Arhi SS: A Friend in Need (M)~COMPLETE!~ Check page 73 (25/6/16) - Page 29

You are an awesome writer..

just read the last two parts now..
both were amazing & with that we came into the present..
so my thought about Aman was right that he's gay..
but i dont like Khushi's decision, being a best friend & support him is other thing & to sacrafice your happiness for is other& for that she leaves her love..
like Arnav mention that best friend get everything, at that point i really feel bad for him..

waiting for nxt..

Just came across this ff n since then have been hooked n attracted to it crazily...The brilliant emotions you have shown in pleasure as well as in pain have rendered me speechless !!

poor aman,poor khushi and poor arnav😭

Love the story. Had kind of guessed that aman was gay... but have major concern regarding his frndship with khushi, can't he see the misery of khushi.. cant he see that khushi is arnav's. As a frnd he should give some space to khushi. I wish in chptrs to come, he comes out clean that he is gay n stop using khushi. Coz friendship is a two way deal.

Dear godd..can i just hit evryone..why are they literally playing ariund with Khushis life..-,-

great work .

A/N: Hi guys.

Part 14




Khushi has her fingers interlinked on her lap as she continues to send silent prayers. Her eyes are closed, and back uncomfortably stiff when she feels the car stop again.

"We've reached," she hears Arnav's distant voice. "This is the place, right?"

"Should be," she says as she hurries out of the door with Arnav following her. They get stopped about three times by security and the doormen but are soon allowed in after a phone call to Mr. Bedi.

They're about to take the elevator when her phone rings.

"It's - it's Am - Aman ," she stammers as she turns to Arnav. Her hands are shivering she realises when Arnav takes hold of it and gently presses for reassurance.

"Answer it," he says and she nods in reply with her eyes on him and her hand still in his grip.

Aman doesn't speak anything on answering, there's only the sound of honks and cars.

"Aman? Aman, where are you?"

More sounds of honks and cars. She heart starts to thud even louder.

"Aman...please tell me you're alright, Aman. Don't do anything stupid.."

"I'm...I'm, Khushi I'm so sorry I..."

"Aman! Aman, please talk to me!

"I'm... "

"Please say some something..."

At this point Arnav snatches the phone from her hand,

"Where are you?" He speaks, his voice clear and to-the-point, demanding an answer.

He disconnects the phone before she can take it back. He's got Aman to answer.

"He's alright. Let's go."

"But where is he?" He asks frantically.

"Parked at a highway."

She follows him back to the car feeling relieved hearing Aman's voice. But she still prays, her hands branching her sari in fists and eyes closing.

They reach the highway in fifteen minutes and see his car parked under a tree with two police vans flanking it.

"Oh god, Arnav, is he in trouble?" She says as he brings the car to a halt.

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised. He sounded pretty wasted."

Closing her eyes to calm her nerves she's quick to get out of the car and run to his. She sees him seated on concrete with his back against his front wheel. His head is thrown back and eyes red. He's crying.

"Aman!"

A policeman steps in front of her before she reaches him. "Madam, he's going to be arrested. He's doing drugs on the highway! Just ask him what he was trying to do, getting himself killed? There are dangerous men here, madam!"

She looks over at Aman trying to stand, his movements slow, unsteady.

"Sir, first let me just - "

She gets pulled by her arm as Arnav comes to stand between her and the policeman. "Let her talk to him. You talk to me."

The cop looks curious but doesn't say anything. She looks up at Arnav to thank him. He averts his gaze. Sighing she reaches Aman.

"Aman, what have you done to yourself? I thought you said you were not going to take them again." She says as tears rolls down her cheeks as she looks at his condition, relieved that he hadn't got into any accident. But to see a tall, broad man not being able to stand on his own disturbs her. It isn't the first she's seeing him thus.

"Khushi, I'm..."

"Aman, let's go home," she says as he starts to pull him by the arm but she gets pulled into a hug instead.

"I'm sorry, Khushi, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry." He says against her shoulder, his tears dampening her the fabric of her blouse.

