Arnav felt a familiar voice calling out to him. It was distant and soft, but it felt familiar. His eyes fluttered open, but he covered his eyes with the back of his hand. The room seemed to be too bright for his eyes. "Sir? Arnav Sir? Wake up!" Arnav finally recognized the voice. It was Aman. "Sir, we'll miss the flight if you don't get ready in time" His head throbbed. Did he have a hangover? Was he drunk last night? He recalled the man dancing with Khushi; the way his hand slid over her waist, trying to feel her body through the gown. She was his, only his; no one else's. And yet that man had the guts to set his sight on her; on the one who belonged only to Arnav Singh Raizada. "Sir, please sit up and drink this. It'll help you with your headache" Arnav felt himself being helped to sit, and the next minute, some disgusting liquid was being shoved down his throat. All it took was five minutes for him to sober up! Some powerful concoction it was! He looked up to see Aman perspiring with worry. "Aman, I'm fine. You don't need to worry your ass off for me." Aman just smiled. The next thing Arnav noticed was the two packed suitcases that sat near the edge of the bed. Aman noticed Arnav looking at it and said, "Sir, Hari Prakash helped me to pack your clothes for the week. All you need to do is freshen up and have breakfast so that we can leave to the airport" Arnav placed his hand on his aching temple. No more drinks, he thought. "Alright. I'll get ready. And for that, you two have to get out of my room. I don't entertain being watched by men as I strip my clothes off" Aman left the room, shaking his head, while Hari Prakash ran to get his Master's breakfast ready.
Arnav closed the door and got out of his clothes of last night's party, which he had slept in. He stepped into the bathroom and stood under the shower, where warm jets of water sprayed over him. Letting the water run down his handsome face, his broad chest, his washboard abs, his muscular thighs and his mile-long legs, his thoughts wandered to the events of previous night. He remembered being drunk, and was even taken to the room by Khushi. Whatever happened after that was all blur. He sensed that he had kissed her last night, but wasn't sure enough. Surely, she wouldn't allow him to kiss her when he was drunk. Surely, he was hallucinating! Shaking those thoughts away from his head, he wondered how he would be able to stay away from her for a week. He was so used to seeing her every morning and every night; he was sure to miss her terribly. He wanted to take her along with him, but she would never agree. Moreover, he would be busy with work. Surely she would be bored to death. "Just one week! Then you can come back to see her, for as long as you want" he told himself. Turning off the shower, he came out of the bathroom. In ten minutes, he was dressed up in one of his jet black suits, and just when he buttoned up his coat, Hari prakash knocked at the door and brought breakfast. As he set the tray in front of his Master, Arnav asked, "Is Khushi awake?" "Sir, Seeta went to check on Madam a few minutes back. She is still asleep" he replied. Arnav nodded and asked him to leave so that he could have his breakfast.
Fifteen minutes later, Arnav walked to Khushi's room and knocked twice. He wasn't sure if he could go in, because there was no response from the other side. He pushed the door open, and his heart fluttered when he saw his petite wife sleeping soundly. She looked like a tiny kitten, wrapped under the fluffy quilt, surrounded by soft pillows. Careful enough not to disturb her, he tiptoed to the bed and sat next to her. Aman who was passing by in the corridor, saw Arnav seated at the edge of Khushi's bed. Smiling to himself, he slowly closed the door and walked downstairs to wait for Arnav, once he was ready to leave.
Arnav just sat there, looking at her sleeping form. Her hair was splayed across the pillow, and her lips pouted as she breathed. A sudden wave of desire washed over him as he longed to kiss those perfect, full lips. He even bent down to kiss her, but he reminded himself to behave. He was touching a person who was asleep and who wasn't even aware of his presence. The scenario sounded painfully familiar and he pulled himself back. He wasn't a lusty animal. He would not touch her without her acknowledgement. He would touch her only if she welcomed his touch. He tucked the strands of hair behind her ear and blew a kiss at her in the air. "Farewell, love. I'll miss you" His thumb ran along her pale, rosy lips and he had to remind himself to control his desires. He rose from the bed and walked to the door to go out. Before he left, he turned to look at her, hoping that she would wake up. At least he would see her looking at him leaving. And maybe, just maybe, she would come to him and hug him; wish him a wonderful journey with a kiss? He shook his head at that thought. Arnav Singh Raizada was turning into a hopeless romantic, and quite frankly, he welcomed the pleasant change in him. Smiling to himself and looking at her sleeping form, he memorized her face, such that he burned the image in his mind. Then, he closed the door and went downstairs to leave to the airport, with Aman.
