat and the recliner empty. Her eyes unwillingly flickered to adjoining poolside, where numerous plants rested silently, save for an occasional rustle of leaves in the wind.

 

"You are sleeping inside this time," murmured Arnav, who was carefully watching her.

 

Khushi turned to him, her face devoid of the sting she felt. "That doesn't change the six months I slept outside."

 

"I know," he said, the slightest of aches touching his handsome features. "I am sorry you were forced into staying here tonight… I told them not to."

 

"I don't blame them… hope is terrible feeling."

 

"But still better than being hopeless," he answered matter-of-factly. "Anyway, I promised you an easy stay. So, I will sleep in Varun's room and you can sleep here."

 

A line appeared on Khushi's forehead. "I thought Varun's room had a single bed."

 

"I'll manage."

 

And with that Arnav picked up the extra set of blankets on the bed and proceeded to leave, when Khushi's voice echoed through the room.

 

"If you are going to sleep on the floor, then I assure you, you can do that here as well."

 

He turned around, surprised to hear her suggestion. "You don't mind me here for the night?"

 

Khushi sighed and merely opened her suitcase to get her nightclothes. The truth was she herself didn't have an answer to his question. For some reason, his presence brought some kind of peace to her troubled mind.

 

When she arrived from the bathroom ready to sleep however, she was surprised to see Arnav settled on the recliner.

 

"Why are you sleeping there?" she blurted.

 

"Well, I didn't think you literally meant the floor… but if you did, then I'm happy to sleep there instead."

 

Khushi rolled her eyes. "I meant, why aren't you sleeping on the bed?"

 

"Because you are going to sleep there."

 

"No, I am the guest.You should sleep on the bed!"

 

"Exactly – you are the guest, you get priority."

 

"Look-"

 

"I am not budging for this Khushi, you are sleeping on the bed."

 

"Fine! Let's both sleep on the bed."

 

Arnav stared at her, an incredulous look passing over his face.

 

"We lived together for six months," Khushi said. "I'm sure we can survive one night on the same bed."

 

And ignoring his looks of hesitation, she crept into the covers, positioning herself on the far left of the bed. It wasn't long before Arnav followed suit, turning off the lights and lying down on her right, leaving a wide gap in between.

 

A strange silence gripped the room as Khushi was unwillingly confronted with Anjali's words. Sure she ran far from them as soon as she could, but how could she run from her mind and more so, her hopeful heart?

 

 

She understood the implication of those words clearly and yet, she couldn't believe it. While her conversation with Anjali did garner some sympathy, it in no way diminished her anger. As she fumingly told Payal that afternoon, the six months she was trapped were very much real, much more than any other phase of her life.

 

However, the more pressing matter was not the unbelievable truths Anjali uttered, it was that she no longer harboured the spite to lash out her rage as she did that morning, when she stepped foot into Shantivaan. It troubled her greatly that instead of fuming at the family that wronged her, she was worried for their well being. Or particularly of one man.

 

A sense of deja vu filled her mind, as she was once again forced to think about Arnav. He suffered in his life, perhaps more than her. While she was lucky enough to have Garima take her in so many years ago, he was shunned from his family. No mother to sing lullabies at night, no father to whisper words of encouragement. He was left with no one to depend on and grew up like that – alone. So did she really have the right to blame him for being heartless?

 

Yes… yes, you do, her conscience whispered, determined not to let her rage slip. He didn't trust you remember?

 

She couldn't agree wholeheartedly.

 

"Can I ask you something?" she said into the dark, knowing full well he was just as far from sleep as she.

 

Arnav didn't answer.

 

"Do we have to leave tomorrow?"

 

He was surprised to hear the question. "No… not if you don't want to."

 

"Can we stay one more day?"

 

"Khushi, what's wrong?"

 

"Nothing… can't I stay one more day?"

 

"You can stay as long as you want… but what changed your mind? Two days ago, you didn't want to even visit for a day."

 

It was her turn to not answer. How could she begin to explain the mess she dragged herself into? On one side was this family, who eagerly waited for her return, while on the other Ayesha, who trusted her not to leave. And then there was her own confused heart, which couldn't pick a side and more importantly him; what did he want?

 

"Can I ask you something else?"

 

Again, he chose not to answer.

 

"Why didn't you marry someone in these two years? Or at least find a girlfriend?"

 

"Why would I?" His tone was coloured with confusion.