"Aman - "

"I can't - I can't do this to you anymore."

"What are you - "

"I can't let you be dragged into my messed up shitt..."

"Aman, don't say that. You know I do not mind - "

"Please, Khushi. Don't say you don't mind it. I'm the last person you should be with and you know it. I'll destroy what's left of you, I won't be able to give you anything." He says as she hears the police jeeps leave.

Her body shakes with tears as she feels Aman's forehead dig into her shoulder at the same time her back stiffens and heats up feeling Arnav's gaze on it. She knows he's standing behind her, watching them.

"We'll talk about it later, okay?" She tells Aman patting on his back as she pulls back from the hug. "You need to get home now, mom is worried."

They walk back to the car in silence and the silence continues for the next half and hour. The only sounds that comes are of Aman's cries as the two others in the front seats sit helpless and horrified seeing him thus.

Aman's mother is standing by the gate when they reach.

"Oh thank god, you found him!" She says as they are heading inside. Aman is supported by Arnav on one side and Khushi on the other. A few servants come running and take him from them.

"Khushi, you should be with him when he needs you beta. A wife must do that, at the least."

"I'm sorry," Khushi replies in a small voice.

"Aunty, I'm sorry to say this but Aman needs help." Arnav says as he comes to stand beside her.

"Help?" His mother looks up, "all he needs is a little love and..."

"Support is what he needs. Lord knows how much love he is getting." He says his gaze shifting towards Khushi for a moment before shifting back to Aman's mother.

"Do you think I do not support my son?

Arnav doesn't reply.

"Look, Arnav, just because you couldn't be a friend and support Aman doesn't mean I can't either. I'm his mother. Don't teach me what to do.."

"Perhaps, if you hadn't f**ked my dad, Aman and I would have been friends."

"Arnav!" She says, her voice shocked, pitch loud as she turns to Khushi, "I don't know why you need to work for these people. They haven't even taught their kids how to speak with..."

"I remember when Aman used to come to my house, Aunty. He used to be there till ten in the night. Sometimes my mom would sing lullabies and put him to sleep next to me while you were out there, probably cheating on your husband. So let's not forget that before talking about teachings and manners."

"Arnav," Khushi pleads for him keep shut, "please..."

He turns towards her. His eyes are mad, angry. "Someone has to say. But I'll still apologise to your future 'mom', if she's still going to be, that is."

"Arnav, please - not right now." She whispers. He's about to add more when her hand grips his, the pallav of her sari concealing the view. He stiffens. But it works, he doesn't speak more.

"What is he talking about?"

"Leave it, mom, it's really late at night. We should talk about it tomorrow."

"What do you mean, it's late at night. Aren't you going to spend the night here?" She replies, "Aman needs you right now."

"Mom, I - "

"She's not his - " Arnav's starts to say when she squeezes his hand to stop him. He promptly stops. She sighs in relief.

"I remembered some documents dadi had asked me to check. It's - it's needed tomorrow. I wish I could stay but - "

"Dadi, dadi, dadi - is Aman anything to you?"

Khushi's about to argue when Aman's mother turns around and walks away leaving her and Arnav standing at the gate, holding hands.

She wants to let go, she knows she should but her heart stops her.

"Why didn't you stay?" He whispers.

"I - I couldn't. Not tonight. Any other day I would but...I'm tired, Arnav."

He doesn't reply as he pulls her by their enclasped hands to his car.

"Arnav - "

"Get in. Don't ask me go back. The party is long over."

Having lost all energy to argue, she gets in. The drive is spent in absolute silence.

She looks out of the window and thinks about all that has happened in her life in the last few years.

She had moved out of the Raizada outhouse and into a paying guest accommodation right after she'd graduated. She'd rejected dadi's offer for a scholarship with a determination she never quite developed again, even if it meant joining a small BPO. She was young, heart-broken and angry with people she'd come to love and respect. And all she wanted to do was earn her own bread.

