ArHi FF || Serendipity #5 || CH 59 Pg 136 (JAN 16TH 2017) (new update) - Page 91

Many years ago, when Khushi Kumari Gupta had fainted upon a deserted road on a cold, dark night, one thoughtful and very kind psychiatrist had taken her into his nearby office. He had brought her apples and medicine and a hot cup of chai, and had miraculously seen something in that broken, pitiful women that pulled at his heartstrings.

Without even a single moment of hesitancy or second thought, he had offered her a job. He had offered her security and a well respected place in his home. 

But he never expected or asked for anything in return. Not love. Not friendship. Not even loyalty. 

And as months passed by, this shattered woman, who had been torn and battered by hatred and doubt, began to heal in this wonderful man's cocoon of love.

An unconditional cocoon of love... one that did not falter when she jerked away from his touch, one that did not falter when she had no affection to offer in return, one that did not falter when a multi-millionaire began making life remarkably difficult for them.

That warm, unconditional cocoon of love remained sturdy and intact, even when this thoughtful and very kind psychiatrist discovered that the woman he loved was pregnant with another man's child.

But still, he never faltered.

He continued to love Khushi, and even her unborn baby, with a devotion she very well knew she did not deserve. That one thoughtful and very kind psychiatrist would accompany her to every ultrasound and every appointment; he would spend his weekends buying onesies and pacifiers, calling only the best gynecologists in Gurgaon to elaborate on details regarding her prescribed medications.

And the moment he had seen her fallen, distraught face glancing over the hospital forms she had once been asked to fill, Tarang Lal Kher had silently signed his name as the baby's father. Khushi Gupta had never felt more grateful to anyone in her life.

Slowly, but surely, she could feel the ice surrounding her heart beginning to thaw away.  She was scared, she was cautious, but most surprisingly, she found herself happy to be falling in love. At times she even felt selfish, wanting a man like Tarang for herself, when she very well knew that he deserved a woman with far less emotional baggage, who could love him as fearlessly as he loved her. But she did not dissuade his pursuits, thinking that maybe, just maybe, it would be okay to think about herself for a change.  

When Jigri Maa passed away and the community began raising fingers at her bloated tummy, Tarang had fought for her, indifferent to what a pregnant, unwed woman living in his home would insinuate. When he confessed his love and kissed her later that night, his hands had been draped protectively around her, no their, unborn child. And days later, when he had taken her to New York and married her, he had jokingly told the justice that he thought himself the luckiest man in the world, because he was welcoming not one, but two very beautiful, very precious girls into his life that afternoon.  

Khushi's dark, lonely life began changing drastically and fast. She began smiling more, talking more, moving in and out of their small Manhattan apartment. To keep her occupied during the day, Tarang hired a tutor to teach her English and high school level basics, and was happily surprised when she picked his mind regarding the pros and cons of running a wedding planning business a few weeks later. His wife began blossoming like a flower, letting her petals peek open and touch the light of the sun.

But she finally bloomed, once and for all, on a cold, winter morning, when her daughter breathed life into her world. Seven pounds, with a pinched nose and big, hazel eyes. She bore a striking resemblance to her mother, though if one looked carefully enough, traces of her father were unquestionably present. Khushi had watched worriedly as her husband first took the baby in his arms, afraid of how he'd react now that their daughter was a tangible reality.

But again, he had surprised her.

"I'm going to love you so much, so damn much... You're going to be your daddy's little angel."

And little Miss Kinara held him to that promise. She grew up in a world of unconditional, infinite love, with a father who worked tirelessly to place the world at her feet. Tarang loved his daughter as though his life depended on it, and more than happily took the reins of parenting while Khushi worked on setting up her business. He did the same for Shagun when she was born a couple years later, although he, and even Khushi, knew that his 'shona baby Kinna' held the most special and the most vulnerable place in his heart. Everything they said about first-borns turned out to be true after all.

In just five and a half delightful years, Tarang had become Khushi's entire world. He was what kept her breathing. He was what kept her sane. She fell a little more in love with every passing moment she spent beside him. Her days began by kissing him good morning and they ended by kissing him good night. The very fabric of her existence, the thread, every last fiber, was Tarang Lal Kher, a man who had selflessly sacrificed everything for her and her children, asking only for their love and companionship in return.

And therefore it was not surprising, to say the very least, that this very thoughtful, very kind man had jumped in front of Khushi that fateful night, and taken two bullets into his chest in order to save her life.

Her world had crashed around her. Her breath had left her lungs.

Khushi did not register when or how Arnav's briefcase was seized out of his hands. She did not register the sound of an engine roaring loudly to life. She did not register a bullet piercing the other kidnapper in the back of the skull or Kinara beginning to stir awake upon the cold gravel.

For she lost sense of her limbs and crashed upon the ground, vision blurring, ears buzzing, and soundlessly watching as her husband struggled to breathe, choking on fresh blood rising quickly up his throat.

Her body went cold and frigid, and when Tarang's unsteady hand reached for her own, covered in something warm, thick and red, an irrational part of her brain panicked that he was running a fever.

"Kh... Khushi," he gagged, trying desperately to speak. "Marry Ar... Arnav. Kin... Kinara needs her fa...father."

His voice sounded distant and stifled, and she could feel the weight of his words growing heavy upon her shoulders. 

"I... I'll love you far beyond my la...last breath, Kh...Khushi Gupta," he smiled. "I'll l...love you forever."

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Comments? 😳 Pretty please? I worked hard on this one for you guys!