Khushi stirred in her bed and stretched like a lazy cat as she heard some sounds. She opened her eyes and immediately closed them. The sunlight was too bright. She heard the sounds again, as if someone was hammering something on the door. "Khushi Madam" she heard the voice and mentally cursed Seeta. She had just gone to sleep a few hours back, and she wanted to sleep for some more time. Still trying to savor a few minutes of sleep, she rolled over and threw a pillow over her head to block Seeta's voice. That worked, because Seeta went away.
"No Saheb, Madam hasn't woken up yet" Seeta informed Arnav, who had called up his home to talk to Khushi before he boarded the flight. Arnav felt disappointed at Seeta's reply. It had been an hour since Arnav had seen her at home, and he was already missing her terribly. On the other hand, Khushi had not even woken up to wish him for a safe flight. "Let her sleep. Don't wake her" he said to her in a low voice and cut the call. Aman noticed his Master being worried. "Are you okay, Sir?" Arnav nodded. "All good, Aman. All good" he said. Aman knew that Arnav was probably missing Khushi. He was also aware of the fact that Khushi was fast asleep when Arnav left from home. From what he heard, while Arnav was over the phone, he knew Khushi was still asleep. But what he did not understand was the fact that Arnav Singh Raizada was melting for her. He had never been so sensitive earlier. But right now, he seemed so miserable because he couldn't talk to Khushi? On one hand, he was happy that Arnav had finally found someone to love. And he was sure that Khushi too would not be able to stop herself from loving him back. Arnav Singh Raizada might have been a ruthless businessman, but he was the only human, who Aman knew of, that had a heart of gold; he sympathized with others and had a lot of compassion in him. On the other hand, he feared for his Master. Khushi made him vulnerable, and it was quite evident that she was his weakness. And as far as he knew, weakness wasn't a good sign; not for a man in an important position as Arnav Singh Raizada. "Day dreaming about someone special, Aman?" Arnav said, causing him to rise from his thoughts. "No Sir." He answered. Arnav smirked, "Well, then hurry up. The announcement's been made for us to proceed." Aman nodded and rose to accompany his Master.
There was darkness everywhere. And he was running barefoot, panting for breath, scared for his life. He kept running even though his feet bled, looking back every five seconds, fearing if she would lay his hands on him. "Help me, Maa" he kept whispering in the dark, hoping for help from someone; anyone. He looked back and kept running, unaware that she was right in front, waiting for him to run into her. And when he looked ahead, it was too late. She had already caught hold of him. Her long red nails were moving down his body and he kept squirming, trying to get out of her hold. "She molested me... Ratna Raizada molested me..." were the words that came out of the dark sky as the woman gripped the boy. "Maa..." he screamed out loud.
Khushi woke up from her nightmare with a start; scared, breathless and covered in her own sweat. She wiped her forehead and leaned against the bedpost for a minute, trying to calm herself down. If this was her condition after reading the letters, she couldn't imagine through what hell Arnav must have gone through after while living those horrific incidents. Absently, she turned to her side and saw the clock. It was 11.30 AM. She got out of bed and ran straight to the bathroom. In five minutes, she pulled a t-shirt and slipped on a pair of jeans and ran downstairs.
