Shopaholic V/S Workaholic - Thread 5 (Reposting)

As soon as she lay eyes on the couple before her, Anjali's giggles died.

"Ahm... Erin, I'll call you later!" she chirped in the phone before barring her eyes with her free hand and walking to the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

"Guys! I... didn't see anything! Please, continue... making out!" she rambled, amusement ringing clear in her voice.

That brought Khushi to her senses. She sat up instantly, pushing Arnav aside and blushing furiously.

"We weren't making out!" she retorted hotly, standing up, as her boyfriend followed, equally embarrassed.

Anjali turned to her. "I see," she grinned back teasingly. "Look, I'm sorry I interrupted on you two like that. I didn't mean to!"

"We weren't doing anything-" Arnav stopped, clamping his lips together as a smile was forming there. "We were just... talking."

"Really?" the girl eyed him and Khushi with that irritating don't-lie-to-me-I-know-the-truth glint in the eyes. "Like that? One on top of the other?"

Khushi blushed deeper and threw a cushion at her friend. "Anjali Jha!"

She got just a giggle for answer. "You guys want something to eat or drink?" Anji asked, disappearing into the kitchen. Her absence dipped the remaining two people in a strange awkward silence which made them acutely aware of each other's presence.

Arnav cleared his voice and threw a side-glance at Khushi, who, he found, was looking at him furtively too. He broke into a grin. She smiled back shyly, the action making his heart leap. How he wanted her to accompany him to New York...

Life without this girl was practically impossible, even though she was the maddest he had ever encountered. But wasn't that why he loved her?

When he had spoken to her parents earlier, they had been quite reluctant and he couldn't blame them. Who would let their daughter go to an unknown place with a man they barely knew? But Tanishq and Ulka had surprisingly stepped in to persuade them and once they had understood Arnav really loved Khushi, they had allowed him to ask her.

Ulka's question had, however, been very unsettling, which was the reason he had not breached the subject earlier. "Why don't you marry her, Bhai?" Why? He knew Khushi deserved that; marriage, a good loving husband and the whole package that came along. But he didn't feel himself capable of giving her that... yet. And that made him guilty.

But he couldn't leave her either! If only someone could understand that. The way he felt about her. the way he way felt when she wasn't there. It was like suffocating. He couldn't leave her, he couldn't live without her... She was a drug he was addicted to, dependant upon...

He watched the white edge of her teeth appear as she bit her lip, wishing Anjali hadn't come in just when he was about to kiss her. His eyes roved on the rise and fall of her chest and she breathed deep, her sparkling eyes unconsciously drinking in his image too.

Shit!

He had to leave. He absolutely had to leave before he grabbed her and... did something to her, with Anjali in the next room. Arnav tore his gaze away, feeling the heat creep up his neck, and reached for his BlackBerry.

"I've got to go!"

Khushi's heart sank as she watched him saunter out of the apartment...

***

The same afternoon, she was striding towards his office, her figure taut with tension.

"You won't give me another break-up scare, will you?" he asked, eyebrows raised, as soon as she entered his cabin. Khushi blushed, her eyes downcast. She shook her head, making a small smile appear on his face.

Arnav got up from his chair to walk up to her. "Then?"

"Voh..." she dared a glance at him before shutting her eyes tight. He had to admit it was quite unnerving to see the nervous side of her again. He had been so used to his very daring eighth wonder of the world. What would she do if he pulled her leg a teeny bit more?

"Khushi, I understand," he told her gently. "If you don't want to come to New York with me, there's no problem!"

Immediately, her eyes popped wide open and she stared at him in awe. Amused, Arnav's lips constricted into an adorable pout.

"I believe Miss Sukhmani is willing."

"Haww!" she exclaimed, her mouth opening in a perfect 'o'. Anger imprinted itself on her face and she punched his shoulder. "Sochiyega bhi mat Mr Raizada! Hum uss chudail ko aapke paas bhatakne bhi nahin deinge!" (Don't even think about it, Mr Raizada! I won't let that witch come near you!)

He haughtily lifted an eyebrow as he advanced on her, until her back hit the wall behind her. Arnav leaned in closer and closer to her.

"Oh really, Miss Gupta? Kyun? Tumhein itna farak kyun padta hai?" (...Why? Why Do you care?)

Khushi blinked. His lips were just a breath away from hers. "Kyunki aap sirf humaare hain," she whispered, her breathing unsteady. (Because you belong to me!)

"So you're coming with me?" he murmured huskily.

Before she could think of a reply, his phone gave a loud beep.

"ASR? Mr Marx is here for the conference," came his assistant's voice from the machine.

He sighed and pulled back with a painful expression. Again interrupted! Right when he was thinking about kissing her. What was wrong with people on this Earth? Why the heck were they so jealous?

"I seriously hate these people," he grumbled. Khushi giggled as he went back behind his table to pull his charcoal Giorgio Armani jacket on and pick up the file he'd need.

Before he knew it, she had crept up behind him, thrown her arms around his neck and smacked a deep kiss low on his jaw. Arnav stood there, petrified with bewilderness. Had she just made the first step? Khushi Kumaari Gupta had never made the first step before!

"Aap jahaan jaane ko kehenge, hum aapke saath chaleinge!" she smiled at him.(Wherever you'll tell me to go, I'll come with you!)

He was still staring at her in shock when she took off as fast as her black suede kitty heels by Jimmy Choo would allow her. He was still stunned there, thinking if that had all only been a figment of his wild imagination, when Aman called again to tell him to come to the conference room...

***

"So you'ree moving to New York?" Anjali blurted incredulously.

"It's just for six to seven months, Anji!"

"But still! How will I-? Nothing will be the same without you! I'll be all alone!"

Khushi narrowed her eyes at her friend. "Don't be silly! Shyaam will still be here, won't he?" She went back to stirring the curry in the pan and pitifully missed the blush that turned Anjali red like a tomato.

"What do you mean?" Anjali squeaked.

The doorbell rang, stopping Khushi from answering. She checked the time. Ten past seven. It was only Shyam who could come at this time but he had told them he would be in Glasgow for another three days. She frowned and went to open the door. Maybe he had gotten here earlier than expected.

