Shaapit - The Cursed Sisters - Thread 4 (Link to Thrd 5 added)

"So... yeh tumhaara kamra hai?" (So... this is your room?)

She looked at him over her shoulder and nodded meekly, making him smile. The gleam in her eyes was speaking aloud for her. It reflected some kind of mixture of happiness and nostalgia. He watched her as she opened the windows to let the cooler night air fill the room. Khushi closed the screen to prevent an invasion of mosquitoes before turning around to face him.

"Voh... Maaf kijiye, humaara kamra aapke kamre se chhota hai..." (Actually... I'm sorry, my room is smaller than yours...)

Arnav chuckled, shaking his head, as he dropped the little suitcase that contained their clothes by the door and walked to her. His hands went up to rest on her delicate shoulders and he bent his head to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Iss mein maafi maangne vaali kaun si baat hai?" he murmured amusedly. (Why are you apologising?)

She blushed and looked down shyly. For some reason, he could not keep himself away from her. Having her in his immediate proximity was becoming as necessary as breathing was. There was a strange, unfamiliar restlessness that would bite him if she went out of his sight for a moment. He revelled the feeling that saturate his senses whenever he would hold her. He loved watching her, catching her least smile, blush, every tiniest expression that could cross her beautiful face.

What was happening to him? Was it even him? Never before had he felt like this for anyone. Never before had he desired a woman to this extent. But greater than that desire was a nagging feeling he couldn't quite place. What was it? He opened his mouth to say something but he was interrupted by Madhu Ma calling her. She gave him a hesitant smile, then left.

***

She almost hesitated on the threshold of her own room. Biting her lip, she stepped in carefully to find him looking at the photographs that adorned the wall. She came to stand beside him awkwardly. Her husband was grinning at them, his brow slightly creased into a frown. She had thought he had not noticed her yet, until he spoke to her with a sideways glance.

"Is that you?" he pointed out. Khushi nodded, smiling. Anjali and she had been around six and very naughty kids then. Arnav looked at her with a curious expression that was not very easy to decipher. She frowned slightly, meaning to ask him what he was thinking about but not knowing how to.

He tilted his head towards the bathroom. "You want to change?"

"Nahin... Madhu Ma poochh rahi thi, aap kuchh peena chahte hain? Chai, coffee?"(No... Madhu Ma was asking if you wanted to drink something? Tea, coffee?)

He shook his head. "Thanks, I'm fine."

With a shy smile, she moved away from him. "To hum... kadpe badal ke aate hain..." (So I'll... change...)

***

He was brooding by the window when she returned. He was upset about something, obviously... but what? Sadly, she decided not to prod into it. He would tell her when he would be ready. She just wanted him to feel better. Crossing the room Anjali, hugged him from behind. She felt him start, then catch her hands in his so that he could pull her to his chest. The ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

"To? Apni Ma se baat karke jee bhara aapka, Rani Sahiba?" Shyaam spoke softly as he unconsciously played with her silky hair. Grinning, she nodded happily and he quirked an eyebrow. "Matlab ab aapke paas humaare liye vakt hai?" (So? Did you talk to your fill with your mother? Which means you have time for me, now?)

Anjali rested her head against the low thud of his heartbeat. "Humaara har ek vakt to aap hi ke liye hai." She felt his arms tighten around her protectively. (Each of my moments is yours.)

"I'm sorry, Anjali." She looked up at him, confused. His eyes were deep, like an endless pit, yet hooded. She saw guilt, a lot of it. She saw something else, but she couldn't quite understand. If only she could chase away his ghosts...

***

"I'm sorry," he repeated. She frowned at him, incomprehension clouding her eyes. Of course she wouldn't know. He hoped she never would... Because he didn't want her love to disappear even if he knew he was not worthy of it. His world would go cold. And he wouldn't survive.

She affectionately cupped his cheek, willing him to speak. "Kya hua?" (What happened?)

He could only shake his head. "I am not treating you well, am I? Main khud mein pareshaan aur gum rehta houn. Tumhaara khayaal bilkul bhi nahin rakkhta..." (... I'm always worried and lost. I am not looking after you as I should...)

His wife smiled indulgently. "Ab yeh aapse kissne keh diya? Aap aisi baatein apne mann se nikaal dijiye, varna humein bohot bura lagega. Aur hum jaante hain ke aap pareshaan kyun hain." (Who told you that? Remove these thoughts from your mind, or I'll feel bad. And I know why you are worried.)

No, Anjali, you don't know...

She raised herself on her toes and boldly pressed her lips against his in a lingering kiss. He felt bowled over, and at the same time, a pang of guilt assaulted him. He shouldn't be doing this. The right thing to do would be pulling her away and tell her the truth, tell her about his feelings for her sister. But what if she started hating him?

Instinctively, against the screams of his heart, he pulled her up closer to him, deepening the kiss as they backed into the bed.

***

The shouts and traffic noise woke him up. Arnav stifled a yawn and looked around. The only familiar thing was the image of his wife sleeping, snug in his arms, her little fist closed around his collar. He smiled, watching her, pulling her closer and his smirk only widened when she snuggled her face deeper in the warm and darkness that the crook of his neck provided.

He could get used to waking up to this... The thought nearly made him groan. He had to travel a lot for business purposes. How would he manage then? He did really want to drag her along on these tiring trips where he wouldn't even have time to breathe the same air as her... He sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear carefully, a dim ache settling in his chest, but he brushed it away.

She shifted slightly, before he felt her eyelashes flutter against his skin and he knew she had woken up. His wife lifted her head to let him see the delicate shade of scarlet that coloured her face, blinking.

"Good morning," he whispered.

***

She propped her head on the heel of her hand and watched his sleeping face with a bright smile. Her husband... he looked just like a child... For once, he had not left her alone...

Anjali glanced up at the clock. It was almost seven. She ought have woken up already and started helping the mothers and... Her heart sank a bit. She certainly had apologised to Khushi but last night, she had not been able to have a single second alone with her sister. Their husbands or the mothers had always been around.

Determined, she got up and headed for the bathroom. She would make sure she would talk to Khushi before they left, before they parted ways again. She would make sure that nothing had changed between them...

***

She had been fastening the necklace around her neck when he came out of the bathroom. She caught his reflection in the mirror and stilled, feeling the air whoosh out of her lungs. The towel hung around his shoulders and his jeans rode low on his hips. Colour and heat rushed up her face as she tried to look away, without being able to.

He fluidly slung the towel off and picked the maroon shirt that was laid out on her bed, shrugging it on. Blushing furiously, Khushi tore her eyes away as he was buttoning up the shirt with more ease than the previous day. Good. She wouldn't have to help him with that then. Her heart thrumming for some unknown reason, she patted her cheeks and found them hot. Indeed she was redder than a tomato when she looked at herself in the mirror.

She shook her head to clear her mind and reached for the little sindoorta from which she took a small pinch of vermillion to apply it in her parting, and as soon as she looked up to do so, she found Arnav looking straight at her in the mirror, smirking. Another wave of blood rushed up, making her breaths slightly ragged as she rubbed the sindoor on, her eyes fixed on him. He prowled to her lazily, making her gulp. What were these feelings he was awaking in her? She could not understand.

