OS: Arshi Remarriage (TS contest)

The memories were as vivid as they had been six months ago: the flames of the holy fire dwindling to ash, the heavy weight of her emerald lehenga pulling her downwards, and the knife-like pain riddling her heart as she finally realized it. Finally accepted what could no longer be denied.

Arnav was not coming to marry her.

It felt like the world had dimmed around her, as if she was teetering on the precipice of life and death itself. Khushi had been inconsolable, feeling more lost and alone than ever before. Buaji, Jiji, Amma, Babuji, and even members of Arnav's own family had stood by her, but it hadn't helped. Her heart longed for its other half...the one who'd become her very heartbeat.

It had surprised no one when she'd decided to leave Delhi. Her family had even seemed to understand. She'd made them promise not to tell anyone. But it was unnecessary, they loathed the Raizadas now--especially him.

As Khushi had climbed aboard the train that would take her far from Arnav Singh Raizada, she had known that his memories would never leave her. He was embedded in every broken shard of her soul.

"Khushi dear?"

Her head snapped up with surprise, momentarily forgetting where she was: not in Delhi, but in a small church in the hills of Nainital. Sister Mary Catherine stood in the doorway, staring at her with quiet worry in her aged eyes. The head nun had hired her as a cook and part-time teacher in exchange for boarding and a small salary. In just a matter of months, she'd become a motherly figure of sorts.

"Dinner is ready," said Khushi with a smile that did not quite reach her eyes. "I'll be just there."

"Take your time, dear."

Khushi brushed aside a tear as she slowly rose, trying to force thoughts of Arnav aside. But it was useless. She could never forget him.

Not when her body was swelling with his love...when his child grew under her heartbeat. Her hand trembled as it rested on her burgeoning belly.

And so, as utterly foolish as it no doubt was, she still waited for him, still loved him--even now. "Oh, Arnavji..."

*****

A breeze washed over Arnav's face. A familiar voice whispered in his ear: "Oh, Arnavji.."

He glanced sharply to this right, but as he'd known, Khushi was not there. How could she be when he'd ended everything between them with his own hands? She had every right to hate him.

And yet he would always love her--and only her--from the depths of his soul.

He'd needed time to accept the truth, to see that neither Khushi nor her mother could be blamed for his family's misfortunes. It had been his parents' choice to end their lives, and as hard as it was, he had to accept that.

Arnav had always heard hell was a place of fire and wrath, something as vague and unknown as the gates of heaven. But during these past six months, he'd lived in it. Hell, he'd learned, was living without love, without hope, or purpose. Hell was being without Khushi, the woman who'd taught him to dream and love.

As soon as he'd realized his mistake, he'd begun searching for her. But every road seemed to lead to a dead end. He wouldn't give up though. His heart would not allow that. If it still beat, it meant she was still there...somewhere...

"Khushi...Where are you, love? Where are you?"

There was a knock on the door, and for a second, hope kindled in his soul. But it was only Aman, a file in his hand.

"The conference has been delayed, Mr. Raizada. It'll be an hour from now."

Arnav nodded as he stood. "Fine. I'm going to be outside, but I'll make it back on time."

The fresh air of Nainital was soothing, but he felt none of it. Memories of the last time he'd been here flashed past his eyes. He could still picture Khushi, racing towards him with her lehenga clenched in her fists. Could still feel her against him as he lifted her in his arms.

He didn't know what led him to the old church. It felt as if he was guided by something he didn't quite understand. He'd never been a praying man, but his feet took him to the altar. His head bowed in silent prayer.

"Excuse me, Sir," came a voice from the doorway behind him. "Mass will begin in an hour."

He froze, afraid to hope again. But as he turned to meet the woman's widening eyes, he realized that it was real...that she was real.

"Khushi."

Tears came to his eyes as they swept over her face. Never had he seen anything more precious. And then as his gaze fell lower, going to her protruding stomach, the world seemed to shift beneath his feet.

"Stay away from me!" she cried, backing away. "You're nothing, but a stranger to me now!" And then before he could stop her, Khushi was gone.