Instead of the silly-looking Shyam, she found her hot-looking boyfriend at the door. Though he was smirking, his eyes were hooded and darker than usual. He had abandoned his jacket, the sleeves of his black shirt had been rolled up to his elbows and he still wore his loosened pearl grey silk Hermes tie under his charcoal waistcoat.

Her eyes grew wide with surprise. He had come to see her twice in a single day and she hadn't even pleaded to him for it! Was it really Arnav Singh Raizada? She wondered what had happened now. She hadn't left any message on his phone right? No, she hadn't.

Definitely not! Then?

"I want you to do that again," he announced, poker faced.

She stared at him, blinking like an idiot.

"I want you to do that again," he repeated, slower this time, as if he was talking to a child.

"Do what again?" Khushi spluttered with a frown. Maybe it was a mistake? Because Arnav Singh Raizada took a step closer to her. It caused a sharp intake of breath in her and her eyes widened in fear. But she found herself technically unable to move. The soles of her feet were locked to the ground, so she could only stand there as he leaned in on her, his stubble grazing her soft cheek and his lips a caress against her ear.

"Kiss me," came the whisper that sent a shudder down her body.

Could she resist that sultry voice? Slowly, as though entranced, she turned her face, her breaths shallow and hastened, until her lips touched his jaw. She heard him inhale shakily and his hand came up to her waist to hold her closer. Her heart had perhaps never beaten at that rate in her whole existence before. He had started shifting himself. Khushi's breath catch when she realised he was angling his face against hers to kiss her lips.

She closed her eyes, trying to convince her brain to remember how to breathe but it was impossible. She felt him so close that-

Without even meeting, they jumped poles apart as the phone in the apartment rang shrilly. Khushi had turned red with embarrassment and her eyes were closed as she tried to steady herself while Arnav stood outside the apartment, visibly fuming. Ever since he had met her, there was something coming in between them, and seriously, it was not fair at all.

Anjali popped in, without noticing Arnav. "Khush! Your mom," she handed her the phone. It was only when Khushi had opened her wide eyes full of fright to glance out of the door before she snatched the phone and ran away that her friend noticed the man. "Arnav?" She smiled. "Again? Had you forgotten something here earlier... by chance?" she teased.

But her bestie's boyfriend was definitely in a don't-joke-with-me-right-now mood. He gave the girl an angry glare.

"I think I'll leave now," he gritted out darkly, as he stomped away leaving a befuddled Anjali staring at his retreating back.

As he walked down to his car, Arnav tried to refrain from mentally cursing the people around them. Back then, in Lucknow, it had been her family, calling her for something each time he got to be alone with her. Then, there had been the life insurance scandal after which they had started dating. But even at that time, his business and her job came between them. Now, even if he did manage to tear himself off work for her, Anjali and again her family were bent on interrupting. He could only hope these six months in New York would break down the barriers...

He opened the door to get in, but he paused right there. A smirk was tugging at his lips, desperate to surface because of the last image he had had of his eighth wonder. She had looked so naive, all scarlet and with her eyes broad with innocence. God, he loved her. On a hitch, he raised his eyes to the window of her apartment.

Khushi stood there, the phone still glued to her ear. But she was looking at him, a sort of expectation in her eyes. She might have been hoping he'd turn back to look at her once before going. And he did. A delighted smile crept on her lips as she waved at him, and finally Arnav let that grin settle on his face.

That evil-loaded grin, which crashed her defences down and reduced her to a puddle of mush and made her lose her mind. She watched him add a disarming wink to complete the effect, which was, of course, designed to make her swallow her tongue, before he got into his car with a fluid movement and purred away.

"Khushi? Bitiya, kya hua?" Garima repeated over and over again, at least ten times to finally jerk her dazed child out of her trance. (...What happened, child?)

"Huh? Kya?" Khushi stammered. Her mother ranted on about something Akaash's bossy mother had done but it was like the girl had gone deaf. She didn't quite hear the words. All she could think about was the meaning of that look her boyfriend had just shot her. Why did she get this feeling that the New York trip would bring between them something that had never existed before? (Huh? What?)

***

"I think I need to find a job," she said, placing his plate on the table, where he usually sat facing her.

Arnav barely looked up from his laptop. He kept scowling at it while he typed furiously. Obviously, things weren't working out as he wanted. Khushi sighed. It had been two weeks since they had been in New York and she hadn't had a single second with him.

From the moment they had landed, phone calls , mails and messages had started pouring in. Instead of grabbing the cab with her to the apartment for a well deserved rest, he had sprinted into another one after having tossed the keys to her because he had an urgently preponed meeting. He had returned home hours later, his face haggard with lack of sleep and he had toppled on his bed fully dressed, falling asleep even before touching the mattress.

With a gentle smile Khushi had sat beside him to take his shoes and socks off. She had learnt he never could sleep on an airplane, however comfortable he could be made. She tugged his jacket, waistcoat and tie off, despite his sleepy weight making it very difficult. Then, she had slipped in beside him, her arm resting across his stomach while her head in the crook of his neck. She had kissed his scratchy cheek and drifted into a light sleep, to wake up before him and cook them a dinner.

Which he had not eaten due to yet another meeting. And it had not stopped there; that had been only the beginning. Most of the days, she never saw him. He left early in the morning before she could wake up and he returned in the dead of the night, when she was asleep. She did try to wait for him, like she had often seen Garima do for Shashi. But she would doze off on the sofa, in front of a film she was watching to stay up, to wake up the next morning, warm in bed with breakfast ready on the table.

There were times when she tried to call him at work. Even if he was not in one of those meetings or conferences and she did get to him, the conversation would never last more than five minutes because he had to rush somewhere. Khushi only had the time to ask him if he was well. Whenever he spoke to her, the guilt was cumbersome in his voice but she didn't want him to feel like that. She understood he had to work for the expansion he wanted to bring in his business though she couldn't comprehend the need to work himself to death for that.

And his shooting-up-to-the-stars workaholism was also significantly increasing his temper. When she did see him and tried to talk him out of working so much he would fire that furious glare at her which shut her up. He was hardly even eating when he was at work, so she dutifully cooked the best things she could, usually his favourite foods and leave it out for him with a pleading note. And satisfactorily enough, the vessels would be empty the next morning. She would wash them up with a grin. At least he got to eat to his fill at home.

