Rules Of Attraction#3 Chapter 37 02/10 Pg73 NEW! - Page 37

Promise me you'll never pull on a stunt like this every again. Promise me that you'll at least try, try to not push me away every time you start thinking about the what-would-happen-afters. Can you do that Khushi?

It was rather taxing for Khushi to deliberate on anything at all, in the weeks that followed after Arnav had exacted that promise from her. She hadn't once found a minute's gap to sit and think. It was as if Arnav was attuning her to live only in the present. The girl who had unconsciously become neurotic had almost always relentlessly been on guard for cataclysms large and small. Her spirit was subdued, sad and the disease that had victimised her had left her life equivalent to a storm-swept despondency, as much a burden as a vanity. Nonetheless, she now bit by bit felt the upsurge of vague longings that were long supressed. Hence that one morning, whilst she sat awkwardly in the sunken bathtub, bubbling warm water reaching a little below her chest ... Arnav stood behind her, his fingers lathering shampoo onto her hair. A faint scent of cherry blossom hung around them, as Khushi sat dazed listening to her husband hum Rafi's Deewana Mujhsa Nahi.

A small smile hit her lips as she sensed the cool metallic touch of the spray nozzle against her cheek; seconds after, wallows of nippy water gushed down her neck. A large warm hand seemingly slid up her head, cupping it as she leant into the familiarity of his touch. As his thumb massaged down her temple whilst rinsing her hair, she tried hard to fight the clammy heat that titillated through her blood. With every pinpoint of pressure from his fingers against her skin, new places in her body felt aroused and burnt. With Arnav she concluded, every touch felt mellifluous, though strangely naive. She felt herself being rudely robbed of her soporific stance with a loud kiss placed on the crook of her neck as he stood up to walk out of the shower stall. "What? That's it...?" She heard herself asking, surprised at the libidinous wantonness of her words. The incendiary, infuriating husband of hers simply teased his lips against hers and then, smiling a solemn smile at her, (the facets of which she couldn't cognize then) he ambled away.

*

She had been battling recurrent headaches for over weeks now and this one morning, he had taken upon himself to help her get rid of it, in ways only he could. Arnav sighed heavily, as he remembered the tufts of soft black strands falling lifelessly onto his hand moments after he had woven his fingers through the long length of her hair. That second all thought flew out of his mind - the amatory visual of the length of her willowy neck, the aching want to kiss every inch of that slope and lower, rest his lips against her softness and taste every part of her body. Instead, like a stroke of white heat, agonizing and blinding, he began to discern the palpable thinning and hair loss she had been imperilled to after the chemotherapy. He felt a sense of loss overpower him and for the first time he comprehended that being there for her no matter what, seemed inexorable, but facing and acclimatizing to the vicissitudes that came along that journey would be anything but difficult. He still remembered how the long stretch of those silky black waves felt when he had buried his face into them time and again. Other than scenting like something citrusy and floral it always offered him deep comfort, serenity. He felt loss, nothing catastrophic or colossal, but the kind you feel when your fingertips are just about to touch a drop of rain resting on the glass window, and just when you are a breath apart, it slips away. Her broken hair strands too, sodden and drenched slipped away from in between his fingers with the unremitting stream of water. The initial bubbling enthusiasm at the start of the idyllic day slowly seemed to be opening up a labyrinth of veracities.

*

Chunks of hair had been cut off with finesse, and as Arnav continued, Khushi saw an endearing pageboy coiffure slowly taking shape. "I wonder why I'm letting you do this. I thought you liked my long hair, didn't you?" Khushi inquisitively turned her face towards his, only to be gently turned back around, as he continued his work with a pair of scissors. "I loved your hair, you know that! It's just...just that it was a little boring, plus if I remember correctly, you seemed a little too enthusiastic at the prospect of me giving you a haircut sweetheart!" Khushi saw her husband smiling as he was speaking, but it didn't take her more than one glimpse so know precisely how obligatory it was. "Is something wrong Arnav? Do I look too thin... the damned chemotherapy is doing this to me, you know that! It has started to show, right? The ...this waxen skin and, and--"Arnav was rendered speechless for more than a few minutes, even as his arms pulled Khushi's tear-glazed face into his chest, even as he felt her cry softly into his shirt. He just wanted everything to stop that very second. The sound of her sobs, the fear he felt for her, for himself, for them. He wanted the pain, the nauseating ache in his mind to stop. He did not want to feel anything anymore. He didn't want to do anything; he didn't want to feel scared constantly. He didn't want to be brave, strong, or weak. He didn't want to be anything. He didn't want to be here.But then again Arnav questioned himself, was there anywhere else he would rather be. Would he ever want anything with as much zest as her?

"You are beautiful Khushi. Don't ever think otherwise. I still want to touch you almost always, don't you ever notice? When I promised to share your life with you, I did it for a reason. I want to see it all. You turning into a very pregnant woman, your hair turning grey, the wrinkles, everything. I want every morning, every evening...every hour with you." Khushi smiled from in-between her tears, as she rose from the cocoon of his arms, dazzling him, as always. "I want these smiles, the tears, your kisses. I want it all, the taste of your skin, the scent of your hair, everything."

And then as she hugged him impatiently, still crying, he closed his eyes, tightening his hold around her.

*