The job didn't pay well but she got by for a couple of years, even helped out her parents a bit. But when had things remained normal in Khushi's life?

Payal soon had a fall out with Mr. Raizada when she got a whiff of a new woman entering his life. Being a mistress to another woman's man was okay, but another mistress was certainly not. Quite used to being the queen, it was too much for Payal to take when the gifts and favours stopped.

Payal falling out with Mr. Raizada also meant that all the responsibility now fell on Khushi. When the favours stopped, Khushi feared that it would be Piyush who would suffer. And that it exactly what happened.

Payal, adamant that Piyush go to an expensive school, one her mother couldn't herself afford to go to, had admitted him into one. But Payal worked for Mr. Raizada then. After things went soar, she was left quite handicapped to pay for the life that she'd started living. Khushi took the responsibility of Piyush, yet again rejecting dadi's offer to pay for Piyush's school. She couldn't take anymore favours.

However, things turned for worse when her father had his first heart attack. The medical bills were too much. Piyush's school demanded too much money. And Khushi couldn't handle everything with her BPO salary, even with Payal starting to work again. She had plans, Khushi wanted to study further, she wanted to get into a business school, she wanted to get rich. This was not what she'd imagined her life to be like at twenty four.

That is when dadi had come walking to her like a godmother she'd always needed, and never saw one in her. Khushi always considered dadi as the villain of her, she detested her. She never wanted to take anything from her. And this took some time changing.

"Khushi, I'm here to talk to you about something."

Khushi had been startled. She'd been in her PG, trying to fill out some applications when dadi had entered her room which she shared with two other girls.

With pearls and expensive, fine georgette draped around her, she looked out of place to be even standing there.

"Sorry I had to come in like this but I need to talk to you. Come with me."

Khushi had nodded as she'd quickly taken a scarf to put around her neck and followed dadi out to her car.

"Look child, I've always liked you." Dadi had said when they were seated in the confines of the car.

She'd looked up at that. That was news, for if she liked Khushi, she'd certainly not shown it.

"I want to help you out. I can see that you're struggling and I know you will never ask money from me and neither will you let anyone else do it. Your father is suffering, dear. And I know how badly you want to do you MBA."

"Dadi, I can't accept any..."

"I'm not offering you money, I'm offering you a job."

"What?"

"My grandson is not coming back anytime soon even after me convincing him to do so. I suppose he's still angry with me for..." She lets that be complete as she continues, "anyway, I'm growing old and the work is getting too much for me. I need someone who tells me what to do, takes care of things and reminds me all the important work, like a personal assistant. Now, I do have a have few fine men doing just that, but I need someone who I can take can trust with everything, someone close. And that is why, I come to you with this offer."

Khushi would have laughed if she hadn't been so shocked. Someone close? Someone dadi could trust? Khushi used to steal from her very house when she was young for heaven's sake!

"I'll pay you well and after an year, according to company policies, we can even fund your MBA. It'll benefit the company too, not just you."

"Dadi, I - "

"Look Khushi, I need someone I can trust. Your family has been with us for a long time and I do trust you, if not your sister. You kept your word, you moved out. You broke whatever you had with my grandson. What you are doing is hard. You're so young and yet you help out your family. And now I want you to take up this job, you're perfect for it. I know it will help your family."
"There's no hurry. You think about it and if you agree, drop by my office and we can discuss further."

Khushi had nodded, thanked dadi for the offer and stepped back into her room as if in a trans.

Then next day she'd swallowed her pride and walked into dadi's office.




Dadi wasn't a bad woman, she'd realised. She'd wasted too many years in hating her. Dadi was stern, yes, but at that position, one had to be. She was class conscious, yes, but she had the right to be.
But besides these, she was also even tempered, soft and nice to everybody. "Call me dadi, everyone calls me dadi," she would say each time someone would try to refer to her as Mrs. Raizada, ma'am or well, as dadiji. She wore pearls and diamonds and exquisite saris everyday. She chose to travel in a vintage car which was so well kept that it looked brand new. And she remembered everybody's birthdays.