Doing these chores meant a lot to her, and that was why she needed to get out of here and find a job. Staying at home, waiting for him, cooking for him, all these things always made her feel like she was married to him and that broke her heart because she knew it was not a tie he wanted nor liked very much. And she wondered if he was aware of that too. She didn't want him to have more than he already had on his hands.

"Are you even listening to me?" she mouthed, her eyes moistening. Another week of working like that and he'd resemble a full-fledged zombie. She almost hated him for giving so much to his work. He grunted something incomprehensible without looking up.

This was one of the rare nights he could be home and he was totally ignoring her. Well, maybe that wasn't intentional but it hurt. Khushi steeled her herself, keeping her eyes on the risotto that was going cold but which he had not bothered to look at.

"I'm getting bored at home, so I think I should," she rambled on, the knowledge that he wasn't hearing pricking at her heart. "I already applied at some places and I have a bunch of interviews tomorrow."

Arnav failed to react. He was still frowning at the screen. Unknown to her, her patience suddenly snapped and she stood up violently. "Eat your dinner, dammit!" she shrieked feverishly at him. It finally pulled a response from him. His head snapped up jerkily, drawing him out of his daze and he stared at her in confusion, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide. He looked like he had just gotten out of a dream.

Indeed he had been so completely engrossed in his work that he had lost touch with his senses and that had unconsciously made him ignore her. When his mind had finally registered her words, his shouldered slumped with guilt. But Khushi had missed the whole of it. She had stormed into her room, confident that he would come out of it this time too.

His mistakes dawning on him, he sighed, felling his head in his large hands. He had been so unfair to her even since they had been here. The business, exhaustion and guilt were all killing him. He rubbed his eyes and hauled himself off the high chair, both their plates in hand and went over to the microwave to reheat the dinner she had taken so much pain to make and which he had let go cold. When the dishes were warm enough, he dubiously strode to her room.

Arnav Singh Raizada did have some amends to make to someone...

He entered the dark room and made out her figure lying on the bed. Awkwardly, he turned the lights on. Her back faced the door, he noticed, as he placed the dishes on the bedside table. Her eyes were closed, telltale traces of dampness on her flushed cheeks. He knew she was not asleep. She was just pretending to evade him. Well, if she wanted to work with silence, so he could too.

Arnav trailed his hand on the mattress until it reached her soft creamy hand. He slipped his hand into hers, clasped it tightly. Khushi chose to let it limp and not to hold him too. He smirked. She was clearly proving she was awake because his Khushi would always clutch him when he neared her as she slept. He tenderly lifted her hand to his lips, kissing each fingertip, her knuckles, her palm, and finally the inside of her wrist, right above her pulse.

Her eyebrows twitched as she tried to shove away some feeling deep inside and stay concentrated on her pretence. It wasn't going to work with him, though. He slid his arms around her and with one fluid tug, he was hugging her to his chest, kissing to top of her head, then burying his face in her dark waves.

"I'm sorry," he murmured in her ear.

Her resistance broke at his defeated tone. She never could really bear it when he used that voice because for her, Arnav Singh Raizada was the strongest man alive. He could never break down, whatever happened. She snuggled her head in the crook of his neck, trying to blink away the tears, and stayed there unmoving. When he pulled back to look at her, it felt like her heart cracked. A tremor shook her while she lifted her hand to trace the dark circles around his sincere eyes.

"I'm really sorry, Khushi."

"And I'm really hungry," she smiled.

Chuckling, he offered her a plate and they ate in silence. They did the dishes together. Khushi washed them, Arnav wiped them.

"So, you wanted a job?" he asked her casually, although his heart was sinking in guilt. This was not why he had brought her to New York. Not to be imprisoned in the apartment like a housewife. He wanted a life with her, but somehow, right now, he didn't seem to have sufficient time for her.

Instead of wooing his girlfriend, he had to woo investors and clients. And he had thought it would be a nice break for them, he would finally be able to get closer to her without interference from people around... What a gigantic misunderstanding that had been?

Khushi nodded. "I need one. I can't stay at home alone, you know me," she laughed. "I need people around me, I need someone to talk all day long!"

And this is exactly what I cannot give you right now, he thought. "Come to the office tomorrow, You can be my PA and that will also help us spend time together," he suggested.

"What?" she spluttered as if he had committed a huge, unpardonable blunder.

He stared at her blankly. "What?" he echoed.

But she was shaking her head in disapproval.

"What?" he repeated, flustered by her rebuttal.

She eyed him like one would look at an immature but obstinate five year old. "Arnav, I cannot work in your company!"

He frowned as he took another spoon to dry it with the little blue towel in his hand. "Why?"

"Because we are... in a relationship."

"So what?"

Khushi rolled her eyes. "Then it will harm us. Instead of keeping us together, work will draw us further apart! And besides, I don't want to work in the PR world anymore. It's not for me. I want a job which defines me."

"A job which defines you?" Arnav chuckled. "Are you serious?"

Her lower lip jutted out in a cutely cross pout. "Haan!"

He crossed his arms over his chest as if challenging her, leaning his hip against the kitchen counter. "And by that you mean?"

She shrugged silently, causing him to narrow his eyes suspiciously. "You told me you had applied for some jobs, earlier?"

"You were listening?" she spluttered, her eyed wide with surprise.

He raised his chin thoughtfully, his gaze unmoving from her. Should he tell her the truth or a lie? No, the truth was a better choice right now. "I wasn't paying attention but I did hear it."

The honesty on his face kept her from getting angry. Khushi smiled as she wiped her hands on a napkin.

"What jobs did you apply for?" he enquired, seeing a gorgeous crimson blush seep up her cheeks, staining her clear porcelain skin.

She bit her lip. "I was lying. I thought you weren't listening, so I rambled on about some nonsense that came to my mind. I haven't applied anywhere yet."

Arnav grinned down at her, shaking him head. He pulled her in a fierce hug. "You silly girl. My offer is still open, and it will always be, okay?" He tried stifling a yawn but she caught him red-handed.