Her husband caught a corner of her sari and twisted it around his fingers but she was feeling too dizzy to notice or to protest against his proximity. She had not even noticed when he had slipped into her comfort zone. All Khushi was capable of in that instant was to blush and to blink. The corner of his lips curved into a disarming, lop-sided grin and he lowered his head to brush his lips against her cheek, causing her to inhale sharply.

"You're looking beautiful," he murmured huskily. It made her heart beat more erratically. "You always do." Arnav pressed a firm kiss on her cheek, then strode to the door as if nothing had happened. "I'll see you downstairs? Mujhe bohot bhook lagi hai and I hope Badi Ma ne voh aloo ke parathe banaaye hain." (...I'm feeling extremely hungry and I hope Badi Ma has made those aloo ke parathe.)

A wink and he was gone, while Khushi was left staring at her reflection, her palm pressed to her burning cheek...

"Khushi, ruko," Anjali hurried down the stairs after her sister but an unknown force slowed her down once she was just a couple of steps above her. "Tum... tum kaisi ho?" she asked awkwardly. She realised how wrong she had been to think that things had not changed between them. Things had changed. The ease and complicity that had always existed between them solidified into something totally different, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. (Khushi, wait. You... How are you?)

"Theek, aur tum? Tum khush ho?" Khushi smiled at her fondly, but Anjali knew that she had sensed it too. There was an odd sadness in her eyes. Tears sprung into Anjali's eyes at once and she walked down to the same level as her sister, nodding. When she blinked, the dampness escaped her eyes to cling on her eyelashes. Biting her lower lip, she threw her arms around Khushi in a tight embrace. Sobs shattered her as Khushi hugged her back fiercely. (Fine, and you? Are you happy?)

"Humein maaf kardo, Khushi," she whispered in the midst of her tears and hiccups. "Uss raat humein pata nahin kya hua jo humne tumse aise baat ki. Hum apne aapko isske liye khabhi maaf nahin kar paayenge. Hum... Hum kissi se bhi kaise bhi baat karlein lekin tumse... Tum to humaari judua behen ho. Humse aisa kaise hogaya? Humein maaf kardo..." (I'm sorry, Khushi. That night, I don't know what had made me talk to you like that. I will never be able to forgive myself. I... I can talk like this but you... You are my twin sister. How could I do that to you? I'm so sorry...)

***

She ran her hand down Anjali's silky hair, feeling hot salty tears roll down her cheeks while her sister begged to pardon. But Anjali did not understand. She had been forgiven a long time ago. Since the night of the wedding, when she had looked at her with regret etched deep in her eyes. Khushi slowly pulled Anjali away from her and wiped the tears away from her face.

"Humne tumse kitni baar kaha hai? Tum paagal ho, Anji!" Khushi smiled. "Tumhein humse maafi maangne ki koyi zaroorat nahin hai. Behenon ke beech mein hamesha jagde hote rehte hain. Aur vaise bhi, tumhaari berukhi ko to sab se zyaada hum hi to pehchaante hain, aur usska assar humpe nahin padta!" (How many times have I told you this? You are mad, Anji! You don't have to apologise to me. Sisters keep fighting. Anyway, I know your ruthlessness better than anyone else, it won't work on me!)

She laughed and Anjali joined in too, swiping her palms across Khushi's face to dry it. "Matlab tum humse gussa nahin ho?" (So you are not angry at me?)

Khushi shook her head. "Hum tumse kabhi gussa karpaaye hain kya?" She took Anjali's hand in hers and they continued making their way down the stairs together, like in the old days. (Have I ever been angry at you?)

"Aur tum bataao, tum khush ho, na?" She stilled and looked up at Anjali's question. Her sister's eyes were full of concern and worry. Was she happy? (And you tell me, you are happy, aren't you?)

Her thoughts travelled to her new home, to her husband. Arnavji was making all the possible to ensure that she felt comfortable in her new space. She remembered how he had supported her after she had told him about Barun. He had even proposed to let her go to the man she thought she loved, but he had accepted her and her decision to stay married to him. Knowing about Barun had not make him keep his distance. Instead, he was there for her, helping her with each step she took. So, was she happy?

A smile blossomed slowly on her lips. "Haan. Hum bohot khush hain." (Yes. I am very happy.)

She felt Anjali's free hand flutter up to her shoulder. "Khushi, tum-" (Khushi, you-)

"Humne unhein bataaya," she whispered. "Barunji ke baare mein. Unhein bilkul bhi bura nahin laga, Anji. Unhon ne to yeh bhi kaha ke agar hum Barunji ke saath apni zindagi bitaana chahte hain, to voh humaara saath deinge. Voh humaara bohot khayaal rakhte hain. Humaari har chhoti khushi, har chhota dukh, voh apna bana lete hain. Humaari aakhon mein ek bhi aansu aaye, to unhein bardaash nahin hota. Hum sach bataaein, to Arnavji iss duniya ke sab se achhe pati hain. Sab se achhe." (I told him. About Barunji. He didn't mind, Anji. In fact, he told me that if I wanted to spend my life with Barunji, he would help me. He cares a lot for me. Each of my small happinesses, each of my little sadnesses, he accepts all of them as his. If tears fill up my eyes, he cannot bear it. To tell you the truth, Arnavji is the best husband in world. The best.)

***

He closed his eyes and pressed a hand to the wall beside him, as his emotions reeled out of his reach after he had heard her say those words. Weakly, he leaned himself against the wall and allowed himself to smile. Arnav had not meant to listen to their conversation.

Madhu Ma had asked him to go and see why the others were taking so much time, but when he had reached the staircase, he had found the sisters in a hug, crying. So, he had retreated in the corridor to allow them some time in private, until they had sorted themselves out, then he would come out and call them, without letting them know he had been there all along. But he did not regret having overheard their words. Not the least bit.

Because now he at least knew that Khushi liked him, that she was happy with him. No, she was not exactly reciprocating what he felt for her, but it was still a start, right? A good start. He could win her heart. He could make her love her, even if even a little bit. They could make this marriage work...

***

The unblemished smile of happiness that Khushi's face was radiating stole her breath. She laughed despite her tears and, cupping her sister's cheek affectionately, Anjali gently kissed her forehead. Somehow, she had always had the feeling that Arnav would be the best for Khushi. She couldn't explain why, she just knew.

And now, she had the proof of it. "Hamesha aise hi khush raho," she blessed her little cousin. Sniffing slightly, Anjali squeezed Khushi's hand and nodded towards the kitchen. "Chalo, humein zoron se bhookh lagi hai." (I hope you will always be so happy. Come, I'm feeling very hungry.)

***

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw her husband emerge from the dark corridor that led to the kitchen, living room and dining room. Had he heard...? She hoped not. Warm blood rushed up to her face. Arnav smiled at them pleasantly.

"Oh, you're here. Voh... Madhu Ma ne aapko bulaane ko kaha. Aapke pati kahaan hain?" he asked Anjali. (... Madhu Ma was calling you. Where is your husband?)

"Kamre mein hain, abhi aate hi- Lo! Aagaye," she said as she saw Shyam appear. Anjali smiled, waiting for her husband to join them. (In the room, he must be- Oh! Here he is.)

As Khushi shifted uncomfortably and looked up at Arnav, she realised he was neither looking at her sister, nor at Shyam, but at her. He was intently staring at her, as though trying to decipher something. Without thinking, she had bobbed her head as a gesture to ask him what was wrong. He gave her one of those crooked half-smiles that always managed to make her heart race, and touched his nose with his index before pointing at her face.

