"So the mehendi artists are all confirmed for
this weekend. Now, I should warn you that their work definitely will not be as good as the
professionals back in Delhi, but they're the best we could find around here"
Arnav quietly typed an email as Khushi and
Anjali flipped through pamphlets of mehendi designs, trying to narrow
down which pattern would best complement the rest of her bridal attire. Aman
had been running a high fever that morning, and unwilling to send Anjali
alone for the exhaustive wedding preparations, he had begged Arnav to accompany his
sister. But as luck would have it, the man did not need much convincing-- any opportunity to steal a few glimpses of Khushi was worth all its torture. He had not
distracted her or gotten in her way, however, watching with silent admiration as she
poured her heart into her work.
"Okay. I think that's about it," Khushi clapped
excitedly. "We should be all set for Saturday. But Di, I insist you relax a bit before the big day." She covered Anjali's hand with her
own, smiling warmly.
"You and Aman need to come home and join us for dinner at
least once; Tarang and I have been dying to have you. We were planning to have a
small get together at our home tomorrow evening and I insist you come.
Plus, Tarang's cooking his 'world famous' biryani tomorrow, so there are no excuses"
"But Khu--"
"No excuses."
Uncertainly, Anjali's gaze traveled to her
brother, who had wordlessly watched the exchange from his seat. Her eyes were
questioning, as if seeking his permission to visit their home, but Arnav did
not give anything away, shifting his attention back to his empty cup of
coffee. She knew her brother would never refuse her, but somehow Anjali felt
guilty about being entertained in a home that Khushi had built with another
man.
"Your brother is invited as well, of course"
She had said it without thinking. Perhaps the
desire to have Di in her home, meeting her husband and children, had overcome her
rationality. Never, in a million years, did she think she would be inviting
Arnav Singh Raizada within her doorstep. Serving him a meal. Allowing him near
her family. But now that the words were out, there was no turning back.
With a rigid smile, she nodded in his
direction. "We would like to have you. Please do come"
"I wouldn't miss it", he easily agreed, lips
twitching with a smile that reached his eyes.
__________________
They had been on their best behavior - cordial, reservedly polite.
Tarang had stiffly offered him a glass of red wine while Khushi had accepted
his bouquet of carnations with a half smile. Arnav was, after all, the brother
of a very important client - a client that was important for reasons far beyond
just her company's wellbeing. Khushi had not wished to insult or discomfort
Anjali just days before her wedding, and had willed herself to tolerate her
brother in order to run the evening smoothly.
But if she were honest with herself, Arnav
had not done anything particularly insensitive to rile her nerves. He had
kindly shaken Tarang's hand, thanked him for the invitation and followed her
husband into the living room to meet their friends and colleagues. As expected, he had not
participated much in the party's festivities, but had remained unobtrusive and,
shockingly, nestled deep within shadows. Not once had he attempted to speak with her or to even
approach her, but at times she could sense a familiar pair of warm eyes
trailing her movements. Feeling uneasy, she would glance over the rim of her
champagne glass, observing as Arnav stealthily distanced himself from the
conversation about basketball and politics and circled the perimeter of her
living room to discern his surroundings.
He touched the bowl of potpourri she had arranged on the table, sneaked a brief
glance into Shagun's overflowing basket of toys. His eyes wandered around the
warm colors of the room - from the dark red of their walls to the soft colored
beige of their furniture. She felt violated despite the harmlessness of his
actions - something about that particular man peering so deeply into her life
did not sit well with her. And therefore, when he approached the photo gallery that
covered the entirety of their back wall, it was sheer instinct that propelled Khushi's feet forward, and aligned her body between him and the keepsakes of her family.
He raised an eyebrow of surprise, but did not question her, waiting
for her to proceed.
"Ac... Actually. Uh. I had to ask... Right. Arnav, how is everyone
back in Delhi? How is my family?" In her outbreak of discomfort and apprehension,
Khushi had blurted the question that had been pestering her for days... a
question she had been far too keen, but also far too uncomfortable, to approach
Anjali with.
She tried to gather herself.
"I meant, your family. Your grandmother and aunt. Your
brother. How have they been? Is your Uncle still residing in Sweden?"
"Your family is hurting, Khushi", Arnav answered her first question plainly, his heart
twisting as a small frown marred her face. "They miss their daughter and have
been living in abject guilt for over five years. I can't begin to tell you how
overwhelmed they were to hear about Wings for Wishes' success. They're... they're so proud of you. They're so happy for you and your family." When she did
not respond, he quietly continued forward. "But, of course, they feel miserable
for not being part of your life --- that Kinara and Shagun have never experienced
the love of their own grandparents. I can't blame them for hurting."
She scoffed coldly, broken from her trance. "Trust me, I know
what it feels like to be hurting. And despite what you might think, it really does pain me that my family is in that
kind of a position today... but I'm so done berating myself for things
that are no fault of mine. I'm done treating myself like a doormat and allowing
myself to feel guilty over circumstances that didn't transpire because of my mistakes.
I'm not going to compromise my sanity or my family's because someone else is
hurting. I can't go down that damned road again. I can't do it, not for anyone.
I can't --"
"I know..." he interrupted calmly. "And so do they. No one is ever
going to blame you, Khushi. No one expects anything. We pushed you away, and we
live with a lifetime of guilt for it."
With a sad smile and even sadder eyes, he put down his empty glass of
wine and thanked her for the lovely evening, moving towards the front door to
take his leave. She had detected a foreign sentiment, something that she had never noticed in Arnav before. Longing. He had always looked at her with a blatant sort of authority, as one would a personal possession, as though constantly reassured that she was his and his alone. But his eyes today, they spoke of abject loss... of unrequited love and futile desire.
"Wait Arnav" she called after him, surprised by the unfamiliar strain
on her own voice. She hesitated as he turned back around to face her, unsure of how to proceed with the question that had troubled her for years.
"Your Bau Ji is doing astonishingly well, Khushi," he answered for her. "You don't need to
worry. I don't have the will to face him, after whatever I did to you, but his
doctors inform me that he's recovering rapidly. In fact, and you should know
this, your family's temporarily settled into Mussorie while he gets treated at
the facility there - Payal and I had both agreed that he needed some distance
from the city. But he's doing well. Really well."
Khushi felt the weight of guilt and remorse, hoarded after years of endless
self-reproach, being lifted off her shoulders, and she carefully allowed his words to bring a slight, but sincere, smile to her
face.
"Thank you," she whispered.
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