Arhi FF: Retribution (part 11 updated pg 55) - Page 8

"It's because I love him!" she sobbed uncontrollably.

He stood, his feet glued to the floor. His steely gaze bore into her trembling, hysterical form. Khushi wasn't facing him. She had collapsed onto her knees in front of the door but he could see her bury her face in her hands, guilty tears streaming down her face uncontrollably; anymore, and she would be sure to faint if her flushed complexion was anything to go by. He tensed. Why had it come to this?

"Khushi-" he began, his voice barely audible. He bit back his speech as quickly as he had uttered it though. Clenching his fists, he realised he was still positively fuming. Anything he said now would purely make matters worse. He needed a time out. Arnav stormed over to the door, bypassing Khushi's fragile form. He simply stood, not facing her, waiting for her to move out of the way so he could open the door.

"Move," he spat out more harshly than he intended. Khushi's heavy eyes opened instantaneously, she hadn't realised when he even made it to the door! She desperately took in deep breaths in an effort to compose her self. He surely hated her right now but she needed to explain-so many things needed talking over...

"Arn-Arnavji listen to me," she said her voice trembling.

BAM! She looked up, startled with the sudden loud noise. What she saw made the colour drain from her face. Arnav was bent over, his concealed face resting against the door, his bloody fist supporting his visibly exhausted form.

"Please...just move," he pleaded in such a feeble voice, that Khushi had to mentally pinch herself in order to believe this man-this broken man- in front of her was Arnav Singh Raizada. That rakshaas. Her husband. Khushi felt absolute fear slowly creep onto her.

"Please Arnavji-your hand. Let me treat it-"

"MOVE!" His voice shook her and she unconsciously stumbled backwards. In a split second, she heard the door slam and he was gone before she even had the chance to lift her head off the floor.

The hotel room was filled with eerie silence. It symbolised their lives-empty. That was the final straw; he would never want to see her again. Khushi collapsed back down onto floor and scrunched up into a ball, silent tears streaming down her face as she fell into unconsciousness.

Khushi awoke to a pounding headache and disorientation as she tried to figure out where she was. She jumped up when she finally realised, seconds later, that she was huddled on the floor. A bad move on her part, she realised, as she clutched at her head, the hammering only intensifying. She felt like death.

She looked around the room but it was just as she left it. She tried desperately to spot any sign of him but he had obviously not returned. She sighed in dismay. Of course he isn't coming you idiot! Despite herself, terror gripped her at the thought of where he may be. If she knew Arnav and she did, he would be dangerously drowning his woes in intoxication right now.

Khushi flinched in pain, as the hammering got worse, threatening to split her head in two. Water and sugar. That's what she needed. She tried to support herself up but her weak shaky legs were having none of it. She let out a yelp of exasperation. Resigned, she settled with crawling to the bedside table, to the phone.

"Hello, yes this is Mrs Raizada. I would like to place an order for room service. What sweet dishes do you do?...Yes, could I have a please of gulab jamun please...Room 219...Quickly. Yes thank you...wait," she hesitated and gulped before continuing, her voice shaky. "Is Mr Raziada in the hotel?...oh I see...no it's ok. I'll go and see him later on...yes thank you."

She plopped the phone down and sighed. She was right; he was drowning his sorrows. Her fear resided slightly with the thought that at least he was still in the hotel though. After several failed attempts at trying to heave herself onto the bed, she finally succeeded. Khushi lied back, massaging her throbbing temples, trying to calm her nerves. Her whole body ached.

She involuntary thought back to Arnav's bloody hand. The same fist he had used to punch Uday in the face earlier. Uday-that word rung in her ears. She mentally kicked herself.

How could she be so stupid, she did not know. She honestly had never intended to hurt Arnav, no matter how unhappy their marriage had been. Five years back, she had entered this marriage with so much hope, so much expectation, so much trepidation. At that time, the nineteen-year old Khushi had naively not thought of the marriage as forced, thinking her parents had probably known what was best for her. But a lot had changed over the five years. She had matured far ahead of her time. Unwillingly she had become bitter, filled with so much resentment. She loved her parents dearly but she could not forgive them for the unhappiness they had thrust upon her. Throwing her, a mouse, into the lion's cage...into the rakhaas' cage.

Khushi jolted. Feeling dizzy, she made her way to the bathroom in a hurry. She knelt, and threw all of her troubles into the toilet. Feeling quite out of it and as disgusting as ever, she glanced into the mirror. She looked a dreadful sight. Her eyes swollen and red, her hair in complete disarray. Khushi did not even recognise herself.

Bringing her hands to her face, she felt her flushed cheeks. "Have I always been this ugly? What's happened to you Khushi?"

No- Khushi was no longer Khushi, the epitome of innocence she was five years prior. She was now a broken woman. Yet, who could she blame? Arnav had certainly been part of it. No matter how hard she tried, he was never satisfied with her. All those young girls' dreams she had held of her Prince Charming. She laughed at her naivety. All those nights of her waiting up in expectation for her husband, only for him to stumble in drunk and disregard her presence. She had slowly come to realise that her efforts were in vain; it started to sink in those gifts were never going to be for her. Their marriage would never be one of love. They shared one bed yet it wasn't a connection. They satisfied their needs but it was empty, it wasn't a connection. Yet, why was it that in the moments where she had seen his caring side, she found she had involuntarily allowed herself to scarcely hope as she ever did before. Staring at the mirror, Khushi smirked at how stupid she had been. Khushi Kumari Raizada had accepted that this was all she was ever going to get.