Instantly, her free hand shot up to her nose and she frowned. What? His lips twisted into a teasing smirk as he edged closer to her.

"Tumhaari naak laal hai," he whispered, and by the time he had stepped back, Khushi was red in the face, not just the nose. (Your nose is red.)

***

He watched all their little interactions with a pinch in the heart. Why was unable to stop think about her? He shot a stiff smile at Anjali when she handed him his tea, then glanced back at Arnav who was sipping his, his gaze fixed on Khushi while she placed a plate of piping hot parathas on the table and scurried out. He was smiling almost dreamily.

"I heard that you were in America too, before," Shyam said, in an attempt to be friendly.

Arnav lifted his brow and turned to him, putting his cup down. "Yeah. I did my studies in Boston."

"Boston? At Harvard?"

He chuckled and winced at the same time. "Yeah, but I don't like to brag about it. Where do you live there?"

Shyam smiled. "Chicago."

"That's nice," Arnav nodded

"Why did you leave America?" the question escaped him without reflection. But he could not help wonder. What if Arnav Singh Raizada had never returned to India, and never married Khushi Gupta?

The man's face darkened and he looked away. "My father died. I had to return to look after the business after that."

Guilty, Shyam opened his mouth to say he was sorry if he had asked a question that was too personal but Arnav had swallowed all of his scalding tea mindlessly and gotten up. "Excuse me," he muttered as he left.

Anjali entered the room just as her brother-in-law was leaving. She looked at Shyam in surprise and he sighed, his mouth upturned. She walked up to him but before she could do anything he had caught her hands and pressed a kiss on each of them. Startled, she giggled and shook her head lovingly. He smiled at her, promising himself that he had to try and be a better husband to her.

***

His eyes were closed tight as he tried to push the bad memories away. His mother's death, his father's death... To neither he had been able to say a proper goodbye... A light touch on the shoulder made him gasp silently and turn around; he hadn't even realised that he had been holding his breath. Khushi stood behind him, worried.

"Aap khaana nahin khaaeinge?" she had started to ask, but then something flitted on her face, causing her to frown. "Kya hua aapko?" (Won't you eat? What happened to you?)

He blinked, unable to answer that. All he knew was that she was a breath of fresh air in his stale, dark life. His arms went around her instinctively, holding her tight to his chest. She stumbled backwards, stunned, then slowly, he felt her place her hands tentatively on his shoulders to comfort him. Arnav exhaled heavily and closed his eyes, engraving this moment in his soul...

She doused the old piece of cloth with alcohol and gently began to rub the glass vitrine, giving it back its lustre. It was the first thing to do on Monday mornings, her mother had taught her. Anjali's smile dimmed a bit as she thought of her mother.

It was already one month since her husband had left for America and during that time, her mother's health had undergone a serious decline. Garima was constantly sick, getting weaker and weaker. Sometimes, Anjali would look at her mother and wonder if it was the same woman who had raised her. It didn't feel like it. Garima had lost so much weight. Her skin appeared more wrinkled and translucent, her bones were becoming more and more prominent, her eyes and hair - now almost completely grey - had lost their shine. She was endlessly in pain... Somehow, she would manage to conceal it during the day, try to move about and find something to do. After all, Garima Gupta, unlike her younger sister-in-law, had never allowed herself to be idle, but she was now incapable of doing anything without feeling that excruciating pain, which would tire her out completely in moments. At night, however, if anyone happened to pass by Garima's bedroom, they would hear her moan for mercy. It broke her daughter's heart to see the resilient woman suddenly vulnerable. The medication was of no help. The cancer was spreading fast. These days, Anjali was the one taking care of the Gupta bookshop. Her mother was far too weak to travel in this heat and work the whole day, now.

The little bells by the door jingled, signalling the arrival of a new customer, and Anjali sighed, pushing the cloth in a corner. She straightened herself and turned around with a welcoming smile that quickly vanished. The young man, who stood before her, attempted to keep his smile on his face, though. Her lips parted in an inaudible gasp.

He folded his hands and bobbed his head politely. "Namaste."

"Aap... aap yahaan kya kar rahe hain?" she whispered as soon as she was able to recover. (You... What are you doing here?)

He looked away, silently, and she knotted her hands together suddenly scared. He was looking good, and yet, she could see that nothing was really fine with him. His eyes were ringed with darkness and pain from sleepless nights, and she could not help but feel a pricking in her heart for him.

"Voh khush to hai?" she heard him ask. Her mouth opened but then closed soundlessly. He looked at her again. "Maaf kijiye... Maine khud ko rokne ki bohot koshish ki lekin..." His voice died and he looked in the distance again. (Is she happy? Forgive me... I tried to stop myself but...)

Anjali gulped. "Barunji..." she stopped, biting her lip. She was torn between pity for him and the feeling of protecting her sister's happiness... Khushi was happy with her husband. In fact, it was the happiest she had ever seen the girl and for nothing in the world would she want that to change... Anjali blinked her tears away and took a deep breath in.

"Voh bohot hi khush hai, Barunji," she spoke as coldly as she could. "Jijaji Khushi se bohot pyaar karte hain and voh unke saath bohot khush hai. Aapke liye achha yehi hoga agar usse bhool jaayein." (She is very happy, Barunji. Jijaji loves Khushi a lot and she is very happy with him. It will be better for you if you forget her.)

He looked at her with tormented eyes and tried to smile. "Vahi toh mujhse nahin hota..." He sighed and turned to leave but just as his hand touched the door handle, he looked back at her. "Aap mujhse itni nafrat kyun karti hain?" (That's exactly what I cannot do... Why do you hate me so much?)

She frowned, not understanding. "Ji?" (Excuse me?)

Barun gave her a forlorn smile. "Jabse hum mile hain, maine aapki aankhon mein apne liye hamesha nafrat hi dekhi hain." (Since we have met, I have always seen hatred for me in your eyes.)

The tears filled her eyes up again as she thought of Khushi. "Shayad issliye, ke aap hi ki vajah se humaari behen ko itne dukh sehne pade." (Maybe because it's because of you my sister had to suffer so much.)

"Aapki behen khush ho sakti thi..." he snorted. "Mere saath... Usske dukh ka kaaran main nahin, aap hain." (Your sister could have been happy... With me... I am not to blame for her suffering, you are.)

Her jaws clenched together as indignation and anger took her over. "Kya matlab hai aapka? Aap-" (What do you mean? You-)

"Hum shaadi ke ek din pehle bhaag jaane wale the," he calmly stated, silencing her at once. "Lekin uske pehle hi, Paramji ne aake mujhe bataaya ke Khushi ne mana kardiya. Ussne kaha ke voh apni khushiyon ke liye aapki khushiyan barbaad nahin kar sakti. Aapki shaadi ko bachaane ke liye, Khushi ne uss aadmi se shaadi ki. Aapke pyaar ko bachaane ke liye, Khushi ne apna pyaar gava diya." (We were supposed to run away one day before the wedding. But before that, Paramji came and told me Khushi had refused. She said she could not sacrifice your happiness for her own. She married that man to save your marriage. To save your love, she gave up hers.)

***

"Khushi! Khushi!"