Seeta was cleaning the cabinets in the living room. "Where's Arnav?" Khushi asked in a breathless voice. Seeta stood confused. Did Khushi Madam have a hangover too? Didn't she remember that Arnav Sir was leaving today? "Saheb already left, Madam. Two hours back" Khushi froze. "Left? Where did he go? When will he be back?" Seeta seemed to be more confused. "Madam, Saheb left to Paris for a week. Did he not tell you?" Khushi then remembered that today was Sunday. He was supposed to leave with Aman. She had heard Arnav confirming the tickets over the phone, and he had told her too. Khushi walked to the sofa nearby and plopped herself on it. "Are you okay, Madam?" "Seeta, why didn't you wake me up earlier?" Seeta looked at her, offended. "Madam, I woke you up. Thrice. But you did not move. In fact, you screamed at me, asking me to leave. Even Arnav Saheb came to the room to wake you up. But you were..." Khushi raised her hand to stop her from talking and then threw her hands over her face. A moment later, she picked the phone to call him. "Madam, Saheb is on the flight. His phone will be switched off. No use calling him." Khushi glared at Seeta, saying "Look, if I really want your advice, I will ask you for it, okay?" Seeta nodded apologetically and Khushi realized she'd been rude. "I'm sorry Seeta" she said. "It's okay Madam. I shouldn't have spoken. By the way, Arnav Saheb called before he boarded the plane. But when I said that you were still sleeping, he asked me to let you sleep." Khushi felt guilty. "I just wanted to wish him before he left" she mumbled. And tell him that I love him. Seeta looked at her, "I'm afraid you're late Madam" Khushi ran her fingers through her hair. Indeed, she was late. Late to wish him farewell; late to tell him that she loves him. And the punishment for her delay was to wait for a week until he was back. But she wanted to know at least by what time he would reach there. She checked on the internet and noted that it took five and a half hours to reach Paris. And maybe, another hour to settle into a nice hotel. She figured that she had to wait until evening so that she could talk to him. Getting up from the sofa, she dragged herself upstairs. "Madam should I bring your breakfast upstairs?" Seeta asked. "No, thank you, Seeta. I've no appetite" she replied and shut the door of her room after asking not to be disturbed.
Khushi fell back on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Her mind stopped working and she suddenly lost interest in everything. All she wanted to do was talk to him, listen to his voice. She was surprised at the change in her own behavior. Until yesterday evening, she had every intention of going away from Arnav Singh Raizada. And suddenly, after reading those letters, she realized she had fallen in love with him. Was it really love? Or was she just empathizing him? Was it possible to hate a person at one moment and then fall in love with him in the very next moment? But then, there isn't a definite moment where one could claim that they fell in love. It's love; it just happens without realization. She recalled how badly she wanted to get away from Arnav. And then, all of a sudden, last night, she hated the distance between them. Initially, she cringed when he came close to her. But now, she wanted him close. Was it love? Or was it lust? Khushi was too naive to understand. She wanted to clear her thoughts and be able to think straight. But she felt as if it was getting too loud inside her head. Whom could she talk to? She couldn't probably talk to her parents about it. It was embarrassing for her to discuss such topics with them. Talking to Gauri? Nah! She would probably convince her to divorce Arnav, and then get married to him herself. She wondered whom she could share her thoughts with. Heaving a sigh, she realized that she had no one to talk to. She decided to give herself some time and space. If it was lust, it would fade away. But if it was love, it would increase with time. At least that was what she inferred from all the romantic novels that she read during her college hours. After a few moments, she felt her stomach growl. She had skipped breakfast and it was almost noon. Her mind told her that she wasn't hungry but the body required food. Do people in love feel such hunger? Bollywood songs denied the theory. Lazily, she got up and went downstairs to unwillingly eat two slices of bread and some cheese.
Once she was done eating and was coming back to her room, she passed by Arnav's bedroom and stopped in her tracks. Pushing the door open, she went inside the room and locked it. She looked at the bed which was neatly arranged. Hari prakash must've arranged it after Arnav had gotten out of bed. She remembered watching Arnav sleeping in it last night. Just the thought that he was in the same bed a few hours ago made her feel conscious; as if his presence was still in the room. She sat on the bed and took his pillow in her hands. Hugging it, she inhaled his masculine scent of his body that was still trapped in it. She fell back on his bed. His bed! Where he slept in! She held the pillow close to her chest, feeling the warmth of it. It was as if she was trying to get his scent over her own body. She probably would have laughed at herself for doing such a cheesy thing if it was any other time. But now, she was missing him and the hunger of missing him increased with every passing minute. He had managed to invoke such strong desires in her with a mere kiss. She felt greedy. She wanted more. Getting up from bed, she placed the pillow back and walked to the bathroom. It smelled so clean and spicy, just like him. She entered bathroom. He was in here too, a few hours ago. The wet floor was evidence to it. A thrill shot through her as she imagined her man, stark naked, having a shower. Although initially embarrassed at her sinful thoughts, she then convinced herself that there was nothing wrong. She had all the right to lust over her husband. She felt his presence there too. Walking under the shower tap, she took off her clothes and turned the shower on. Her mind soon began to fantasize things. She wished that he would walk in on her right now, and get turned on as he watched her have a shower in his bathroom. And then they could shower together, as they made love. She wished he could touch every inch of her, and mark her as his own. She sighed when she realized that her thoughts were causing her body to ache in places where she had never been touched. She had to get out of the bathroom before she caused a drought in the city. After she turned off the shower tap, she saw his wet towel, that he had carelessly thrown on the rack. She wrapped it round her body and walked out to his wardrobe. She felt as if his body enveloped hers. Another cheesy thought. Dropping the towel to her feet, she took one of his shirts from the hanger and slipped it over her. Arnav's perfume was still lingering on it, and she felt electricity shoot through her as his shirt came in contact with her skin. She hugged herself and looked at her reflection in the mirror. The shirt covered her up till her knees and it hug on her as if she was a hanger. He was huge, she knew. Probably huge everywhere, she concluded. She blushed at that thought and fell into bed. Love or lust? The mind whispered to her again. But now, she did not want to over-think and stress herself if it was lust or love or pity or something else. All she knew was that she wanted her husband to love her, and to love him back. And for that, she had to wait for a week! Sheer torture, she thought and rolled to hug his pillow.