A stern expression set on her face and she took his hand dragging him to bed. "I hate it when you work yourself to death like this," she grumbled while he buried his face in her stomach, sleeping with his head on her lap. It had taken her huge amounts of efforts to seek ignore the tingling sensation he evoked in her whole being by that simple deed and put on a firm tone.

His answer was muffled, partly by lethargy, partly by her flannel pyjamas. The only things she could make out were, "have to" and "prove myself".

Who did he have to prove himself to, she wondered?

***

"Are you free right now?" she felt the excitement vibrating in his voice and smiled.

"Yeah, why?" Khushi asked as she stopped walking.

Only that morning, she had employed a maid to do the housework for her, then she had caught a cab to uptown. It had been too many weeks since she had last shopped and that was making her sick. She needed to spend money. She needed to feel that thrill of being in a shop, feel the tremor that shook your insides when you swipe your credit card and magically, whatever you wanted becomes yours...

"Okay, come to Ouest Restaurant. It's on Broadway. As fast as you can!"

She stopped, frowning. "Now?"

"Of course now!"

"But... what happened?"

"Just come!" he hissed before drily cutting off.

"What the - ?" she muttered as she stepped on the pavement to hail a taxi.

***

Her eyes fell on him as soon as she turned away from the taxi. Arnav was pacing restlessly in front of the restaurant doors, tapping his mobile in this hand. She checked the time. Ten twenty-five. She had reached there in record time. Why was he so edgy? And how had he gotten time for lunch in that tight schedule of his?

Then she smiled slightly. Maybe he had realised he needed to take breaks and spend more time with her. Maybe he wanted to propose?

Khushi killed that little ray of hope her brain had created before it rose and grew too much. She shouldn't expect too much. Neither from him, nor from life. Because as far as she knew them, both were apt in playing tricks and breaking hearts.

With a little smile, she straightened her lemon knee-length Gap sundress, tossed her long sleek dark hair over her shoulder and crossed the street in her four inch-high spiked-heeled denim Gucci pumps, towards him.

He looked up, his eyes wide and eager, catching her elbow as she crossed the threshold and dragged her inside without a word. He sat her beside him in a reserved booth while his hand travelled down to grip her hand.

"Khushi," he sighed, a nervous light flickering in his agitated eyes. "I have something very important to tell you..."

"I want you to meet my mother!" he blurted uncertainly.

He watched her grimace in confusion. "But I've met Pavitraa Aunty, remember? And your dad too!"

Arnav shook his head impatiently. "Not mom! My mother!" he said, stressing on the last two words.

Her features were still clouded with confusion but it soon drained away as realization replaced it. "You mean..." her voice died and she bit her lip fiercely. His mother, who had given birth to him, and then left him and his father just because she couldn't be happy nor would she try to. His mother, the woman who was the reason behind his reluctance against marriage.

Why did it seem so strongly - strong like the smell of burning chillies - that she would not like that woman? She looked at him again. He seemed troubled, almost nervous with a dash of excitement, like a student waiting for his results, who knew he had done well but was still unsure. He was eager to meet his mother, it dawned on her with the same impact as the World Trade Centre coming crashing down on her.

"You know..." he licked his lips tensely. "This is why I came to New York. Yeah, I want to expand but I also want to make her know me! I want her to be proud of me! This is one of the reasons I'm working so hard... Do you understand me, Khushi?"

Speechless, she could no nothing else but nod. A small smile erupted on his face as he bent to kiss her cheek. His mother...

She tried to put herself in his shoes. What would she have done? With a sigh, she realised that she might not have been too different. It was the mother-child relationship, wasn't it? Where every mistake was forgiven selflessly? In the same way as a mother could love her child, however bad or good it might be, a son could equally forgive his mother for deserting him all these years...

She gave him a bright smile and squeezed his hand. She would do anything for him. Maybe her mother wouldn't be so bad. After all, her son, despite all his faults was endowed with a golden heart. they could not be very dissimilar. She would try to get along with her, for him.

"You don't think I'm crazy, do you?" he mumbled, tightening his grip on her hand.

She shook her head indulgently. "She'd your mother. Wanting to make your mother proud of you is not being crazy. So, when are we meeting her?"

Arnav glanced at his watch. "Well, she should be here in fifteen."

***

"Oh, please! I don't want all of this formality stuff, Arnav. Just call me Varsha," the woman waved dismissively at him.

Khushi had a hard time preventing her eyes to shoot wide open since Arnav's mother entered the restaurant. She was supposed to be, what? Late forties? Early fifties? Well, at least she was the mother of a twenty-nine year old man. But she did not look like one.

She could bet her life his mother got herself a Botox regularly. Her hair was dark blonde - bleached or dyed, that was sure - with lighter highlights. She looked more like a sexy bimbo in her halter neck top and denim shorts which reached her mid thighs. She looked so alien-like, Khushi almost dragged Arnav away to ask him whether he was sure this was really his mother.

The woman had looked at the two of them as though they were a heavy chore being dumped on her but most certainly, Arnav would have missed that. Wanna bet?

"Ahh..." Arnav fumbled helplessly for the words to introduce his mother and Khushi but he didn't really know how to continue when his own mother had actually, in a sense, forbidden him from calling her mother.

As if comprehending his dilemma, Khushi swooped in to help. "I'm Khushi, Arnav's girlfriend," she put her hand forward awkwardly.

Varsha eyed her hand coldly before touching it for the barest second with her fingertips. Would it be not-very-nice if Khushi decided Pavitraa was a much better and warmer mother, even if she was the step-mom? Okay, maybe Arnav wouldn't take that well...

***

"So, what do you think?" he asked as they got in a taxi to return to the apartment.

When she turned to him, he was grinning enthusiastically, like a boy who had just met Santa Claus. Deep inside, Khushi felt a stab. She felt sorry for him. She wasn't one to judge, but the feeling that Varsha would never give him the attention he wanted, needed was staggering. And she knew he would never accept that if she told him.

She smiled back at him tightly. "She's... nice," she lied.

He chuckled foolishly, giving her a sideways hug. "The two of you will get along really well."

Khushi could only hope she was wrong about Varsha.

***

"You're leaving?" she spat accusingly as he strode to the door.

Arnav turned to face her with a wince. "Sorry. There's this investor, he's really interested and-"

"But I just made tea! And I even opened the Gingernut Cookies, you love Gingernut Cookies!" Khushi objected.