 

"Why wouldn't you?"

 

"Because I'm already married."

 

Her breath caught in her throat as his words echoed through the room. "It was a contract…"

 

"I didn't find anyone in these two years, for the same reason you held on to that mangulsutra…"

 

And the same reason I kept his name, she added to herself. It didn't take much to add up what he meant, and yet, it was also true that he hurt her and he did it with pleasure.

 

"Then why did you do it? Why did you force me into that contract?"

 

"Because I thought I was doing the right thing…"

 

Khushi sat up with a start. "But that's my point – how did you even think it would be the right thing to do? How did you think ruining one person's life would fix another's?"

 

"I don't know," he said, also sitting up. Even though he couldn't see her face clearly in the dark, save for the moonlight flickering through the open window, he knew that it was etched in disappointment. "I didn't have the same upbringing as you did Khushi… my childhood was different."

 

There it was again – his past; so dark and murky that she couldn't even fathom its influence.

 

"Then tell me," she said finally. "Tell me what it was like."

 

Arnav took a long time to answer, debating whether to reveal the secrets he kept so preciously hidden. He knew her patience was dwindling as the night wore on, and after endless minutes, he decided to pay heed to his fluttering heart.

 

"My mother committed suicide because of my father, who couldn't bear the guilt and followed suit. I was stranded in a palace I used to call home with a sister caught in grief. I was fourteen when it happened."

 

And though his explanation was not foreign to her ears, she was overcome with a tide of pity. It didn't help that he used the same, matter-of-factly tone as his sister. It seemed that their grief was beyond words.

 

"By the time I came to Delhi," he continued. "I was a man, who had a house to run. A man who didn't have time for love or trust or relations… I cared only about deals. I know it's not an excuse for what I have done to you, but you have to understand that my thoughts were never wrong. They came from the right place."

 

"Why do you care what's right and what's wrong, when you follow neither to do what pleases you?"

 

"It didn't please me to hurt you Khushi," he retorted, with a detectable amount of anger in his voice. "And neither does it please me now to see you suffer with the scars I have given you."

 

"Then what does please you?"

 

To that Arnav had no answer, partly because he ignored his needs and wants for far too long to understand them now and partly because some portion of him knew, he was asking for the impossible.

 

"I wish I have answers to your questions," he finally said. "But I don't… I don't know why I did what I did, or why I am like what I am… but I have seen enough to know what I don't want to be like."

 

"And what is that?"

 

"I don't want to be my father…"

 

Arnav didn't elaborate, but Khushi knew the list also included Shyam, who in his eyes was no different from his father. And despite her resolve, she found herself regretting the words she uttered a few days ago.

 

Yeah you are not Shyam, but you were very close to being him. Sure you didn't control Di's life, but you controlled mine.

 

"You will never be like him," she whispered, her heart wrenching at the thought she compared him to the vile of a man, who played with lives as if they were toys. He was much, much better than that. "Not your father… not Shyam…"

 

He snorted. "You say that now… but when you wake up tomorrow, and remember everything you endured, you won't be so sure."

 

She didn't argue, a small part of her knowing that he had a point. Maybe he would never betray his wife, but he could destroy her in other ways that are much more terrible.

 

"What was it like?" she suddenly asked. "When you found out that Shyam and me…"

 

"When I misunderstood you and Shyam?" he corrected quietly.

 

She nodded.

 

"It was…" he began. It appeared, however, that there was no word to describe his torment. "I thought someone was playing a cruel joke on me… but I wasn't surprised because the joke has been going on for the last thirteen years."

 

"Didn't you want to come talk to me?" Her voice was hopeful.

 

"I did," he accepted. "But I couldn't… because I knew what your answer would be. Life has never been kind to me, so I didn't think it would start then."

 

Khushi said nothing, recollecting the words he uttered long ago in the boutique on a stormy night.

 

 

"It was torture in its purest form," he said, his voice distant as if trapped in a land of memories. "I couldn't not trust you… not when every fibre in me was screaming against it, but I knew that was wrong. And every time I would lose my resolve, I would think that my mom trusted her instincts more than logic and so did my sister… look where they ended up. I was torn between what was right and what should be right, you know?"

 

He looked at her, eyes full of hope that she understood his turmoil. And understand she did, despite all the conflictions she had against him.