Five and a half hours had passed. The first thing Arnav did after they exited the airport was check his phone. There were no missed calls alerts or messages. And he was more disappointed. The least that Khushi could have done was to send him a text message. "Sir?" Aman distracted him, "Shall we move?" he asked pointing towards the cab, and Arnav nodded as he slipped the phone into his pocket. He glanced heavenward, as if in silent prayer, hoping that his wish would come true. All he wanted was to hear her voice at least once.
Khushi was seated by the window of his bedroom which faced the green lawns of the garden. At 6 PM, the alarm on her phone beeped and she turned it off. She dialed Arnav's number and called him up, anxiously waiting to hear his voice. "Hello" came a male voice from the other side, but Khushi was disappointed because it wasn't Arnav. It was Aman. "Why is Arnav's phone with you, Aman?" she asked politely, but with irritation. "Khushi Ma'am, Arnav Sir is having lunch with the delegates. So..." "Lunch at this time? It's coffee time and he's having lunch? Did he even eat anything since noon?" she almost yelled at Aman, who only smiled at her concern for his Master. "Ma'am, it is noon over here. And it's lunch time. You are four and a half hours ahead of us" he said with a smile in his voice. "Oh" she said, feeling stupid. And quickly recovering from his embarrassment, she said, "Ask him to talk to me after he finishes his lunch or whatsoever" Aman smiled and Khushi was about to cut the call when she heard a feminine laughter. The possessive bitch within her woke up. "Who exactly is Arnav having lunch with?" Khushi enquired and Aman could clearly indicate jealousy in her voice. Aman smirked and said, "Oh, Sir's having lunch with delegates. I told you..." "I asked who exactly is he having lunch with, Aman" Khushi said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice and miserably failing. Aman said with a smile, "Alaine Dubois. She is one of France's best entrepreneurs in the industry of fashion." Khushi raised her brow and pursed her lips. "Who else is with them?" Aman smiled slyly. He was not going to tell her that Alaine's husband, Elliot Dubois was with them too. After all, a little jealousy would do no harm! "No one else, Ma'am. Just the two of them." Khushi felt her ire rise as she imagined Arnav having a cozy lunch with some other woman. Arnav must have said something funny; well, he did have a charm about whatever he spoke. He could talk crap and could still look adorably smart. And that woman would have cackled and placed her hand on his thigh at the joke he just cracked. "They are having lunch, and what are you doing?" Khushi yelled into the phone, "Go, and join them" "Okay Ma'am" Aman said with a mischievous smile. "And ask your Arnav Sir to call me once he is done spending quality time with Miss. Alaine Dubois" "Surely, I will" he said and cut the call with a smile. At least her jealousy was an indicator that she too felt something for Arnav. Love was not one-sided, after all!
Khushi was fuming once she cut the call. "He is so busy that he cannot even excuse himself from that stupid lunch and talk to me." She sat on his bed and banged the phone on the mattress. "He just keeps claiming that he loves me. And what does he do the moment I am away? He goes for lunch with other women. Let him call me. I will not talk to him. In fact, I shall switch off my phone" she muttered angrily and switched her phone off. It took only five minutes for her to switch it on again. What if he called, and couldn't talk to her because her phone was switched off? The fact was that she was too desperate to talk to him. She fell back on the bed and waited for her phone to ring. "Please call me, Arnav" she said holding her phone close to her chest.