He slumped his shoulders as he walked over to hug her. "I'm really sorry, but I need to go. This is really important!"

She set her jaws together firmly. "More than me?"

Arnav opened his mouth without any sound coming out, he looked away, groping deep inside his brains for an appropriate answer. "Khushi, this is not done!" he finally told her.

She stared at him blankly before getting herself out of his arms. He watched as she grabbed her tea and biscuits without another glance at him and settled in the armchair, turning the television on. Arnav sighed heavily and bent to kiss the cheek, which he missed because she moved away. He knew she was hurt but he really had to go. Arnav Singh Raizada could not miss out on opportunities.

"I'll come back soon okay," he whispered but she acted deaf to him.

***

"Mr Dhawan," he greeted the man as he took his seat. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

Ram Dhawan smiled at the young man pleasantly. "No worries son. Was it the wife keeping you back?" he teased.

Arnav's eyes widened and coloured up slightly, neither of the reactions going unnoticed by Ram. "What? No-no-no!"

"Don't be shy, son! I've been through that too!"

Arnav smirked. "It's not the wife actually, it's the girlfriend!"

***

"Khushi!" he called out when he opened the door of the apartment. He had rung the doorbell for quite some time but no one had answered, so he had let himself in with his own set of keys. Either she was out, or she was still upset.

He stepped into the kitchen to see if she was there but he found the maid instead. "What the-? Polly? I've been at the door for so long! Why the hell didn't you answer?"

The girl shrugged. "Madam said not to open."

"Where is she?" he sighed, repressing the urge to swear out loud.

"Bedroom," Polly told him, about to resume cleaning the stove but Arnav interrupted her.

"You can go home for today."

The maid shrugged again and went off to take her things while Arnav made his way to her room. Khushi was sitting on the floor weeping uncontrollably as she took down a tub of mint ice-cream with chocolate chips. For a minute, he felt scared and guilty; was she crying because of him? He started towards her, on the brim of panic, when he realised her eyes were riveted on the screen before her.

He swallowed his 'what-the' to stare at her in disbelief before switching to the television. He knew that serial. She loved it and mooned over the guy like crazy. What was it again? Yeah, Ghost Whisperer. The episode with the kid who had died in an accident but his soul refused to go because his parents thought they were responsible for his death? He rolled his eyes. She always cried when she watched that and she had done it zillions of times.

Usually when she was sad, and with time, he had understood why she did it. He gulped guiltily. She did it to imagine how it would be like in Melinda Gordon's place because Mel's husband, Jim, loved her infinitely. He loved her so much that he had returned from death in the most surprising way and found her again to be with her...

Arnav sank down beside Khushi silently. He wished they could simply be Melinda and Jim, with a simpler life they had. Jim was a paramedic, that was how he had met Melinda - owner of an antique shop, and he had all the time of his life to spend with her. Except when he died but even then, he fought his way back to her didn't he? Things messed up sometimes, when the ghost thing got a little complicated but they did patch up in the end.

He wished he could give her that life. He wished he could give her that much time, love and understanding. He wished he could always be there for her. He wished he could be to her what Jim was to Mel. Hell, he wished he could give her that marriage he knew how much she wanted but denied because of him.

But he couldn't. Life was no serial or film. He still was not able to remove the memory of his parents' arguments they had when they thought he had gone to sleep. He still was not able to forget the pain he had been living in for the past several years even with Pavitraa there. He had only just started to heal and it was all because of Khushi...

He didn't want to make the mistakes his parents had made. He needed time to be sure. And he needed to work. He had the opportunity right now, he had to take full advantage of it right now. So that later, when he was finally able to accept the idea of getting married - which he knew was possible - and when he would marry her, then he would have all the leisure to spend as much time as he wanted with her, only her, and their kids of course.

He just had to make her understand that...

"I hurt you a lot, don't I?"

She pretended to have not heard anything and kept staring at the screen where another episode of Ghost Whisperer had been loaded. Arnav sighed. The hurt was so evident on her face he could have shot himself dead right there for inflicting that on her. He took her hand in his.

Aakhein band karloun jo main
Dekhoun bas tumhein

"I'm sorry, yaar..." he whispered, trying to bring her knuckles to his lips and kiss it but she deftly snatched it away and tucked her hand under her chin on her knees. Defeated, he buried his face in her hair, on her shoulder. They stayed like that in silence for quite a long time. Khushi's gaze remained fixated on the television although she didn't really see what was happening there as her vision was clouded by her own tears.

Khwabon mein hi keh sakta houn
Apna tumhein

"Why do you always do this to me?" she finally spoke, her voice leaden with agony, making Arnav look up at her. She stared back at him, the hurt in her brown depths sending arrows and spears of guilt through his heart. "You always hurt me, you make me angry, and you make me want to never speak to you again... I want to punish you in the worst way possible..." she sobbed, hiccups interrupting her from time to time as he watched burning in the fires of culpability. "Sometimes I want to leave you and go off somewhere and never come back... and let you die of regret! But then... you come back with this... this apology that melts my heart and determination and..."

Rehne de mera yeh vehem pe hi yakeen
Na jaa abhi...

Frowning, he cupped her cheek and brought her head to his shoulder, shifting both of them so that she sat there, nestled in his lap, while he hugged her tight. Her tears dripped silently from her eyes onto his crisp shirt. Arnav let her pour it all out.

Pyaar ki yeh raat hai
Ab na jaa
Chhoti si ek baat hai
Ab na jaa

"I'm so sorry, Khush..." he muttered as he rocked her slowly, his forehead against her temples. "I don't want to go away from you, ever, but you must try and understand... What I am doing now, it's for us, for our future..."

She lifted her head to look at him in confusion and he smiled, wiping her wet cheeks. "I love you, Khushi Kumaari Gupta," he chuckled. "I don't know what you think, but I love you with everything I possess, and even if it's not today, not tomorrow, or day after tomorrow, whatever, I assure you that there will be one day that I'll ask you, beg if I need to, to accept this miserable guy into your life forever as your husband."