 

"What did you think would happen after the six months were over?" she asked slowly, trying to add up the bits she gravely overlooked.  

 

"That he would change… that he would learn to love his child and wife."

 

And once again, Khushi couldn't help but remember Anjali's words.

 

 

It seemed that the both of them really did think the same way. Didn't she hope Shyam would learn to love his family, just like him? Wasn't that part of the reason she chose to remain quiet?

 

She shook her head slightly, before muttering, "We are such big idiots… Why did both of us trust him to have any humanity left?!"

 

Arnav was surprised to hear her tone.

 

"I mean, if he had any, wouldn't he have shown it by then?"

 

He didn't answer, and instead stared at her dismayed expression, barely visible in the dark. And without any warning, he burst into laughter.

 

"What?!"

 

"The ever so nice Khushi," he said, between fits of laughter. "Despising her own kindness? Oh, the irony!"

 

"Well," she snapped, not pleased to hear him laugh at her. "I not that stupid to drown in my own compassion forever!"

 

Knowing she was irritated, Arnav hiccupped himself back to seriousness. "Sorry," he apologized. "It's just that… things have been so serious lately and when you made what happened look like a stupid mistake, I couldn't help it."

 

"No," she said with a sigh. "You're right… one mistake, and look where it got us."

 

Silence fell about the room, as both of them settled into their thoughts.

 

"So tell me," he asked. "What it would be like if we weren't idiotic enough to believe Shyam?"

 

"Umm… I would be in Lucknow… helping Babuji with his halwai shop, Amma with the daily chores and probably annoying Buaji!" A giggle escaped her mouth as the imaginary events filled up her mind.

 

Arnav nodded, not missing the point that he was nowhere close to her happily ever after. Of course, he wasn't naive to not understand that he was the opposite of everything she wanted from life.

 

"And you?" Khushi asked. "What would your non-Shyam life be?"

 

Arnav shrugged. "Th-"

 

"Actually don't answer that," she interrupted. "I know what it would be like."

 

"Really?"

 

"Of course! Arnav Singh Raizada's perfect day starts with a morning jog, then a cup of black coffee, skipping breakfast for a meeting, yelling at poor employees, scolding Amanji for his non-existent mistakes and then coming back home to sleep only to get up and start all over again."

 

He didn't reply.

 

"Accurate isn't it? Only it's not imaginary – it happens everyday."

 

"Ouch!" he said, faking to be hurt. "Such bad opinions about me!"

 

"Who said I didn't have good opinions?"

 

"Ummm… have you met yourself? You hate me."

 

"I don't hate you… I just…"

 

"Just what?"

 

Khushi fell silent, not wanting to finish her sentence.

 

"I thought so," he muttered, misunderstanding her quiet.

 

"You think you are bad… and it's precisely that thought which makes you good."

 

He was quiet for a few moments before saying, "And that's your opinion?"

 

"My good opinion."

 

A sigh escaped his mouth. "I am not good… I am not the nice guy, Prince Charming or whatever you call it. And I'm not going to kid myself into believing that I am."

 

"How do you know that?"

 

"Because if I was, then I wouldn't have let you go."

 

She stared at him, her heart skipping a beat. "And if I didn't?," she whispered hopefully. "What would have happened?"

 

Arnav took a deep breath. How many times did he ponder about the alternative route his life would have taken if he followed his heart that night on the terrace? Innumerable times and yet, even as she watched him, expectant for an answer, he couldn't tell her. It was too unrealistic to be believable.

 

"We probably would have been married… on a contract and Shyam would be still playing with our lives."

 

Khushi's heart fell. And even as disappointment filled her, she couldn't help but wonder why his response was so surprising. Did she really think he would like her the way she liked him, Shyam or no Shyam?

 

"So it's a good thing I left then," she said quietly.

 

The finality of her words descended, as both of them understood their resolves. She couldn't forgive him because there was no future down that path and he wouldn't change her mind because he knew he didn't deserve her.

 

Fate really was cruel at times.

 

And yet, even as they both settled back into the covers, ready to welcome the peace dreams offered, Khushi was certain of a few things. She was certain that Arnav had suffered a terrible life, and his marriage with her tore him apart like it did her. She was certain that she no longer despised him for no matter how much rage she possessed, it was nothing compared to his fury at himself. And lastly, she was certain that after everything that had come to pass, he was still capable of love.

 

The only thing she was uncertain of was if that love included her.