A year of working with her and Khushi had even forgotten just why she'd initially disliked dadi so much. Dadi taught her the work, she taught her how to hold herself together when things weren't quite right and even taught her to smile and go through the day when not all was good. And when Khushi's father passed away, quite by surprise, it was dadi who'd helped her cope.

But life didn't remain same after that. "I'm afraid I'm growing too old and can't handle all this anymore. I've convinced my grandson to return back home, he'll be there in a week." She had announced one day.

As Khushi remained quiet, dadi had continued, "I know what you must be thinking. But I do believe that both of you are over the childhood infatuation you had for each other. You're both grown up, and I trust you, Khushi. You know you shouldn't cross the line and you wouldn't. I've trained you well."

Was it this easy to train someone not to love?, Khushi had thought.

"And I do believe my grandson has changed after all these years..."

She'd nodded in understanding and had gone back to her work.


Turned out, she hadn't been trained well.

For quite a while dadi was able to make sure that her grandson and Khushi don't cross each other's path. Khushi along with her mother, Payal and Piyush had moved to a small apartment which Aman had helped her find a couple of years ago, which meant she didn't have to be afraid of running into Arnav. And dadi made sure that Arnav sat in the other office, where she and Khushi would hardly frequent to.

But the times they indeed stepped into the other office, were times Khushi had wished they hadn't. It would not only bring all the memories back to her, the happy ones and the sad ones, but also remind that after that night where he'd asked her to get back with him one last time, he hadn't tried calling her even once. They lay in each other's Facebook friend lists and phone books like they were some acquaintances, acquaintances who didn't care about each other, who didn't love each other.

She'd expected him to ignore her, not speak with her when they would eventually come face to face, but she was greeted with hate, harsh words and sometimes, even accusations. But his eyes always showed something else. Love. Longing. Lust.

It wasn't long before Khushi, not being stand ground as per dadi's instructions had spoken back and raised her voice leading to a heated fight. They'd ended up against a wall in Arnav's cabin, kissing and trying to feel each other up after years of separation. The first time she'd pushed him away, but the second time she hadn't been able to.

It certainly wasn't long before they'd ended in bed and then against the poolside wall the rare times she had to visit Shantivan.

Before she knew she was addicted to Arnav again, and he to her, like they'd been before.

Word of Aman's suicide out in the open by then and even the reason, Arnav no longer believed she dated him. But the harsh words continued. Aman though, continued to be her best friend, and she his support.

Things took a bad turn when dadi decided to get Arnav married. Khushi knew she had to step back then and she did. After all, she still felt like the cook's daughter and a cook's daughter could never harbour dreams of marrying of the heir.

Shattered and heartbroken once again her life was faced with a new challenge and decision when Aman's mother had asked her to marry Aman, for she believed it was only Khushi who could keep Aman happy and keep him from the path he was slowly getting sucked into, of drugs and uselessness. Aman needed her and that he would always keep her happy, fulfil all her needs.

Shocked, she'd looked at Aman for help, but he hadn't met her eyes even once during the conversation. It was as if he'd wanted it, he'd wanted to get married to her! For what, society? Did he care about society so much that he could forego their friendship and push it into nothingness?

"What about the guy you'd started liking? What about the future, Aman? What about our friendship? Do you only want to marry me because you need me? What about my needs, Aman?" She'd wanted to shout. Scream. But in the end she'd just remained quiet.

The next hour had her mother and sister convincing her to get married to Aman. Nothing else mattered. He was rich. He would give them a good life. Where else would they find her a man who would be so rich and would still want to marry her?

For the first time then she'd felt jealous of Payal and angry at her for saying all that. A year after they'd moved out, she had found a guy yet again. Everyone thought it was yet another boyfriend but she'd ended up marrying him. For love. He was simple guy but he had big heart. He wasn't rich too, so it was surprise that Payal had even started dating him, but it was true what they say, love does make you a better person. And in Payal's case it happened just that. Her husband not only accepted her with open arms after all her history but also treated Piyush like he was his own. Khushi was truly happy for Payal.

