Arnav & Khushi FF || Serendipity #1 || Link to Thread Two: Pg 1 - Page 65

When Khushi Kumari Gupta had woken early that morning, she had felt the bliss of feeling wanted. The euphoria of feeling cherished. She had felt sunshine on her skin and a man's flesh against her own. And she opened her eyes to someone she had long started to fall in love with, for the first time feeling secure and safe in his hold instead of anxious and petrified. Those dreams had belonged a much younger and a far more innocent Khushi.

She flushed as she saw his arm draped protectively over her bare waist and the prominent love bites along her collarbones. Some muddled remnants of his drunken confessions last night passed through her memory- a confession in which he had surely mentioned, could it be, love? Her heart pounded unsteadily in anticipation, and she could not suppress the small grin that broke across her flushing face. The word coursed through her body. Love. Love. Love. It would make all his countless wrongs right - confinement to the poolside, the curses and the taunts. She'd overlook it all, to be loved by him again.

Smilingly, she buried her head into his bare chest, feeling blood rush to color her cheeks that horridly embarrassing red she so strongly detested. His heartbeat sounded strong and prominent, aligning perfectly with the rhythm of her own. He had actually apologized to her last night, had chosen to believe her. Perhaps... they could begin a new life together. One where faith and trust would overcome the sorrows in their past

Uncertainly, she peered up and silently admired Arnav's peaceful features, his mouth hanging slightly open as he breathed deeply and soundly. She lifted a finger to gently close it shut, giggling as it fell open again almost instantly. The stubborn Laad Governor. He looked so serene and so handsome in her arms, the creases of stress and responsibility that perpetually marred his features missing. After taking a few more moments to admire her husband, she reluctantly removed herself from his embrace to shower and prepare herself a cup of tea. The cramps in her abdomen were rather painful.

She walked around the room and gathered her belongings, her clothes thrown carelessly around the floor and the hotel furniture. Her cheeks inflamed further as she reminisced the feel of his hands and lips on her bare skin, impatiently pulling away the straps of the gorgeous dress Ila had clothed her in. With a small shake of the head at his childish antics, she picked up her bra and turned to walk towards the restroom, but not before her eyes skimmed over her name printed on some document lying on a nearby table. She hesitantly turned back around and lifted the papers to her face, skimming over the details haphazardly.

Dissolution of Marriage under Mutual Consent? What?

Khushi's world tilted on its axis as she flipped through the document, tears spilling from her eyes and almost blotting the ink on the legal papers as she tried to decipher the formal jargon. She felt as though a knife had twisted painfully inside her heart -- the same heart that had just moment ago been drumming with enthusiasm now thrashing inside her chest in anguish.

"Ta... ta...talaak?", a pained whisper escaped her.

Arnav had never lied to or misguided her --- she had always known they shared a sham of a marriage complete with an expiry date. But this week she had so carelessly forgotten the implications - her dhak dhak had strengthened and her mind had convinced herself to believe in the impossible. And... and last night. She had rejoiced in his apology. Believed in his regret. Triumphed in his arms. The alcohol had burned away the sanity and commonsense that would have her constructively contemplate the situation.

Last night had meant nothing. Nothing. The word and its repercussions recoiled off the walls of his suddenly chilling room, weighing down her body. Her fingers gripped at the table to steady herself from crashing to the floor. Nothing. She clutched at her chest to desperately regain her ability to breathe, her eyes scavenging through the several pages of print to find that she had somehow been mistaken.

Nothing.

Khushi peered above the document and scrutinized her sleeping husband, snoring away without a care in the world. He didn't love her. He didn't love her at all. He wanted her to leave him. As good riddance. He had used her and would not even for a moment hesitate to throw her away like garbage. She brought her clenched fist to her mouth to muffle her irrepressible cries --- she could not bear the hatred and punishment for seducing him into bedding her.

He couldn't come to know.

Wh*re. Sl*t. Skank.

Perhaps he was right about her. Perhaps he always had been.

In panic and haste, she dressed herself and grabbed her belongings, ridding the room of every trace of evidence confirming the night they had shared together. Khushi bolted out the door and ran down the length of the hallway, only to trip and fall carelessly onto the cold, newly waxed floor. She tried to lift herself up, tried to stand firmly on her feet, but she was rendered powerless with her irrepressibly wobbly knees and feeble body.

So she lay there on the dusty, yellowed tiles in her beautiful gown and smudged makeup, finally permitting herself weep freely for her wounded heart.