Tumhi se hain meri neendein
Na bhi ho to kya

Khushi's jaw fell open but he continued, nonetheless. "If you say no," Arnav smirked, despite the sheen of moisture on his eyes, "I'm warning you already that I won't be taking that as an answer, get that? And when we'll be married, Khushi, I think I'll be wanting to give you and our children all of my time possible. That's why I'm killing myself now! You know, my mother used to complain to my dad he never had time for her. I think that's why their love died out so fast. I don't want that to happen with us too, because what share is more precious that my own life to me. You are the reason why I live, Khushi. And I don't ever want to lose you..."

Tumhi se hain meri baatein
Na bhi ho to kya

As his voice broke over those words, she bit her lip and ran a hand in his hair. It was a gesture to tell him to stop, to make him know she understood but he did not seem to get it.

"I love you so much it hurts, Khushi... Every second without you is like hell. This world burns me up, but you're like a soothing shade in my life... I... You must be thinking I'm such a selfish man, I think just about myself, my company and all but..." he paused to hide himself in the hollow of her neck and she pulled him closer by smoothing her hand down his head to his back repeatedly. "I'm sorry, Khush... That's all I can ask from you. Just try understanding me... I love you."

Kehne de taaron ko kahaani ankahi
Na jaa abhi...

His grasp on her tightened as hers did too. She rubbed the tension and fatigue from his back and massaged his scalp slowly as she held him to her heart with a small smile. This man was no more than a child at heart, she realised. Khushi turned her head to press a kiss in his ebony hair and she remained that way, inhaling his scent.

Pyaar ki yeh raat hai
Ab na jaa

Arnav pulled back some time later, his eyes slightly reddened. He blinked and a tear pearled at the corner of his right eye. She flicked it away immediately with her thumb.

Chhoti si ek baat hai
Ab na jaa

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"I'm fed up with your being sorry, Mr Raizada!" she half-smiled. "You'll have to learn from your mistakes soon."

Relieved, he chuckled, caressing her neck with his index. "We've known each other for seven months, we've been dating for six... you think you can wait another five or six?"

Pal do pal ka saath hai
Ab na jaa

Khushi laughed, a scarlet blush flooding her cheeks. Was he insinuating he could be ready for marriage in that time? She grinned. "Well, I guess you should be a bit quicker than that, beause you know, next time you cross the line and hurt me again I might just leave you in your burning world to die in misery!"

Jaadu si yeh raat hai
Ab na jaa

His expression hardened instantly, and before she had the time to know, his large hands were locked around her wrists in a painful grasp. His anger at that precise moment reminded of the Wolverine. Arnav did not even notice her cower in fear of this sudden change.

Ab na jaa

"Don't you dare, Khushi!" he growled. "Don't you ever think of leaving me again!"

Her lips parted in an inaudible gasp. He could be so possessive when she provoked him. "It's okay, Arnav," she murmured. "I won't leave you. I was just joking..."

"Don't you ever say that again, Khushi," he still warned her. "And don't even think of doing it, because I'm not letting you do such a thing!"

Maathe pe pyaar ki boondein
Bikhre se kayi savaal

Smiling, she extricated her hands from his to run them up the side of his head. She tugged him closer and kissed his forehead. "You think my heart will beat without you?"

Aakhon mein kitne mausam
Pal mein beete kitne saal

Arnav sighed and pressed his lips against her lower jaw, getting a shudder from her. "I love you."

Behne de jahaan bhi lejaye zindagi
Na ja abhi...

"I love you too."

Pyaar ki yeh raat hai
Ab na jaa

He took a last firm hug from her before he drew both of them to their feet. "Okay, now get ready. We're going out for dinner."

Chhoti si ek baat hai
Ab na jaa

Her mood would have brightened if she had not remembered Varsha. "With your mother?" she mumbled, trying to prevent the grimace from settling on her face.

"No," he shook his head with a short laugh. "It's a new investor of mine, Mr Ram Dhawan. He wants to meet you."

Khushi frowned up at him. His investor wanted to meet her? "Why me?" she gasped.

Arnav grinned down at his adorable girl. "Well, he wanted to meet the reason of my worry earlier today!"

Pal do pal ka saath hai
Ab na jaa

Her eyes widened in surprise. "The reason of your worry?" she echoed, somewhat puzzled.

He shook his head with a dramatic roll of the eyes and pecked at her damp cheek. "You were angry with me when I left, Khush, of course I'd be worried!"

Jaadu si yeh raat hai
Ab na jaa

***

Arnav released his breath quite uncomfortably as he waited for her to reach him stiffly. It made her worry, the way some kind of displeasure was clear on his face. She mentally checked her outfit. She was wearing a jade dress with a lacy white bolero on it, the translucent sleeves fitted against her arms and reaching just below her elbows. She had a thin white satin ribbon cinched at her waist in guise of a belt whereas nude coloured ballerinas adorned her white long and beautiful feet. Her waves cascaded down her shoulders freely. Her only jewellery were a pair of turquoise studs Tanishq had given her for her birthday and a silver watch.

He Devi Maiyya! What if she was underdressed to meet his investor? Was that why he seemed to be so uncomfortable? A frown marred her face as she approached him uncertainly.

"What happened?" she breathed with some difficulty and gulped, feeling his coffee brown gaze boring into hers lazily.

"You're punishing me, right?" he lowered his head slightly towards her as the valet opened the door of the car so that they could get in. Khushi's frown deepened in confusion. "Did you have to look so temptingly beautiful, Miss Gupta?" he ended up smirking, his eyes glittering disarmingly and his voice husky. She stared at him with her eyes wide until he gently pushed her inside.

Khushi excused herself to go to the washroom, giving Ram the opportunity to lash on Arnav incredulously.

"That girl is your girlfriend?" he spat.

Arnav shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His jaw hardened instantly. "Yes, why?"

"Are you out of your mind, Arnav? Why-?" Ram sighed. "She's such a gem, why the hell haven't you married her yet?"

"Wha-" Arnav frowned. Mr Dhawan's words were taking quite a while to sink in but when they did, he chuckled heartily. "Thank you for complimenting my choice, Mr Dhawan, but I want to give us more time before jumping into something."

Ram shook his head with a gentle smile. "You're being stupid! I would have married her on the day I met her if I were you!"