And heartbroken for herself. Why couldn't she marry for love?

She took a day to think. She thought of her family's wishes and she thought about what Aman might do if she rejects him. She thought Arnav. She and cried for him the most. Aman and she talked for a few hours that evening. He apologised and said that the ball was in her court, that he wouldn't except her to say yes so easily and would always respect her decision. They cried together and even laughed thinking about the promise they'd made long back of marrying each other if they found no one else. And the next day, she was ready with her decision. She was marrying Aman.



------

Part 15




He stops the car in front of her apartment and her stomach clenches uncomfortably. She's not ready to say goodbye. She's not ready to be alone.

The thought of being alone tonight makes her feel sick. She misses her mother, who had decided to go back to their village in the mountains a while after her father's death. "That is where I belong, I would like to go back to our little house for some time," she had said and then never returned. Khushi longed to join her there one day. The short trips she'd been on in the last few years didn't do it anymore.

Her heart pains thinking about the stupid little dream she and Arnav had dreamt of, of having a house there after they get married. "Our summer house," he'd said.

She turns to him. She wants to talk. she wants to take him upstairs and sleep on his chest. She wants to smell him.

"Good night," he says, "take care."

She nods and wish him the same as she leaves almost wishing he'd stop her, almost wishing he'd park the car and follow her inside like he'd done a few times before.

"It's probably for the better," she tells herself as she reaches her door.

It's only been five minutes when she hears footsteps by the door. She waits for the bell to ring.

He's standing there with his blazer tucked in his elbow when she answers the door. For a few seconds they just stand and stare. When the spell breaks, without speaking a word he makes his way inside and lowers himself on the couch.

"Coffee?" She asks as she bolts the door.

He nods.

She has tears in her eyes as she reaches the kitchen. It feels so right, like home.

She makes the coffee and heats some leftover food, daal chawal, oddly a favourite of Arnav. It's not much but enough for the two, at this time of the night. She knows he hasn't eaten. She hasn't either.

He accepts the food and they eat in silence. There's tension in the room. They know they need to talk but none of them speak a word.

When he's done he steps out to the balcony for a smoke. There's no reason left for her to not follow him.

"What a long evening, huh?" He finally says breaking the silence between them as she stands beside him leaning against the railing.

She nods in reply and her breathing quickens when she feels him shifting closer. He takes her hand in his and immediately starts warming it with gentle rubs. Her eyes shuts close as she allows her head to fall on his shoulder.

"I didn't want to be alone tonight," she confesses.

"I know," he whispers against her forehead. The cigarette drops from between his fingers when her lips touch his neck. She knows she shouldn't, but it feels so right, to be there, to sniff and caress the smooth column of his neck with her nose and lips.

"Khushi - " he moans her name just as her lips suck at the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she says again his neck, "I'm sorry for what I've done to you...to us..." She attacks his neck again, this time her tongue running over his throat, lips dropping kisses on and around his Adam's apple.

"But I want you to know that...I didn't have any choice, Arnav. No one...not even your mother wanted us together. And she, your mother... has done so much for me. Even dadi...helping me and my family when we had nothing...how...how could I have not given them back the only they'd asked from me...you."

His hand comes up to cup her face as he pushes her body against the railing with the help of his. His need for her is evident in the way the hardness between his legs pokes at her stomach. She gasps when he presses himself against her a little more.

"But you can't, baby, you can't give back what it truly yours..." He says against her lips.

Only a moan escapes her lips in reply.

"I love you, Khushi..."

"Arnav..." Her lips part to say further but nothing comes out. She feels wetness roll down her cheeks.

"I can't...I can't marry her." He says just as he captures her lips in his and she lets herself float with it. His lips clashes with and sucks hers, and his tongue pushes against her teeth. She easily gives him permission to enter. As their tongues dance slowly, slipping and tasting, his hands starts to wander on her body, pushing and pulling her body until the railing digs into her back and his front is plastered against hers. She doesn't mind.