Until, of course Uday had come along a year ago. He had been a childhood friend. He had entered her life, a breath of fresh air. A way to escape the lion's den. He told her he loved her, the very words her ears had been longing to hear. He had shown her a life outside the prison and she had jumped at the chance, leaving her life as she knew it behind. Thinking now, Khushi did not know what possessed her to do it. When had she become so daring? She thought back to when she told Arnav she loved Uday. She herself did not know whether it was true, she did not know what she felt for Uday. Was it the love she felt for a friend or something more? The fact was she had never experienced love to know what it felt like.

Khushi looked at the purplish bruises on her arms, she grabbed at them, as a solitary tear escaped her eyes with the sheer pain. He had beat her. She hated him. He had hurt her yet why did she still feel something for him?

And Arnav, why had he come today? They had never been in contact over the past year. She had thought he would have been happy with her gone. But he had come to find her, he was furious to find her shaking in pain' Khushi scrounged her mind for reason. How had the two men switched roles? How did the rakhaas turn into the saviour? Who could she believe now?

"Arnavji where are you?" cried the helpless creature.

There was a knock on the door. Khushi's breath hitched, allowing herself to momentarily hope. Her face deflated as she heard the distant calling of "Room Service".

Arnav stumbled into the room, his eyes heavy with intoxication. He tried to tentatively close the door but ended up slamming it anyway. Khushi woke up with a start and jolted up in bed.

As soon as she saw him, her eyes clouded with tears. "You're back."

He glanced at her relieved face quickly before giving a curt nod and heading to the wardrobe to hang up his jacket. Gruffly, he slurred, "Of course I'm back."

"You're drunk."

"Yes Inspector Clouseau."

Khushi pouted. He was back to being regular old, annoyingly sarcastic, ASR.

"Have you eaten?" Silence prevailed. He closed the wardrobe door, sighing. He still didn't turn round to look at her though, Khushi noted.

"Khushi, go to sleep."

"But have you eaten?"

"Don't worry about me." He made to grab a bathrobe, obviously indicating he was headed in the direction of the bathroom and that she should just shut up. She also noted that he had not tended to his hand.

Khushi folded her arms and furrowed her brows. What did he mean by giving her attitude at this time? "What do you mean by "don't worry about me"? Of course I'm worried. You stroll in drunk at-" she glanced at the clock beside her quickly, "at two o'clock in the morning and in no state to stand, let alone take a shower I might add. Look I'll order some food, you just sit down. You'll have a huge hangover tomorrow otherwise. And your hand is still bloody, you need to treat-"

Khushi was stopped in her tracks by an angry Arnav storming towards her. In an instant, he was clutching her wrists with all his might, glaring at her with such visible rage it made her head spin. Her eyes widened in terror.

"I said DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME!" he spat. "Don't you understand anything?"

Khushi did not speak, nor move. Instead, she matched his angry glare, trying with all her resolve to not break. They stayed like this for some time. Khushi only blinked when she saw tears well up in his eyes. It tug at her heartstrings.

"Arnav." She wanted to reach out and wipe those heart-breaking tears away. She was restricted by his vice grip on her wrists though, which he did not let up. He did however, rest his forehead against hers for the second time that day, as he let his built up anguish run free with his tears.

"Arnavji'" her voice faded away.

"Khushi."

"Hmm..."

"Khushi."

"Hmm Arnavji...bolo'" he let go of her, his sobbing becoming uncontrollable. Khushi hesitantly rested her hands in his hair in an attempt to soothe and comfort him.

"Khushi," he looked up to look her in the eyes, earnestly. Khushi could see what he had been reduced to, she found herself hoping the pain and love she saw in his eyes were once again not figments of her imagination. She pushed these thoughts aside at once, knowing better. "How could you forgive him-the man who beat you- but not forgive me for one tiny-tinyish thing?" He looked so childlike that if she didn't see the pain on his face, Khushi would have had to bite back a laugh.

"Forgive me, please Khushi. Forgive me. Just please don't leave me." He broke down, his helplessness was too much for her to handle. Khushi reached out and clutched his forlorn form against herself.

Desperately trying to soothe herself as much as him, she rocked him in her arms but inevitably she found the tears start to roll down her face. She murmured, "Shhh...Arnav. I forgive you. I'm sorry too. Please forgive me- I'm sorry."

She started as he lifted his head from her bosom to look at her. What he did next startled her even more. He leaned in and took her swollen lips with his own, not stopping for anyone or anything. After futile attempts to push him away, she finally gave in. He deepened the kiss with such passion and gentleness, it took her aback. He entwined their fingers so tightly as to never let her go. Khushi found herself unwillingly hoping again. Maybe Arnav Singh Raizada was really changing...for her...Not likely but just maybe.