***

"Mr Dhawan is really nice, isn't he?" Khushi chirped as she handed him the glass of water and sank in the suede loveseat close to him.

Arnav grinned, wrapping his arm around of her shoulders to pull her into him. "Yeah."

She curled her feet under her. "He reminds me of your father."

"Really?" he laughed. "Maybe... He's the kind of typical father figure, right?"

"Is feels nice to have someone like him in this big city far from home, you know?"

He rested his head on her shoulder after he had gulped down the water and hmm-ed in approval. "You sure you... okay, kind of... with my mother?"

"What happened, Arnav?" her brow crumpled.

"Nothing," he lifted his head to look at her. "She said she wanted to have lunch with you tomorrow. You know... to... know you better? Do you mind?"

She smiled at the gleam in his expectant eyes. They no longer seemed to belong to the Arnav Singh Raizada she knew. They belonged to a much younger boy she could only imagine. And she would do anything to please that boy who lived in the man she loved.

***

She bustled into the restaurant, hoping she was not too late because if Arnav and Varsha had the same views on punctuality, she was going to get herself grilled.

"Hi!" she panted as she reached Varsha Singhania's table. "I'm sorry, traffic..."

Khushi received what resembled the coldest smile ever and she slid down into her chair with her cheeks burning.

"So, Khushi?" Varsha's lips drew into a thin line. "How are you?"

Of course, it was merely out of forced politeness. She didn't seem to care about Khushi's health and proved it seconds later by already speaking before Khushi had even opened her mouth to reply.

"Since when have you been dating my son?"

Something in her tone bit Khushi but she did not flinch. Instead she stared back at the woman.

"Your son?" she asked with faked innocence.

"Arnav, my son."

Khushi frowned. "But had you not asked him to relent from addressing you as his mother?"

That made Varsha shuffle uneasily. She cleared her voice before answering coolly. "I did, but he still is my son. I gave birth to him. And I asked him not to call me mother because I know I am not worth it. I realise that I was absent from his life for a long time. It's just the woman who raised him who has that right."

It took Khushi a lot of effort to prevent her jaw from dropping. Judging her words, Varsha could not be such a bad person after all. In fact, didn't she seem to have a character matching to her son's, as she had called him?

Both had this tendency to coat themselves in something hard, impenetrable, sour and bitter at the same time. But she had been able to make her Arnav open up to her and he was sweeter than any chocolate. Could his biological mother be the same?

***

She woke up to a kiss on her forehead and his scent.

"Arnav?" she mumbled at she pried her eyes open. He was grinning down at her and she suddenly felt herself being lifted off the couch. Her hands fisted around his collar immediately and Khushi snuggled her head on his shoulder, holding on to him for life.

She glanced at the clock as they passed by it on the way to her room. It was already one in the morning.

"How was your day?" he whispered as he gently dropped her on the bed.

"Fine," she yawned. "Why do you work so late?"

"I need to, Khushi," Arnav chuckled, kissing the inside of her wrist. "And lunch with my... with Varsha?"

She smiled at him slowly. "It was okay. She can be nice if I try her, I think."

***

With a sigh, she dumped the cubes of tomato in the large blue bowl. He would be late again. He had been for the past three weeks. And he would be in a foul mood again. If she still was awake when he did come, they could perhaps have another fight.

Khushi stared into the sink with pricky eyes as the memory of their last fight only a week ago flashed back to her. It had been about his mother; not Pavitra, Varsha. Ram Dhawan had come by that day with a plea. Arnav was over-doing for her. He was giving her an allowance way too high instead of saving the money for the investments they would need to make to stabilize the business in America. He had dispatched a whole team to be at the beck and call of his mother, who supposedly was founding some kind of institution.

Ram had tried to reason with him, but Arnav was adamant. So, Ram had thought he might listen to Khushi. He had been wrong. She had coaxed the matter into the conversation gently by bringing up Varsha. She had pretended not knowing anything but things had gone bad eventually. When she had asked what was the need to do so much because Varsha was much richer than him anyway, Arnav had lost his mind.

She had not seen him since then but he had never stopped putting her back into bed. He had never stopped eating what she kept in the oven for him. She sniffed and started shredding the mint leaves. She had fallen in love with him, she had chosen to be with him anywhere, anyhow. She would live with it.

Because she knew that deep down, he was too soft. And despite everything, the love would always be there.

Suddenly, Khushi felt herself being pulled back against what felt like a wall and hauled up off her feet before a prickly kiss had been smacked on her cheek. She was still in that shocked daze but her 'attacker' did not give her time to react or recover. She was turned around violent to be pressed between the counter and him.

"Hey!" he chuckled in her ear. "Happy Valentine's Day."

He pulled back to let her see his smiling face as he produced a bunch of blood red roses from behind his back. He was early. And he was not in a foul mood. But she was still upset.

Khushi turned away and went back to her mint leaves. "What's so happy about it?"

"I'm trying to woo you back, Khushi," he moaned, his voice drenched in childish hurt. "At least accept the flowers. They didn't do anything wrong, did they?"

She pursed her lips and tried to concentrate on her task rather than on the kissed that were peppering all over her shoulder.

"Please," he breathed regretfully. "I know I shouldn't have shouted at you like that, I'm sorry... Okay, I also realised that I've been f**king things," he stopped to chuckle when she craned her neck to stare at him with wide eyes. "I have been f**king things up very badly, lately, and I've been asking sorry too, pretty without learning from it... But... Right. Don't forgive me if you don't want to... but take the roses, they'll feel bad if you don't."

He placed them near her on the counter top and stepped back to lean against the island. "You're not going to talk to me, right?" he asked tonelessly.

Khushi turned a deaf ear to him and went on making the salad until she felt him move. She was already expecting him to hug her from behind and shower her with apologies but that never came. Instead, when she turned around, she was alone in the kitchen and the only signs of his returning home some time were the roses, his scent that lingered in the air and the slam of the apartment door...

She was just rubbing the tears away from her cheeks when the doorbell rang. Khushi went over to answer it with a sigh, only to find herself face to face with a gigantic bouquet of red - maybe all the possible shades of red - roses, misted with delicate baby's breath. It was impossible to suppress that loud gasp.

The bouquet was so big that the person who was holding it had his face hidden behind it and stood with a lot of difficulty.

