Chapter 55: Tied

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Chapter Fifty-Five

Tied

For as long as Arnav could remember, his birthday had always been a blast.

Perhaps because being the youngest of the house mandated him to be endlessly pampered. His mother and two elder sisters lived up to that responsibility brilliantly, leaving no stone unturned in making the day special, sometimes even starting as early as a month before in preparations. The most memorable birthday Arnav had with them was his eighth, where Anjali and Lavanya organized a Batman themed party in sync with his ‘superhero’ phase. It had been an instant hit amongst his friends, so much so that Arnav had even kept his costume –identical to the original Batman’s– safely in a box underneath his bed back home, which Satya to date has not discarded. 

Eventually, of course, he outgrew the superhero parties. By the time Arnav was in his teens, the celebrations shifted from Shantivaan to weekend getaways with his cousins. They all insisted on surprising him each year, sometimes showing up at midnight with cake and balloons and other times making a ridiculous montage of his utmost embarrassing videos. The most over-the-top birthday had been his sixteenth, when they threw a barbeque party themed around… him. Starting from the t-shirts they all sported to the balloons, plastic cups, plates and even the cake in the end: all of them had a picture of Arnav’s face stamped boldly across. It was hilarious! 

These extravagant festivities, as expected, took a backseat when he started dating Myra, who insisted on spending the day together. Arnav enjoyed those too, often being surprised by her planning. His favorite, by far, had been his twenty-fifth, when she arranged a trail of twenty-five clues for him to solve and arrive at a then newly opened restaurant he wanted to try, but couldn’t get a reservation, for dinner. 

And so, over the years, it really wasn’t surprising that Arnav had grown to expect copious amounts of attention on his birthday. Imagine his utter disappointment then, when this year, he received none. 

In fact, his birthday was going on like any other ordinary day. He woke up to a clear, cloudless day, made breakfast –French toast today– as per routine and was now sitting out on the balcony, having it with a completely ignorant Khushi. The only small mercy was that her shift began at 12 p.m., so instead of scarfing down food as though she was going to miss a train, Khushi was actually sitting down with him, reading the day’s newspaper, a cup of coffee in hand. 

It was bizarre. 

Arnav had stayed up until 1 a.m. expecting his ever-excited family to barge in at any moment with a surprise party. When that didn’t happen, he woke up early expecting to find a very long apology from at least his sisters for not even calling him. That too, didn’t happen. And as if to rub salt on his wounds, Khushi was acting utterly clueless, pretending as if it was just another Tuesday. But of course, with her, he couldn’t get himself to be mad. As far as he could recollect, the two of then never sat down and discussed birthdays, so how on earth was she supposed to know? 

She was excused; his family, most definitely, wasn’t.

As the morning trickled by in silence, the only thing Arnav could do was console himself, thinking perhaps, it was all for the best. Hadn’t he outgrown the crazy, blackout parties yet? Why did he need an elaborate surprise to know that he was loved and cherished? Vowing to not get bogged down over something so silly, he turned his attention to Khushi. 

“It’s a beautiful day,” he commented, hoping to catch her interest. 

She didn’t even look up from the newspaper. “Yeah… it is.”

“Why don’t we go out for dinner tonight?”

Her eyes were still very much trained on the stupid news. “Why? Anything special today?”

Before he could answer, Arnav’s phone began to buzz incessantly with incoming messages. He animatedly picked up his phone to see several greetings. 

He opened Lavanya’s first, who wished him happy birthday with a very cute gif, before explaining (in detail) that she spent the night with her sick mother-in-law and so, couldn’t call at midnight. Next was Anjali’s, who sent him a very touching and thoughtful video of the kids at the orphanage wishing him happy birthday. The third message was from his parents, who wished him together, asking –with a lot of emojis for added effect– how he celebrated at midnight with Khushi. 

And that’s when it hit him, the real reason they all avoided wishing him until now: they wanted to give him and Khushi privacy, for it was, after all, his first birthday after the wedding.

Arnav felt idiotic for assuming they didn’t remember. 

“What are you smiling about?” came Khushi’s voice.

Arnav looked up from his phone. “Err nothing,” he said after a moment of deliberation. 

Enlightening her about his birthday seemed both embarrassing and too last minute to be a good thing. She would one hundred percent stew in guilt first, for not knowing, second for not wishing him and third for not planning anything ‘special’. It was all unnecessary. What Arnav wanted from her was not an elaborate surprise –he had enough of those to last a lifetime– but more or less what he already had: sharing a morning cup of coffee, exchanging a few amusing texts throughout the day, having dinner together and perhaps, taking a walk in their favorite park at night. 