Grinning and almost out of breath, she [jewellery] scurried to her scowling husband as he stormed into the house. "Sorry," she tried to explain herself but he gruffly gestured her not to with his eyes.

"Kitni baar kaha hai, ghar mein aise dauda mat karo," he scolded her worriedly as he handed his laptop bag to Hari Prakash, after which he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her to the sitting room, seating her on the couch as he hollered for a glass of water. "Now don't try to talk before you have caught your breath." (How many times have I told you not to run around the house like that. ...)

She almost started laughing, but decided against it. She merely smiled at him until he returned the favour with one of his own, even as he tried to retain his sternness. He made her drink the glass of water and tucked her hair behind her ear carefully.

"Theek ho tum?" he wanted to know. He slid his hand behind her to rub her back. (Are you okay?)

Khushi smiled and nodded. "Sorry... Hum dadiji ke saath the, kal ki puja ke liye kuchh kaam baaki hai toh-" (Sorry... I was with dadiji, there was some work left for tomorrow's prayer, so-)

His lips curled with disgust. "Yeah. Dadi ko hamesha tumse koyi kaam hai," he muttered annoyedly, causing her eyes to widened. "What? Jab se dadi vaapas aayi hai, I don't get to spent time with you! Bahu yeh karo, bahu voh karo!'" (Yeah. Dadi always needs you for some work. What? Since she has returned, I don't get to spend time with you! 'Bahu do this, bahu do that!')

Khushi giggled despite herself, not quite knowing how to react to that, while Arnav just chuckled and held her hands tight in one hand. He gently brushed the other hand against her cheek. "Please, Khushi, aise ghar mein bhaaga mat karo. Gir gayi toh? Main hamesha ghar pe nahin rehta... I... I get worried for you..." (Please, Khushi, don't run around the house like that. What if you fell down? I am not always at home...)

"Humein pata hai," she mumbled, her lips pouting slightly. "Lekin... humein yeh bhi pata hai ke aap office se lautke, sab se pehle humaara chehra dekhte hain toh... Varna aapka mood kharaab hojaata, na? Aur aapka mood kharaab hojaata, toh aap baat-baat pe gussa karte, aur usski vajah se aapko sar-dard hota!" (I know. But... I also know that when you return from the office, you like to see my face first so... Or else your mood gets bad, right? And if you are in a bad mood, you'll get angry easily and then your head will hurt.)

He lifted an eyebrow questioningly. "Really? Aap toh mujhe bohot ache se jaanti hain, Mrs Raizada!" he grinned. (...You know me very well, Mrs Raizada!)

A slight blush crept up her cheeks and she stood up quickly, moving towards the door. "Hum abhi aapke liye chai lekar aate hain." (I'll just bring you some tea.)

"Khud ke liye bhi ek laana, aur Khushi, bhaagna mat!" he ordered. (Bring one for yourself too and Khushi, don't run!)

Her face burned as she realised she was just about to start running again. She patted her cheeks in embarrassment. Yes, she did know him very well by now. She knew that she was the first thing he always looked at in the mornings and when he returned home, and she was the last thing he needed to see before going to sleep or when he was leaving for work. She knew that he could not sleep without her. She knew that he could get irritated very quickly, and that gave him headaches. She knew that he could not refuse her anything. She knew almost every little thing about him...

***

"Aap puja ke liye kya peheneinge?" (What are you wearing for the prayer?)

He glanced at her briefly before continuing to read the report he had just been sent. "Kya pehenounga? Vahi jo roz pehenta houn." (What am I wearing? What I wear everyday.)

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shoulders droop. "Suit?"

"Yup!" Arnav close the file and put it on the coffee table to lean back on the recliner, his eyes on his wife as she sat on the edge of the bed. The report was nothing urgent.

"Voh..." She licked her lips nervously. "Humne socha ke..." (Actually... I thought that...)

Lifting an eyebrow, he smirked at her playfully. "Kya socha?" (What did you think?)

Khushi blinked. "Humne socha..." (I thought...)

"Kya socha, Khushi?" he chuckled, making her look away, slightly cross. (What did you think, Khushi?)

"Humne socha ke puja hai toh aap kurta..." (I thought it's a prayer so a kurta-)

"What?" he laughed and she frowned at him, so he forced himself to sober up. "Well, I don't own any kurta!"

It was her turn to giggle. "Humne aapke liye ek kharida hai." (I bought one for you.)

He got up from the recliner immediately and shook his head as he walked to his side of the bed. "I'm not wearing it."

Her jaw dropped and she turned around to look at him. "Lekin Arnavji-" (But Arnavji-)

"Not wearing it!" he repeated firmly before grabbing her by the waist and pulling her on top of him, waiting for her breaths to slow down so that he could also fall asleep, smiling.

***

She wearily put the phone back in its cradle and all by itself, her smile fell off her face. It had been a very tiring day and she had to wake up early the next day for the prayer at Khushi's place.

Khushi...

Anjali swallowed yet another sob as she dragged her feet up the stairs to her bedroom, but instead, she went to the room that had once belonged to her sister. Opening the cupboard, she found the yellow and maroon sari that had been Khushi's favourite. Her hand roamed over it surface while she remembered the way it made her sister look prettier. Those were the days when they were inseparable... And now?

She buried her face in the soft silk, trying to find the solace Khushi's embrace would give her then when she felt the need to unburden her heart and cry.

Khushi... Khushi had given up so much for her. Why had it taken so long for her to realise it? Why had she not seen the look in her sister's eyes before going to the wedding altar? Why had she not seen her sacrifice? Khushi had gone through all of it solely for her, so that her alliance with Shyam did not fall apart, because knowing her father-in-law, Anjali could now suppose what would have happened if Khushi had eloped with Barun...

Her wedding with Shyam, her future in America, even her honour... It had all been Khushi's gift... And what had she done for her sister? She had insulted her in the worst way possible. She had driven a wedge so deep between them... She had hurt that sister...