"Miss Gupta?" she heard someone call her, but she was to shocked to react, so the person simply shouldered his way inside the apartment to keep the bouquet in. Maybe that was what snapped her out of it.

She followed the guy in with indignation, her fists on her hips.

"What the-?" she started angrily at his nerve but the smirk he wore on his face stopped her. Khushi suddenly found herself holding back a smile. Now, this was a very cute delivery guy.

"Your boyfriend is a jerk," he announced pleasantly, making her smile vanish.

"What?" she frowned. So he had finally lost it?

He just raised his brow and repeated the words slowly, carefully, as if explaining to a five year old. "Your boyfriend is a jerk. A total ass."

"Arn-"

"Who makes his girl cry on Valentine's Day?" he muttered, his face falling into a frown as he reached to wipe a dampness she might have missed out before flicking her nose teasingly. "Ditch him."

"Are you mad?"

He shook his head with a throaty chuckle. "Ditch him, run away with me. I promise I'll never put my work before you. I promise I will never fight with you. Not even because of my mother..."

She felt her eyes sting away and swatted his hand away. "Liar! You will!"

"How do you know?" he demanded stepping closer to her.

Khushi gave him a half-smile as she backed into the kitchen. "I know you."

He chuckled again. "Try me. Just ditch the jerk."

She laughed but shook her head with a pout. "I love him."

His eyes darkened. "Even if all he does is breaking your heart?" he snaked his hands around her waist, pulling him against his hard body.

"He doesn't always does that," she protested. "He loves me a lot you know. That's why we fight."

"Oh, really?" he smirked. Khushi nodded earnestly and he bent his head to nudge her nose with his. "Crazy woman! I'm famished will I get dinner?"

"I made it for him," she teased, giggling. "He's the only one who'll have it."

Her delivery guy stepped back with obvious disappointment. "I spent hours to find that magnificent bouquet and that huge box of chocolates, dammit! I have a right to dinner, don't I?"

But she kept staring at him. He narrowed his eyes. "Don't tell me you'll make me leave."

"Yes, I will," she laughed, dragging him towards the door even as he whined pitifully. "And return me my boyfriend, will you?"

"Why?" he lamented, standing in the doorway. "You don't need him. You could just spend this romantic night with me. What if your boyfriend fights with you again?"

She pulled his nose. "He won't!"

He smiled at her confidence and tilted his head to one side. "Fine, a goodbye kiss?"

With a roll of the eyes, she got onto her toes to brush her lips against his stubbled jaw. "Go!" she exclaimed as she pushed the door. It had barely shut when he rang the door bell again. Khushi grinned as she opened it and found herself engulfed in choking hug. It felt like he had thrown all his weight on her all of a sudden and she was staggering backwards.

"Arnav! Careful!" she laughed as they toppled onto the couch.

He pulled back when he realised they had fallen. "Sorry."

It was then that she realised how full his eyes were. "Arnav," she whispered, making him look at her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, letting her hug him close to her.

"How can you love me so much?" he whispered. "Don't you get sick? I'm such an ass..."

"Shh," she hissed crossly, bunching his hair in her hand to pull his head up so she could see his face. "I understand you, Arnav. I know you have your reasons for what you do..."

He laughed drily, without humour as he stared down at her. "You are too nice, Khushi. You don't want to accept how bad I really am. You should. It's like I never give a damn about your feelings but you're always there for me. You know how guilty I feel when I look back? I hate myself so much... Maybe one day you should really leave me..."

"Shut up!" Khushi scolded him, but Arnav went on firmly.

"No. One day, when I cross the limits and really hurt you, leave me, Khushi. Make me realise how selfish and stupid I am. Because you deserve more than being hurt over and over again."

She frowned and pulled at his cheek. "If you know it, Mr Raizada, then why don't you change? Why do you keep on repeating your mistakes?"

He gave her a small smile. "I can't help it. I think I need a good punishment... Remember to ditch me one day."

When she scowled harder and slapped his chest, he laughed and bent down to kiss her nose. "I'm serious, Khushi. Ditch the selfish bas***d the next time he breaks your heart. That ought to change him. Okay, I'm dying of hunger here. You think we can have dinner now?"

***

"By the way, how did you leave office so early today?" Khushi smirked as she did the dishes while he stood behind her, his arms around her waist and his forehead on her shoulder and he swayed gently to music only his ears could hear.

"Hmm... I did everything to come to you early," he drawled lazily, lifting his head to rest his cheek against hers. "It's Valentine's day and we... we had had a fight. Because of my ass-ness, of course. So, I figured out I needed to make the first step in patching up. You can't be the only one who always does everything to make us right again."

She turned to look at him, the irritation evident in her eyes. "Arnav, if you say something wrong about my boyfriend again, I'll squeeze all the detergent in your mouth and make sure it's properly washed! Taali ek haath se nahin bajti. Get that clear in your mind. Maybe I have a part too in whatever is happening between us these days."

He grinned at her and shook his head. "Like?"

"Maybe I tell you the wrong things at a wrong time in a wrong way?" she wondered aloud, her brow high. "I think I should work on that."

Arnav shook his head again but this time he remained silent. She wasn't going to realise soon. It would take her some time but she would finally see that he was being far too much for her. He sleepily buried his face in her hair. Better take all the advantage of her soothing presence, he mused. What would he do when she would leave?

Because he knew she would. Soon. And he would be the one to drive her away. He knew he needed to change. For her, for them. But it was not easy, it was not going to happen till she was there. Because her being there simplified everything. They said, you only realise someone's worth when the person was no longer there. She had to leave at some point. It was necessary.

But he didn't really want her to. He loved her too much. Even though it didn't seem very much like it, these days.

He understood how destructive his anger was. He knew he had not been right to shout at her. But Varsha, however she was, was his mother. Maybe an estranged mother, who had abandoned him as a child, but she was his mother... Only he knew how painful it was to walk on these sharp shards of guilt. The self-accusations sluiced through him, wrecking him. Especially when he saw his Khushi's eyes filled with tears.

Yes, he thought, tightening his arms around her, he had to enjoy her being here while she still was. Because life would freeze over when she would be gone... because he, himself would end up driving her far away...