After lunch with Alaine and Elliot, Arnav rose up and thanked them for lunch. They invited him to stay at their home, but he refused politely. He was the last person on Earth, to mix work with friendship. They knew it well too, and did not force him too. After the French couple left, Aman and Arnav took a cab to their hotel. After Arnav was about to enter his room, Aman handed him his phone. "Oh yes, I completely forgot about my phone!" Arnav said, tired from the jet lag. He hated travelling, but unfortunately, his work demanded it. "Khushi Ma'am had called" Aman said as Arnav was checking mails on his phone. "She did?" he asked him, with his face lighting up a hundred volts. "Yes Sir. And she asked you to call her back as soon as you had finished your lunch" Arnav expression changed to a distasteful one as he said, "Next time Khushi calls, no matter how busy I am, you give the phone to me. Don't keep her waiting. Doesn't matter even if I am talking to the Pope. Get it?" Aman nodded, and with that, both of them retired to their room, agreeing to meet at dinner time.
An hour and a half passed, but there was no call from Arnav, yet. Khushi's heart began to sink. She lost hope that he would call. What if Alaine was still with him? Did he forget about her when he was with another woman? And if he was having lunch with her two hours back, what was she still doing with him, keeping him so busy that he couldn't even call her back? Unnecessary and unpleasant scenarios began to play in her head, and with each second, she felt more vulnerable and angry. The poison within her began to curdle her blood. Just then, her phone rang and she saw Arnav's name flashing on it. "Hello Khushi." He said in his deep voice, and for a minute, she forgot everything else. Then, the very next second, Alaine's laughter rang in her head. "Oh, so Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada finally found time to call me up? Tell me, how was your date with Miss Alaine Dubois?" Arnav knew that she must have found out from Aman and decided to tease her a bit. "Oh Miss Dubois is wonderful and relaxed and charming. And she makes me laugh so much. It was a wonderful date, Khushi" Khushi grit her teeth as she heard him sound so cheerful. "Really? Then what did you do after lunch? Take her to the Eiffel Tower and kiss her in front of it? Or did you take her to your bed and show her how a wonderful date ends? I bet that was what you were doing. No wonder you asked Aman to hold your phone while you were screwing her" Arnav winced at her harsh words, but he wasn't going to let her know that it hurt him. If it was otherwise, he would have maintained silence on his side and swallowed her awful words. But he had quite many reasons not to. Firstly, he was subconsciously angry with the fact that she did not see him off, or wish him before he left. Childish! But still, he wanted a wish from her. How difficult was it to put a message to him, if she did not want to talk over the phone? Secondly, he was tired. He wanted some sleep after the travel. Instead here he was, listening to her baseless accusations. And so, he decided to give her a taste of her own medicine, or rather, poison. "Eiffel Tower? Too cheesy! That was something I would do with an inexperienced girl like you. But Alaine! Damn! That is the kind of woman you take back to your bed and screw her like there's no tomorrow. And that is exactly why it took me two hours to call you back." He smirked without being amused as he heard her huff over the phone. "Oh so she was THAT good, eh? Or did it take you so long because your one-eyed weasel refused to stand up" "Oh Khushi dear, my weasel is perfectly fine- strong and quite big as well. And it does have class. No wonder, it refused to stop standing up in spite of Alaine being worn out. Alaine is like... wow! You have no clue and I have no words to explain." Khushi felt her ears turn hot in anger. And if it was possible, she would be breathing fire right now. "Enlighten me then, Arnav, and tell me how good she was?" "You won't understand even if I tried to explain to you. She had experience, you see. Alaine knew what to do and how to do stuff. Gosh, even her name gets my tallywhacker up! You see, after all, she was not a virgin!" Khushi closed her eyes at that statement of his, as tears welled up in her eyes. She knew he was serving her with the same bitter words that she was feeding him. But the vindictive nature in her did not stop her from continuing. "Shut the f**k up, Arnav! Just stop it!" "I wasn't the one who started it Khushi!" Tears began to drip down her cheek, while he felt his blood boil at her words. "You know what, Arnav? I don't care! Go find yourself one, or even a hundred wh**es to shag. I don't give a damn. I wasn't the one who was dying to marry you. You married me, that too by force. So you can go to hell for all I care, Raizada." Khushi bit her tongue as the venom in her words began to thicken up. Her mouth had spoken words even before she could stop it. She knew she loved him, and that was why his words hurt him. But it was in her blood and her nature; eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth. Silence was never an option. "You're right. I forced you into it" he said, trembling with hurt. She was right. He did force her into this marriage; a marriage that she was suffocating in with regret. "And it is fine by me, Khushi" he said, "I will continue my sexcapades here, screwing wh**es. You can grow old, alone, and live in a house with a cat." A simple teasing had now turned into an ugly exchange of abuses and insults. Khushi did not back down; she couldn't. The poison in her just kept fuelling her anger, and she spat out words. "Why should I grow old alone? Don't you worry about me, Raizada. I can find a real man, who has the balls to ask me what I wish, instead of forcing me into a fake marriage and then keeping me as a captive in his house. I will surely find such a man and live happily with him; even have babies with him. Also, I don't like cats. They cannot be trusted. I like dogs; they are more loyal and faithful." Arnav felt a sharp pain in his chest when she said that she would leave him. He wanted to pick that knife on the table in his hotel room and just stab himself to get rid of that stinging pain within him. "Alright then, Khushi. I will set you free from this forced, fake marriage. You can then go in search of your real man, while I chase skirts of wh**es here. I will not come back. You will never see me again and we'll never cross paths again."