"Lekin ab aur nahin," she promised under her breath. Drying her tears, Anjali promised herself that from now on, she would do everything she could to protect her sister. (But not anymore.)

~~~~

This chapter may seem a bit dumb... I get the impression that in some places it's a bit weird but it also contains quite a lot of hints of what is going to happen in the future! Well, for now, I might be the only one who actually knows what will happen... XP But I would like to hear your guesses... Any ideas?

The fact that he was adamantly dressed in a white shirt and black jeans, typing furiously into his laptop, brought a slight frown to her face. The kurta ensemble she had bought him remained untouched on the bed. Her husband was not ready to change his mind about this... But then, she smiled to herself as she left the room because it did not really matter.

He had already done so much for her, changed his way of living to adapt to her bring in his life now, accepted her despite knowing that she might have loved someone... Could she ask for more from him? Of course it did sting her heart that he had not even looked at the kurta but when she thought of everything else, when she thought of how happy she felt with him, she decided that it did not matter at all. He did not even believe in gods but he was still allowing her to have the prayer and home and participating in it too. Wasn't he already doing more than what she had asked for?

"Bahu! O Bahu!"

"Ji, Dadiji?" She [jewellery] hastily scurried up to her grandmother-in-law who was beaming at her, Anjali and Rama at her side. Smiling, Khushi greeted her mother and cousin.

Subhadra placed a trusting hand on her shoulder. "Aapki ma aur behen pehli baar aapke ghar aayin hai, Bahu, inka achhe se khayaal rakkhna, theek hai?" She turned to Rama as she continued. "Lekin humein aapse yeh toh kehna chaahiye Ramaji, aapne aur aapki bhabiyon ne apni beti ko bohot hi achhe sanskaar diye hain. Itni acchi bahu toh dhoondne pe bhi nahin milti." (Your mother and sister have come to your house for the first time, take good care of them, alright? But I have to tell you one thing Ramaji, you and your sisters-in-law have given your daughter a very good upbringing. You rarely find a daughter-in-law like this.)

Rama's cheeks reddened as she nodded, all smiles, while Anjali shot a mischievous conspiratory glance at Khushi. They smiled at each other, knowing exactly how Rama would react on returning home. Chest puffed, she would retell this to everyone and anyone who would hear, taking all the credit to herself, for months to come. The jubilation would probably even snatch her sleep.

Arnav soon arrived behind Khushi and greeted the two ladies before Subhadra decided to show them to their seats, leaving him alone with her. He smiled at her silently, possibly gauging her to seen whether she was angry at him, but she gave him her usual bright smile.

"Aapka kaam khatam hogaya?" (Is your work done?)

He shook his head, catching the edge of her saree and making tiny pleats in the fabric. "Nahin. But I heard Dadi calling you, so I came down." She frowned, confused, as his forehead creased slightly. "I thought Dadi was calling you to give you some other work," he explained, "so I was going to tell her to give you a rest. Ghar mein aur bhi bohot naukar hain kaam karne ke liye, unhein hamesha tumhaari jaan ke pichhe rehne ki koyi zaroorat nahin hai." (No. [...] There are many other servants in this house to work, she shouldn't be on your back this much.)

She bit her lip shyly at his concern for her and stared at him until he looked up at her. "Dhanyavaad," she whispered. (Thank you.)

"Tum naaraaz nahin ho mujhse?" he raised an eyebrow. (Are you angry at me?)

"Kyun?" (Why?)

"Kurte ki vajah se?" (Because of the kurta?)

He chuckled when she shook her head and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "Main voh kaam khatam karke aata houn, okay? Jaldi hi neeche aajaaounga." (I'll go finish that work, okay? I'll come down soon.)

***

She waited until her brother-in-law had left before standing up. Rama and Subhadra were so engrossed in their discussion, thankfully, that they did not notice. She quickly strode to Khushi's side, her heart pricking as she noticed the girl was still smiling at her husband's retreating back.

"Khush?" It was almost unwillingly that Khushi looked away from Arnav and at her. "Humein baat karni hai tumse." (Khush? I need to talk to you.)

The corners of her lips dipped regretfully. "Abhi toh dher saara kaam baaki hain aur humein voh sab dekhne hain... Hum puja ke baad baat karein?" (I still have a lot of work to do... Can we talk after the prayer?)

She did not think this could wait but she could not take Khushi away from her duties either. She half-heartedly nodded, making her sister's face brighten at once, and watched the girl spring into a light run. Everything was going to be fine, she reassured her pounding heart.

***

"Bahu? Puja shuru honewali hai, aap Chhote ko bula lijiye." (The prayer is going to start, call Chhote.)

She nodded and started towards their room, climbing the stairs as fast as she could, but she stopped dead in her tracks just as she entered the corridor that led to their room. He was about the close the door when their eyes met, halting them both. He grinned nervously and shut the door, moving towards her.

"Main itna bura lag raha houn kya?" (Do I look that bad?)

She gulped with some difficulty, her eyes wide. Was her mind playing a trick on her? A frown formed on her face. Slowly, uncertainly, she took a step closer to him and lifted her hand to his chest, clutching at the fabric covering it and hearing his breath hitch at the same time. But it was not what really startled her in that moment. It was that the fabric she held in her hands was real. She looked up at him blankly.

"Aapne sach mein yeh kurta pehna hai?" (Are you really wearing this kurta?)

His smile slowly returned to his face. "Hmm," he shrugged non-committedly. "Puja ka time hua hai, right? Chalo." (It's time for the prayer, right? Come.)

And so, amusedly, Arnav steered his perplexed wife downstairs...

***

The prayer was over but she could still not talk to Khushi because of all the guests who had gathered around her and Arnav to bless them. So she folded her hands in her lap nervously and tried to wait, even as Rama Ma gossiped with some ladies beside her. However, just a few minutes later, Khushi was walking up to her with two bowls of rasgullah and she led her to the backyard where they were finally alone. She accepted the bowl Khushi extended to her with a small smile as they settled on the wooden swing, catching the mischievous glint in her sister's eyes. Having dessert before dinner was something that had never pleased the mothers. There had been a few times when Madhu Ma had slipped then some secretly though, because Khushi or Anjali would go to her with sad puppy faces that melted her heart, but the other mothers could know absolutely nothing about that.

"Toh?" Khushi asked as she finished the last bit of her sweet. "Tumhein humse baat karni thi na?" Uneasy, Anjali set her bowl aside, frowning. She felt the worry creep inside Khushi too and in an instant, her sister's hands had enveloped hers. "Badi Ma...?" Khushi whispered anxiously. (So? You wanted to talk to me, didn't you?)

She sighed and held on to Khushi hands as she shook her head. Her mother was getting worse but she wanted to talk about something else. Something that would definitely be of a much greater importance in her sister's happiness. "Khushi... Sach-sach bata... Tum Arnavji ke saath khush ho, na?" (Khushi... Tell me the truth... You really are happy with Arnavji, aren't you?)

Despite the crease on her forehead, her cousin smiled at her, slightly confused. "Haan! Humne tumse kaha tha! Hum bohot khush hain, Anji!" (Yes! I had told you! I really am very happy, Anji!)

Another sigh left her lips, her eyes scrunched shut. It was a relief but she still had to warn Khushi... her eyes fluttered open and she leaned in, closer. "Khushi..." she whipered uncertainly. "Khushi, kal hum Barunji se mile..." (Khushi... Khushi, I met Barunji yesterday...)

"Kya?" The blood drained from her sister's face at the mention of the man and suddenly, the girl's grip had tightened. (What?)

"Voh dukaan par aaye the... Tumhaare bare mein poochh rahe the... Khushi, hum... Dekh, humein lagta hai ke voh tumse milne ki koshish kar sakte hain, issiliye humne tumse kaha. Dhyaan rakkhna, theek hai? Voh baat karne ki koshish kare toh tum unse bilkul bhi baat mat karna. Voh bohot hi ajeeb lag rahe the... Pata nahin kya... Khush, tum yahan apne pati ke saath, apne sasuraal mein theek ho. Hum nahin chaahte ke tumhein kuchh... Tum samajh rahi ho na?" she rambled urgently. (He had come to the shop... He was asking about you... Khushi, I... Look, I think he can try to meet you, so I am telling you. Be careful, okay? If he tries to talk to you, don't. He seemed strange... I don't know... Khush, you are doing well with your husband in your home. I don't want anything to... You understand, right?)