Like a flash, memory of a time bygone rang in his ears.

I want a family Arnav! How many more ways can I say it to you?! I made it clear since day one that I want to settle down, that I want to have a house and kids and just a normal life – didn’t we talk about that for years?! About that perfect flat we would buy? About that morning cup of coffee we would have together? About driving together for work? How could you forget all that?!

How ironical was it that the life Myra had wanted, the very dream they had broken up over, was now the life he was living? And perhaps even more ironical than that, was the fact that neither him nor Khushi aspired for this peace. It just happened. Both of them came to an understanding about their situations and accepted them... maybe that’s why Myra and he were always doomed to begin with. She didn’t have the patience and he, the maturity, to wait. 

But with Khushi, it was different. With Khushi, things were sorted. With Khushi, there were no complications. With Khushi, there was happiness. 

“You’re quite busy today,” Khushi commented, when his phone went off once again with birthday wishes, this time it was his extended family. 

Arnav grinned. “It’s just work... what’s going on in the world?”

She folded up the newspaper with a sigh and set it on the table, along with her now empty coffee mug. “Nothing interesting. How’s your leg?”

The irritating cast on his left leg had finally come off yesterday, when he had gone in for a check-up with his family doctor (Ved apparently only treated emergency cases). Although his fracture had mostly healed, most of the muscles in his calf had weakened due to immobility, so he was given a walking stick to help alleviate some of the stress and a heavy prescription of physiotherapy, which if followed correctly, should let him regain full strength within three weeks. 

“My leg is enjoying fresh air,” he answered drily. “Now that it’s out of jail.”

“You need to do those exercises every day–” 

She broke-off when his phone buzzed yet again, this time with an incoming call. It was his brother-in-law, Shyam, who wished him ‘happy birthday’ and requested him to come into the office to look over the final floor plan of the mall they were constructing. 

“You sure?” Arnav asked, wondering why his physical presence was needed when for the past week they have been managing through online meetings. 

“Yeah, it’s just easier to explain in person,” Shyam said. “I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important. It is your birthday after all…”

“No, it’s fine. I will be there in an hour.”

And he disconnected the call. 

“I have to run to the company,” he told a curious Khushi. “I will be back soon.”

Khushi, expectedly, frowned. “You’re recovering–”

“I know. But it’s urgent. Jeejaji wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t.”

She pursued her lips, unhappy. “How are you going to go? You can’t drive yet.”

“The driver will drop me off,” Arnav said, thinking it over for a split second. “And then will come back to drop you off at the hospital.”

“Why make it so complicated? I will take a taxi today–”

Arnav snorted. “As if. The driver will drop you off, don’t stress.”

“I’m not stressing, you are–”

“I wouldn’t be if you didn’t suggest letting a complete stranger drive you.” Arnav paused, sudden inspiration overtaking him. “Actually, why don’t you learn driving?”

Khushi was surprised with the suggestion. “You’re joking?”

“I’m serious,” he said, wondering why on earth he didn’t think of this before. “Why don’t you learn driving? You won’t need to depend on a driver, and I won’t need to panic.”

She pondered that for a brief minute, before clasping her hands and saying: “Okay… but then what will you do?”

Arnav didn’t follow. 

“Once you grow out of being a full-time cripple, you will need another profession, won’t you?” she asked seriously. 

She was pulling his leg. 

Rolling his eyes, Arnav stood up, using his cane for support. “Hilarious Dr. Gupta.”

She gasped dramatically. “So, you won’t drive me around? You will leave this poor doctor to fend for herself?”

Arnav’s heart dropped infinitesimally upon catching her –mock– frightened expression. Why did she insist on being so adorable? 

“I’m more than happy to be your chauffer,” he assured her. “But a driver’s license is actually very useful. I will find you an instructor asap.”

“Or,” she suggested, looking down at her feet and unnecessarily tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You can teach me.”

Of course! Why didn’t he think of that?! 

“Done.”

Khushi beamed in response, her eyes –glinting strikingly against the sunlight– meeting his. And all Arnav wanted to do at that point, was keeping looking into them, the meeting be damned! What was about these sudden, fleeting moments of enchantment? Why did they make him her prisoner, his heart her throne and his soul her crown? 

Arnav wished he had answers. 

He still hadn’t made head or tails of that odd moment last week in the middle of her celebration dinner when their hands briefly touched, and a jolt of current passed through him. Or the time during Holi, when his heart took off upon feeling her cheek on his. This was attraction like he had never seen or understood before. This was attraction that consumed him, attraction that impressed him, attraction that liberated him. 

Attraction that he never wanted to end. 