*****

Over the next few weeks, he followed her like a shadow. They didn't speak, but their eyes spoke volumes. Agony, misery, desire, love--all flickered in those dark depths.

She could not send him away, not when everyone was welcomed in this sanctuary. He may not have broken through her walls, but Arnav quickly charmed everyone else. The nuns adored him. The children seemed to trust him, kicking around a ball with him after Sunday classes as if they were all long-lost friends.

Khushi though kept her distance, too afraid to trust once more. But the one thing she couldn't control was her love for him, her need to be held in his embrace. It took everything in her to stay away.

One afternoon, he brought jalebis for the kids and silently held out the box to her, staring at her with unconcealed longing.

Khushi's eyes were hard to read; the sparkle he loved so much was absent. "I don't eat sweets," she whispered as she turned away. "Not anymore."

And Arnav loathed himself more than ever. He'd not only lost everything, but he'd killed her soul as well.

Khushi tried to avoid him after that, but it was as if fate had other plans. Just like in the past, they would run into each other constantly. He would catch her whenever she stumbled, righting her quickly as his eyes washed over her with worry.

And just like that, love would pulse despite all divides. His touch unraveled her, reminding her of the night they'd spent in an old farmhouse...the love that had cocooned them like a warm blanket.

It was near New Year's Day that tragedy struck. Khushi had been reaching for a bowl when a sharp pain had hit her midline, its intensity sending her to her knees. She'd thought no one was around, but Arnav heard her broken cry. His arms caught her.

"Khushi!"

"The baby, it's too early! Something is wrong!"

Arnav kissed her forehead, lifting her even as more pain blazed through her. "I've got you, love. Nothing will happen to our child."

She wanted to believe him, but a veil of darkness fell over her eyes. And then there was only darkness...

****

It was sometime later that she woke, a familiar hand gripping hers tightly. Arnav was kneeling by her bedside, his voice comforting her even in the throes of relentless agony.

"Will she be okay, Sister?"

The old nun shook her head, tears in her eyes. "It looks unlikely. You'd best say your goodbyes."

"NO! Khushi, you can't leave me...not like this!" His lips pressed to her abnormally warm cheek. "I love you so much. I never meant to hurt you. Please, forgive me. Please, don't punish me by leaving me. I've seen hell, Khushi. I can't live through it again. I need you. I need only you."

A sob broke his words. He fell against her, his arm curving over her weakening body.

"And I love you."

Arnav stilled, certain he'd heard wrong. But Khushi was blinking awake, a small smile on her face as she stared at him. "I will always love you, Arnav Singh Raizada."

He kissed her through their tears, his hands shaking as he cupped her dear face. "We're meant to be, Khushi. Don't you dare leave me. Marry me...be my wife. This life is nothing without you."

Khushi's heart twisted. "I'm too weak. I can feel it...I don't have much time."

He pressed his mouth hard against hers, willing her to live. "You will not leave me! Never!" Tears streaked his ashen face as he pressed closer. "I should have married you that night six months ago, but I won't make that same mistake ever again. Will you marry me--here and now?"

In the end, she hadn't been able to refuse. Their vows were said quietly, whispers of love and devotion. A sacred bond bridged the two.

Someone passed sindoor to Arnav and he applied it to her parting in a thick sweep, kissing her forehead. "Now, fight, Mrs. Raizada. Fight for us...for our baby...for our love."

It was a long night. The labor was difficult. Khushi screamed and buckled on the bed, lost in a fog of endless pain. But Arnav was at her side throughout and she clung to his strength. Their love overpowered all else. Even death had to bow down to it. Everyone was surprised by Khushi's sudden turnaround.

The wail of an infant sounded around six the next morning. Neither Khushi nor Arnav had heard anything more beautiful.

"I love you," murmured Arnav as he set his newborn daughter in his wife's arms. "Both of you so much."

Khushi felt exhausted, but there was nothing but faith and love in her heart as she hugged her husband and child close. "And we love you, Arnavji."

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