Soon his lips leave hers and capture her ear as she squirms and moans, her hand slipping side his shirt to feel his smooth back.

His head dips as he caresses and soothes the hickey he'd given earlier, the root of all the problems and instead of stopping him, she moans louder, pulling on to his hair hair lightly, encouraging him.

She should stop him, he knows he should stop too. They need to talk more. But she knows it'll be useless, for this is how they spoke. This is how they expressed happiness, sorrow and even anger. This is how they express love which otherwise goes unsaid.

And therefore she silently follows him as he takes her by the arm inside her room, makes her sit at the edge of the bed and starts kissing her neck, his hands starting to disrobe her for the second time this evening. And she lets him.

She sits in her underskirt and blouse before him as she helps him undress too. Somewhere in the process, the electricity goes off. They don't mind it.

He gets on his knees and helps her remove her cheap, painful stilettos. He knows how much they pain her. His touch on her feet is as soothing as it is arousing, she thinks as she feels wetness pool at her core.

Before she can comprehend more, his hand is undoing the ties of her underskirt, pulling them down to reveal a bare lower half. She couldn't possibly wear the torn, ruined underwear from before.

She gasps he parts her thighs apart and he kisses her there a few times before making his way above to undo her blouse.

She waits for him naked on the bed as her removes his remaining clothes and joins her.

As he slowly crawls over her she feels nervous as if it's her first time. Her stomach tingles out of anticipation. He settles between her legs and hovers over her before he takes to play with one of her breasts as licks, sucks and bite a breast, his other hand roughly massaging the other.

She moans rather loudly under him. They are always quick while making love, but this...this is slow torture that she can hardly take. She tries to pull him away by his hair but at the same time arches her back to give him more access. His lips turn more persistent.

Eventually as his mouth shifts to the other breast, his weight unknowingly settles on her and as if their bodies can't help, they start moving against each other, their most intimate parts rubbing and stroking the fire within.

"God, Arnav...please..."

She doesn't know what she's asking for but he replies by taking his hand to her womanhood, his fingers probing her folds open and stroking what lay inside. She breathes is short gasps but doesn't protest, throwing her head back and arching her chest forward when a finger and then two easily enters her dripping core, his thumb still playing with her nub as his mouth continues to devour her breast.

It is when her legs begin to quiver because of the sweet torture that she can't take it anyone and she flips him over. His fingers slip out in the process. He looks disappointed but soon recovers when she settles on top of him, her thighs straddling his legs. Her eyes never leaving hers, she guides his shaft inside her. They both groan, for he reaches so deep within her. She's overwhelmed with the fulfilling sensation. It doesn't take long before his large hands grip her hips and behind and they start moving in their own rhythm.

Their bodies are slick with sweat and her long hair sticks to her body and tickles his chest each time she bends for support. They hardly bother with going slow as she rides him with wild abandon and he helps by meeting each of her thrusts.

His hands stay gripping her bottom and leaving marks there but sometimes wanders to her bouncing breasts, to weigh them, massage them, which they so need.

Her eyes never leave his. It's overwhelming, the way he looks at her while she rides him like a woman possessed. It's like she's the most beautiful woman in the world, like he can't ever get enough of her body, like he loves her. She moans as the the thought makes her go even fast, deeper with every thrust.

She knows he's going to come soon so she continues the rhythm. Soon he stills and gives out a loud groan as he spills insides her as she bends down to kiss him and resume her thrusts. Short gasps and moans escape her mouth as she feels his juices drip out of her core and when his hands reaches her sensitive breasts again to stroke her engorged peaks, she finds her release too. Moaning she falls over him feeling his body shake and spill a little into her again.

"I'm going to take you away and marry you. I don't give a flying f**k about anything else." She hears him say when she moves to her side and into his arms.

She doesn't reply as her eyes well up just as he pulls her closer to him and she snuggles into his warmth and falls into slumber.


~~~~~

And such is the irony of life...
when you think you've reached dead end... you're just gonna get tortured more