He unwillingly blinked, turning away from her. “I’ll go change,” he murmured, feeling too flustered for comfort. 

She nodded in understanding. 

Arnav felt quite strange getting dressed for work. He had grown so used to living in sweatpants and t-shirts that the three-piece Burberry black suit felt almost claustrophobic. He was just searching through his closet drawers for a matching tie, when he realized that his favorite one –a silver blue filigree design, gifted by Lavanya two years ago– was missing. 

Arnav racked his brains, trying to recollect when he wore it last. 

“Khushiiii,” he called, realizing he had kept it aside for dry cleaning before his accident. 

She was at the door in less than a minute. “What’s wrong?”

“Did you see my tie?”

She gingerly walked in. “Which one?”

“The silverish one,” he explained. “I left it in the laundry room for dry cleaning.”

Realization dawned. “Oh,” she said, walking past him to the cupboard. “I got it cleaned and kept it here.”

She reached for the bottom drawer and pulled out the tie in question. 

“Thanks,” Arnav muttered relieved, reaching for it.

She –unpredictably– withdrew her hand, pulling back the tie from the tips of his fingers with a knowing smile. “May I?” she asked politely. 

That was a first. 

“Err… sure,” Arnav said, turning to fully face her and squaring his shoulders in added precaution. 

Khushi giggled. “Relax, I’m not doing sutures.”

“Sutures?”

“Stitches for a wound,” she explained, stepping close to him and stretching out her –rather steady– hands to gently pull up his collar and loop the tie around his neck. 

Arnav took a deep breath, feeling his heartbeat speed up a little with the proximity. She was wearing checkered grey ankle pants and an airy white blouse tucked neatly around her slender waist today. Although it wasn’t a saree, it nonetheless complimented her very well, making it even harder to draw himself away. 

“Is white your favorite colour?” he asked, wanting a distraction from the static pounding in between them. 

She glanced at him for only a second, before looking back down to the knot she was working on. “How did you know?”

He reached up to gently tug on one of her bouncy sleeves. “You wear it all the time.”

“You notice what I wear?” she asked, hiding her smile.

“Hard not to.”

“Why?”

Arnav shrugged, vaguely wondering if he said too much. “Why do you like white so much?”

She took a pause before replying: “It’s the colour of a doctor’s coat.”

“You mean your white coat?”

She nodded in affirmative. 

Interesting. 

Arnav had never thought about it like that. He always assumed she liked white because it was pure, whole and unblemished much like her need for perfection. But her own reasoning was so simple and straight. 

“So then, what was your favorite colour before you were a doctor?” he asked curiously. 

Khushi mulled that over, her forehead folding in concentration. “Don’t really remember,” she concluded. “I wanted to be a doctor for so long.”

Unable to help himself, he blurted: “You should consider red for a favorite colour.”

“Red?”

“You’ll look good in red.”

Khushi stared at him, completely taken by wonder. “You think so?”

He nodded, having no idea why he was speaking without a filter today, saying the first things that came to his mind. Quite honestly, it didn’t matter if she wore red or white; she would always look beautiful.  

Having finished with the knot, Khushi gently pulled the end of the tie, securing it safely at the base of his throat. “All done,” she murmured, folding down his collar. 

Arnav hobbled over to the mirror to take a look. It was a flawless finish, undoubtedly better than what he could’ve done. He always struggled with tie knots –despite his mother’s efforts to simplify it– but perhaps, he didn’t have to anymore.

“What?” Khushi asked, watching him nervously. “Did I do it wrong?”

He shook his head. “Not at all… I think you’ve just earned yourself a job as my full-time tie stylist.”

“Tie stylist?”

“Running a bit short on time here,” he answered, slipping on his watch. “It will have to do until I find a better title.”

Khushi chuckled. “And what is my salary, may I ask?”

What could he possibly give her? She had everything already, including every last grain of his attention.

“Another round of tapas?” he offered. 

She crossed her arms, pleased. “Done. Now, get going Mr. Chef– Jeejaji must be waiting.”

Arnav smiled. 

Fixing his hair and collecting his wallet, he left the penthouse for the first time that day feeling happy that there was no commotion whatsoever for his birthday. Even the craziest of surprises from his family did not match up to the normalcy Khushi brought him. 

Every day was special with her, so what more could his birthday mean, anyway? 

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A/N: Apologies for being half a day late, I fell asleep editing last night 😅

Thank you for all the wonderful comments to the last chapter, enjoyed reading them ❤️❤️❤️

What did you think of this one?

Archi

P.S. - Next chapter will be up on Tuesday night, have a good weekend