The thought of him not coming back shattered her heart to million bits. She knew he was deliberately hurting her for deliberately hurting him. Both of them were stabbing each other so ruthlessly, blind to the fact that they both were bleeding from the cuts on their heart and soul. Both could see each other bleeding with wounds, but still they kept stabbing each other.
Both of them were still on the phone. She could hear his breathing and could tell that he was hurt and angry. He had always tried to tell her in his own ways that he loved her. She had read those letters and felt his pain too. Why was it so difficult to keep her mouth shut? Why did she have to start being such a vindictive bitch? She realized that she was angry because she was jealous. And she was jealous because she loved him. All her confusions cleared up. She wasn't just infatuated with him. Infatuation is when you find someone who is absolutely perfect. But love is when you know that they are not perfect and it doesn't matter; you still love that person. Arnav was not perfect. He was flawed with his past. She wasn't perfect and was flawed too. Yet he loved her. And so did she love him. And that was what made them mad at each other. After all, we only fight with someone whom we love. We fight, because we do not want to give up on them; because we know that they are worth fighting for. Chaos would begin if we stopped fighting and gave up on the one we love, because that would mean we stopped caring. If we didn't care, would we waste our time expending the energy it takes to get mad and fight? The same was happening to them. They were fighting because they cared about each other. The only sad part was that they were not fighting for each other; they were fighting against each other.
Arnav was breathing rapidly. He had expected her to call him up and say something nice to him, and here she was throwing knives at him. And the worst part was that she did not miss any of it. Each knife fell right at his heart, deepening the wounds. What else had he expected? That she would call him up to speak sweet nothings? She did not love him. He realized it. She was forced into this marriage. But did she really mean it when she said that she would find another man and live with him; make babies with him? He hadn't considered that she may have some other man in her mind, when he married her. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists in annoyance. However, he couldn't let her know of it; he couldn't let her know that she affected him; that she was his weakness.
Both said nothing. Both of them were frustrated with each other and it was too late to take back the words they said. Arnav knew it was better to keep silence now. Not because it would make things better. No, nothing could undo the damage that had been done. But it would prevent things from being worse. Silence prevailed and stretched endlessly. Khushi began to fear now. He stopped speaking, and his silence was killing her. What if he meant that he wouldn't come back? What was this love turning into? That when she opened her arms and fell in love with him, he was walking away from her. She was falling and he wasn't even there to hold her? "Arnav..." she said and immediately heard the call disconnect. He had nothing more to say, and did not want her to say anything too. They would regret more. They were both human and they deserved some kindness. Being rude to each other would only cause immense pain to both of them. He knew how pain felt. It had been a part of his entire life. He hung up, not wanting to utter, nor hear, another word. He was exhausted for now, emotionally. Wounds were left open, in hopes of being healed all by itself.
Khushi held the phone close to her chest and cried. Why did she have to be so rude? She was waiting to confess her feelings to him. And this is what she did! "I miss you Arnav... I love you" she sobbed. She knew she loved him so much that it hurt. And she knew she had hurt him too. She could feel his pain. Yet she was unable to say the words that he wanted to hear. She was unable to put a bandage to their open wounds. If anything, she scraped his wounds, over and over again. Seeta knocked on the door, asking her to come for dinner. "I have no appetite. Keep the food in the fridge. I'll warm it up later" she said in a muffled tone, trying to hold her tears back. After Seeta went away, she sobbed bitterly, again. There was too much of love; so much, that it simply hurt.
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