Dazed and white with fear, Khushi was staring at her as if she was lost. Anjali pressed her palm against her younger sister's cheek and shook her lightly. "Khushi, tum samajh rahi ho meri baat?" (Khushi, do you understand what I am telling you?)

She received a quick nod in response and started wondering whether she had been right to tell Khushi about it. She cursed herself for having told her and caused this torment in her but on the other hand, she knew that it was necessary to warn Khushi. This way, she would be on her guard and Barun would not take her by surprise. She had to let Khushi know.

***

She had been looking down for quite a while now and when she thought no one was looking, she wiped a small tear out of the corners of her eyes from time to time. It worried him a lot. Where had her cheeriness gone? Everything was fine until the prayer had ended. Then she had gone somewhere with her cousin and she had been like that ever since. Arnav frowned. Seeing her like that again was intolerable. He watched her bid farewell to her cousin and mother, along with the last guests, and before Dadi could give her something else to do, he marched straight to her. His hand firmly latched around her elbow, he gently dragged her towards their room, shushing her when she tried to protest. The world would not stop if she did not do the chores and cleaning up for one night.

He turned to her, frowning, as soon as he had closed the door. She was still staring at the floor, looking like she was on the verge of crying. His hand went to her cheek, tenderly cradling it to make her look up at him. "What's wrong, Khushi?"

***

She sniffed, not meeting his eyes as she felt him scan her face worriedly. But how could she look at him in the eyes? How could she tell him that everything could be wrong? She didn't think she could have been this scared before in her life. She wished that time could stop right here and that could always be with him. Why? She did not know, and she didn't even want to know. She just knew that he made her feel safe and she did not want to lose that. However if what Anjali had just told her was true... If Barun Ghosh was looking for her...

"Khushi?" Startled, she made the mistake of looking up at him and her tears spilled out of her eyes. His frown deepened and he inched closer to her. "Talk to me, Khushi. What happened? Why are you crying?"

Lips tight, she shook her head. She could not tell him for the fear of worrying him more... or losing him...

"Is it about Badi Ma?" he asked softly.

Khushi bit her lip. Then, she nodded. She hated to lie to him, but she could not tell him the truth either. Yes, she was very worried about Garima Ma. The woman she had always known so strong had suddenly lost all her power and she was now so sick she had not been able to attend the prayer, because of which Madhu Ma had had to stay at home too. But strangely, the threat that could possibly endanger her marriage shook her even more. She was afraid he would catch her lie, but he didn't. He simply gathered her in his arms, silent and yet saying a lot. Instinctively, she hugged him back tighter than usual. If only... if only she could change things...

He pressed a lingering kiss against her temple as he pulled away and she caught a glimmer of happiness in his dark eyes, causing a small smile to pull on her lips. His hand went back to her cheek and she let herself lean into its warmth.

"Maine tumhaara laaya hua kurta bhi pehena hai, isske badle I should get something too, right?" he chuckled, tugging at the corner of her lips with his thumb. "Thoda aur smile karo." She tried, her eyes were burning but she tried. Her attempt must not have been that fruitful because the next moment, his frown returned. "You know, jab bhi turn karta houn, lagte hai ke loose hoke yeh pajama gir jaayega," he stated with a straight face, but her eyes widened and she glanced down briefly without thinking and when she looked back up, her cheeks burning, he was grinning at her. "Lekin phir bhi pehen rakkha hai. Tumhaare liye. So can you give me a smile, please?" (I wore the kurta you brought me, so I should get something in return, right? Smile a little bit more. You know, every time I turn I feel like this pajama is going to turn loose and fall. But I'm still wearing it. For you. ...)

A short giggle tumbled from her lips but somehow, it melted back into tears. It hurt too much. The thought of losing him. It hurt her so much she could die. And she could not get this thought out of her mind, whatever she did. Sighing, he pulled her back into his chest, rubbing her back soothingly as she sobbed in the crook of his neck. It was fine. Everything was going to be fine, she assured herself. Because he was there for her. He was her strength, not her weakness and with the strength he gave her, she would make things right. She could handle this.

"Suniye, aaj hum bazaar jaa rahe hain. Aapko kuchh chahiye?" (Listen, I'm going to the market today. Do you need anything?)

He frowned at her reflection in the mirror as he knotted his tie. "Tumhein bazaar jaane ki kya zaroorat hai? Kissi naukar ko bhej do." (Why do you have to go to the market? Send one of the servants.)

Khushi [jewellery] smiled at him, holding out his jacket. "Aap bhool gaye? Hari Prakashji ne chhutti li hain aur Lali bimaar hai. Hum intezaar kar lete lekin sabzi khatam ho rahe hain aur Dadiji ki davaayi bhi leni hai." (Did you forget? Hari Prakashji has takes a few days off and Lali is sick. I would have waited but the vegetables are almost finished and Dadiji needs some medicine too.)

It did not make him worry any less. He wasn't comfortable with the idea of Khushi going out all alone since he knew that even before they were married, her mothers had never allowed that. He shrugged the jacket on, still frowning, then her gathered her into a protective hug to kiss the top of her head. "Be careful, okay? Call me when you get back home." She nodded reassuringly but he knew he was going to feel better only after she had phone him on returning home.

***

"Aap apna khayaal rakkh rahe hain, na?" (You are taking care of yourself, aren't you?)

A small smile formed on his lip and he hummed affirmatively. "Aur tum?" (And you?)

"Hum bhi theek hain. Kal humaara passport agaya, toh aaj hum visa lagwaane ke liye chhod deinge." (I'm fine too. Yesterday my passport arrived, to I'll drop it for the visa today.)

"Just a few more weeks," Shyam sighed.

His wife giggled happily on the other side. "Phir hum aapke paas honge..." (Then I will be with you.)

***

She lifted her arm to swipe her forehead with the back of her hand. Since she spent most of her days in the comfort of her home now, she had almost forgotten how unforgivable the Kolkata heat could be, but still it did not wipe the smile off her face. She and Arnavji had visited the mothers a few days ago and Garima Ma seemed to be doing better with the treatment Anjali had finally convinced her to try. Of course, they had had to hide the fact that it was Arnav who was majorly funding it because the self-respecting woman Garima Gupta was would never have accepted help from her son-in-law. Instead, they had told her Anjali's new improvements to the bookshop were working wonders and it was bringing enough money for this.

Anjali's visa was also bound to be ready very soon and she would be able to leave for America. Yes, it saddened Khushi beyond her wits that in a few days, her sister and playmate and friend would be gone far away, but her cousin's happiness was infectious. She just could not help being happy for Anjali. Things were not perfect, but there was nothing to be depressed about.

Sighing, she hauled her shopping bags up again and resumed walking to the car, but suddenly, she felt like someone was trying to ease one of her heavy loads out of her hands and she gasped, a scream ready on her lips as she turned around. The sound died immediately, however, as her eyes fell on the man who stood next to her and she froze all over. It allowed him to take all the bags from her hands before he looked up at her with a sad smile.

"Khushi," he spoke softly, regretfully, spearing pain through her heart.

She could not describe the emotions that ran through her in that moment. It felt like it had spanned over centuries and she was lost, alone and defenceless. She felt scared, very scared. And in that moment, the person she could think of was her husband. She craved the sense of safety he gave her simply by being there. But he was nowhere near her. She was lost...

***

It was not easy to keep the smile up, but he did. On the inside, however, he felt like he was dying a slow, painful death. He could see it in her eyes. He had lost her...

There was no happiness of seeing him. There was fear. It was unbearable but it made him happy. If she was scared of his presence, it should mean she was happy with her husband. Right? It was a relief. Although not with him, she was at least happy in her life. Her husband probably loved her. A lot. No one could help it, though, could they? She was too easy to love, it was too easy to lose your heart to her.

Barun drew his lips in a slightly wider smile that stabbed him in the heart too. "Namaste, Khushi. Kaisi hain aap?" (...How are you?)

She looked like she was on the verge of panic but stupefied, eyes wide as if someone was trying to drown her. And it didn't hurt any less to realise that he was that someone...

"Aapko darrne ki koyi zaroorat nahin hai," he forced himself to say, although his first instinct was to disappear from her sight and stop hurting her, erase all the memories she could have had of him to make their lives easier. "Main sirf yeh jaanna chaahta tha ke... ke aap kaisi hain... Main aapko gaari tak chhod doon?" (You don't have to be scared. I just wanted to know if... if you are fine... Can I see you to your car?)

Her eyes, her beautiful dark eyes that had made him fall for her, ceased darting with fright and settled on him. A sheen of tears glazed over them and she watched him heart-breaking sadness, nodding as she eventually lowered her gaze.

"Hum theek hain," she choked. "Aap?" (I am fine. You?)

With a sigh, he turned his eyes away from her to stare somewhere far away. "Theek." Then he simply moved out of her way to let her walk ahead of him to her car and he made sure to look at her as least as possible. (Good.)

***

When the driver opened the car boot, he silently placed the bags in, carefully. It was strange. She could not feel any love for this man. She could only feel sadness for him, after her fright had retreated. She trusted him when he said he only wanted to make sure she was doing fine. But she could not find any elation on seeing him, she could not feel any kind of love she had believed was there. Where had it gone?

He turned to her, not looking at her, and started moving away with an awkward smile but she could not let him go like that. She knew he had sensed her feelings. She could not break his heart and just stand there, could she?

"Barunji," she called out softly. He paused and his eyes uncertainly went to her face briefly before looking away again. Ashamed, she looked down. "Humein maaf kardijiye." (...Forgive me.)

"Aapki koyi galti nahin hai, Khushi. Mujhe khushi hai ke aap khush hain." (You are not to be blamed, Khushi. I am happy that you are happy.)

The pain was so blatant in his voice it filled her with guilt. She wished she had never looked at him that day in the cinema. It would have made life simpler for everyone... "Aap..." she tried to smile at him through her tears. "Aapko humse zyaada achhi ladki miljaayegi..." (You... You will find a girl better than me...)

When he looked at her again, one last time, his eyes were blank. "Mujhe nahin aisa nahin lagta." (I don't think so.)

And then, he had disappeared in the crowds before she had the time to react. Numb, she stumbled into the car that drove her back home.

***

"Khushi! Khushi!"

Usually, she would come bounding down the stairs and he would have to scold her, tell her to be careful, even though he did like the way her face lit up with that smile when he came back home. Today, nothing. He waited at the doorstep, then warily walked inside the dark house. Frowning, he turned the lights on as he made his way upstairs.

Dadi was not supposed to be home. In the morning itself, she had told them she was going to some prayer at a relatives place's in Sonarpur and she was going to spend the night there. But what about his wife? She had not called him at all although he had asked her to do so when she got home from the market. He willed his frantic heart to calm down. Nothing had happened. He had called home himself and Lali had picked up, reassuring him that Khushi had returned home, she had just gone to her room right away. Was she alright?

He found her sitting in a rather uncomfortable positing on the recliner in their room, fast asleep and her hair spilled on her face. Relief washed over him and he sighed, then smiled as he strode towards her. Arnav crouched before her to move her hair, tuck it behind her ear but he soon stilled. Her cheeks were blotchy and damp with tears. His smile immediately turned into a frown. What had happened to her? He knew she had been acting weirdly around him lately but he did not know why and he had not asked her because he wanted her to trust him enough to tell him what was bothering her by herself.

Even as he felt the urge to wake her up and ask her why she had been crying, he stood up and lifted her in his arms, instead. She moved slightly while he carried her to the bed and he hoped he had not awoken her but the damage was done. She blinked dazedly, her eyes setting on him and the relief and happiness that filled them struck him. She broke into a small smile and lifted herself off the bed to throw her arms around his neck and hug him tight, her face buried in his chest. He staggered, not knowing how to react.

His arms went around her slender torso as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Khushi, are you okay?"

She nodded, refusing to let go until a few more minutes. When she pulled back, there were tears in her eyes. "Humein aapse kuchh kehna hai..." (I have to tell you something...)

To tell the truth, he did not want to know. If it was hurting her and making her cry, he didn't want to let her go through it again, he didn't need to know but he also knew that to stop it - whatever it was - from hurting her, she needed to get it out. So, he nodded, his large hands cradling her face tenderly, catching and destroying every tear she shed.

***

And she told him about meeting Barun Ghosh. A flash of pain flared in his eyes, she saw it, but he concealed it quickly and listened to her with all his attention. Her heart twisted for doing this to him. She wished she could tell him her feelings for that other man had disappeared but she could not. She had no explanation for it. She didn't know how to say it.

"Khushi, if you-" he started.

But she had known already what he was going to say from the moment she had perceived that flash and she shook her head firmly, resting it back in its rightful place, on his shoulder, her arms sliding timidly around his waist.

"Humein aapke saath rehna hai." (I want to stay with you.)

For now, this was the only thing she could put in words for him. What she knew was that the one man who made her feel protected, happy and complete was her husband, and she knew that she did not want to lose him, whatever it cost her. What were her feelings for him? Did she love him? She did not know. She could not trust her heart or her mind or love itself anymore. She needed time, because time eventually brought the truth. She would figure out her true feelings with time. And she would tell him one day.

Slowly, she felt his stiff body relax against hers and he returned her embrace fiercely. She sighed in content, snuggling into him while a heavy weight lifted off her heart...

Shivering, she lowered herself in the plastic chair of the hospital's waiting room. She felt her cousin's fingers slide onto her shoulders for support as the doctor turned and left. A shaking breath escaped from her parted lips.

"Anjali," Khushi [earrings] sat down beside her, smiling and her eyes full of tears. "Suna tumne? Badi Ma theek ho rahi hain!" (Did you hear? Badi Ma is getting better!)

She felt her own lips stretch into a smile that was as wide as Khushi's, even as a drop of warmth ran down her cheek. She merely nodded enthusiastically, holding her cousin's hands tight. The doctor had just informed them that Garima's situation had stabilised and that her cancer appeared to be receding slowly. She would still have to come in for her treatment but they would be able to take her home now, after a few days of being under observation at the hospital.

The sudden lapse in Garima's health last week had delayed her daughter's departure to America by a few more weeks. After talking to Shyam and sought his permission, Anjali had finally decided to stay back for some more time and see if her mother could get better. If not, she would have stayed back until... Well, until everything was over...

But now that the doctor had confirmed Garima was improving, Anjali would look after her for a few more weeks but during that time, she would have a lot to deal with. She made a decision and talked to the mothers about it. They were going to sell the bookstore and appoint a nurse to look after Garima. She did not want them to have to worry about anything when she was not there. It had taken some persuasion, especially from Garima herself, but she had managed to convince them with Khushi's help.

Before she had even realised it, she was hugging Khushi, both crying with relief and Arnav stood above them, visibly hassled. Reddening, she pulled away with an awkward smile but he was not really paying attention to her. Instead, he was fixing his wife with such an expression of pain that it broke her heart. He probably didn't know it, but he was head over heels in love with her cousin and anyone who looked at him would know that. Khushi, unknowing of this, stared at her lap as she wiped her face.

Anjali smiled at her brother-in-law. "The doctor just said that it looks like Ma is getting better. We got a bit emotional."

He glanced at her for an instant before looking back at Khushi and this time, she looked at him sheepishly. "That's great news," he sighed, relieved. Anjali watched discretely as he sat down beside his wife to hold her hand in reassurance. Khushi smiled through her tears at him and Anjali left a weight lift off her heart.

Her mother was getting better. Khushi was really, truly happy and her husband loved her to bits. Now that she was sure everything was in order, she could leave the country with her mind at peace...

***

He wondered what was wrong with Dadi. She had been sighing every five minutes, looking gruffly towards the kitchen, where Khushi was, and at him too, since the morning. What new drama was she going to start now?

Arnav sat down at the table for lunch quietly, not wanting to encourage her. If his grandmother wanted to say something, she simply had to. She was no child, although she behaved like one very often to get things done her way. Luckily, Khushi was an obedient daughter-in-law who complied all her demands. It never worked with him.

Just as a smile began to draw on his face at the thought of his sweet wife, Khushi [earrings] walked into the room, balancing several dishes in her thin arms. Grinning, he got up to help her with them.

"Debina ka phone aaya tha," Dadi snapped so abruptly that Khushi almost dropped the dessert tray. He glared at his grandmother, who ignored him and continued acidly. "Uski nayi bahu peth se hai." (Debina called earlier. Her new daughter-in-law is having a baby.)

He clenched his jaws together, immediately understanding where this conversation was going. He glanced at Khushi. She had turned an adorable shade of red and was looking at the ground nervously, her knuckles going white as she clutched the tray tight.

"Dadi, maine aapse pehle bhi kaaha hai," he gritted out bitterly. "We are not ready to have kids just yet." (Dadi, I have told you before. [...])

"Aur isska kya matlab hai?" the old woman exploded, getting to her feet. "Arnav, jab hum aapki umar ke the-" (And what does that mean? Arnav, when I was your age-)

"Yes, I know! You already had two kids and you were going to have your third but we are not you, Dadi."

Her eyes rounded with fury and he felt Khushi look up at him pleadingly, silently begging him not to argue but he stood his ground firmly. He knew his grandmother. If he didn't stop her right away, she would start blaming Khushi openly for not producing an heir. And he was not going to let that happen. She was already getting on his wife's back more and more, it was unbearable to him.

"Aap Raizada khaandaan ke sabse bade bete hain, Arnav! Iss khaandaan ko waaris dena aapka kartavya hai! Hum nahin chaahte ke Sudeep-" (You are the oldest son of the Raizada family, Arnav! It is your duty to give an heir to this family. I don't want that Sudeep-)

"Look, Dadi, agar Sudeep ko baccha chahiye, then it's his problem. Aur agar voh baap bannewala hai, toh humein usske liye khush hona chaahiye, akhir voh aapka bhi pota hai, na? Khushi and I will have kids some day, just not now!" (Look, Dadi, if Sudeep wants a baby, then it's his problem. And if he is going to be a father, we should be happy for him, after all he is also your grandson, right?)

"Lekin sabse bade aap hain!" (But you are the oldest!)

"So?"

She huffed and turned to Khushi, her eyes blazing. "Sab tumhaari galti hai, bahu. Tum-" (It's all your fault, bahu. You-)

"Dadi, please!" Arnav snarled dangerously, stepping in front of a bewildered Khushi to shield her. "Don't bring Khushi into this. Yeh faisla mera hai." (... This is my decision.)

Subhadra looked at him with utter disgust before storming out. He sighed and turned around to find his wife shaking, her face lowered. A frown creased his face as he gently cradled her face and made her look up at him. "Theek ho tum?" (Are you alright?)

She shrugged, refusing to meet his eye and he sighed. Carefully, he took the tray from her, made her sit in his chair and kneeled down before her. "Kya hua?" he asked softly, but she only shook her head, tears running down her cheeks. "Khushi?" (What happened? Khushi?)

"Sab humaari galti hai," she broke into a sob. "Dadi sahi kehti hain." (It's all my fault. Dadi is right.)

"No! Dadi is wrong. Khushi, we aren't the only couple who's waiting a few years to become parents, you know? In fact, I think this is the best option. I think that after getting married, the two people should know each other well before bringing in a third person in their lives, especially for us, since our marriage was arranged and you..." his voice faded as he realised he shouldn't have gone that far.

But the damage was done. Her shoulders shook and she rolled onto herself. "Galti humaari hi hai." (It is my fault.)

"No, it's not," he growled. "It's not." He put his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, his lips in her hair. "Khushi, I could have forced myself on you right from the beginning and gotten you pregnant ages ago like Dadi wants. But I didn't do it and I never will. It's not your fault if we are not going to have a child yet, or even if you loved someone else. I never have, and never will blame you for any of this, do you understand? And even if... even if we had started out... normally... I would have wanted to wait at least one or two years to have a baby. It wouldn't change a thing."

She pulled away, surprised. "Kyun?" she hiccupped. (Why?)

He smiled at her innocent expression. "Many reasons... For one, I think you are too young, even if Dadi thinks you are not because at your age, she had already had my father. And I also really want to know you first, that's important to me. I want you to know me. I want us to have some time alone before having children." He briefly looked towards his grandmother's room. "But I have the feeling it's not going to be so easy for us to be alone."

She blushed slightly and looked down smiling, then looked at him curiously. "Sudeepji kaun hain?" (Who is this Sudeepji?)

"Sudeep?" he chuckled. "Mere chachaji ka beta. He's a couple years younger than me. A few weeks before I met you, he came back from Australia. He was studying there, met this girl and married her without telling us anything. Chachiji was thrilled to have a gori bahu, but not Dadi. Dadi and Chachaji had a huge row because he decided to accept Skye even when she asked him to disown Sudeep so they don't talk anymore and they didn't even come to our wedding. Chachiji calls sometimes to talk to Dadi, but she always ends up gloating about her daughter-in-law, which makes Dadi burn."

Her smile had widened a bit as he was telling her about his weird, twisted family and she looked absolutely gorgeous from where he was looking at her. Hell, she always looked heart-breakingly beautiful. Every time he looked at her and realised she was his wife, he felt an overpowering surge of emotions that threatened to knock him off his feet.

"You shouldn't care about what she says, Khushi. You know, I think I should send her back to her ashram."

She gasped and slapped his arm. "Dadi hain voh aapki! Aapko aisa nahin kehna chaahiye. Voh badi hain... shayad sahi bhi..." (She is your grandmother! You shouldn't speak like that about her. She is older... maybe even right...)

He shook his head decisively. "No, she's not. Hum apne faisle khud leinge. Humaare liye kya sahi hai aur kya nahin, yeh hum decide kareinge. We'll do things at our own pace, okay?" he soothed her resolutely. (... We will make our own decisions. We will decide what is right for us and what is not. [...])

Khushi stared at him for a moment, tearful but still smiling, then nodded, tightening her hands around his larger ones thankfully.