Page 166 of Lawfully Yours
Arundhati’s fingers tightened around her cup, but she kept her eyes lowered.
Raj leaned back with a resigned nod. “Fine. If that’s what you’ve decided, I won’t push further. But don’t forget, you were born for the fight, Kushal. You can’t keep running from it like this.”
Kushal’s lips curved in a humourless smile. “I’m not running, Sir. I’m choosing. For myself this time.”
She swallowed the hurt before finishing the last sip of tea from her mug. His confidence about taking a two-year break to travel felt like a curse. Two years? How was she supposed to survive that long without him? Yet, no matter what he decided, she knew one thing for certain: she would keep fighting for their marriage. She would wait for him to notice her efforts, for him to forgive her, for him to finally give their relationship another chance. She would wait for all of it. But two years? Two years felt like an eternity; she wasn’t sure her heart could endure.
By the time night fully edged in, Raj rose to leave. “Alright, kids, it’s time to leave. I’ll see you both in the morning.”
“Take care, Uncle,” she said before he kissed her forehead.
Kushal quietly accompanied Raj to the elevator while Arundhati stayed back in the house.
At the lobby, while waiting for the elevator doors, Raj placed a hand on his shoulder. “She’s trying, son. With everything she has. And I know you see it too, so don’t pretend you don’t. I understand what it did to you when she once gave you the same cold distance. God knows I’ve tried to talk it out to her then, to give you a chance. And that’s why I’m saying the same to you now. Mend it, Kushal. Mend it before it breaks beyond repair.”
Kushal only gave a curt nod, unwilling to let his words sink deeper than they already had.
When the elevator doors closed, he stood a moment longer in the hallway before turning back toward the penthouse. When he returned, the lights in the kitchen were dim, and Arundhati was at the sink, quietly rinsing the tea cups.
Kushal was still holding his cup. He had taken it with him to the lift while seeing off Raj Verma. She glanced at him as he stepped inside and leaned against the counter, waiting for his turn to wash it.
“Give me your cup,” she said simply.
“I’ll wash it.”
“Why can’t I wash your cup? Don’t treat me like a guest here. This is my house too,” she answered. “It won’t hurt to help.”
“I said I’ll wash my cup. You don’t have to bother. Finish yours. I can wait.”
He did wait, close behind her. Arundhati didn’t force him further and continued with her task. But for Kushal, it was hard to wait. The scent of her perfume rose around him. As she washed the cups, the strap of her spaghetti top slipped from one shoulder; the motion was so slight it could have been anaccident, but to him it was an invitation written in a language he had not forgotten. Knowing her hands were wet and she was still busy with her task of washing, he set his cup down and closed the gap.
His fingers moved before his mind did, brushing the strap back up with the gentleness of a man easing a bruise. The faintest graze of his knuckle against her bare skin made her stiffen, but she didn’t step away. She just turned the tap off with a trembling hand, then leaned back into him, offering more. Her spine pressed into his chest, her body surrendering an inch at a time, daring him to either claim her or step away once and for all.
For Kushal, that felt like another soft invitation. Although he should have kept his hands off her if he really didn’t want to forgive her yet, he wrapped his arms around her waist, anchoring her to him, while his mouth lowered. His lips brushed the delicate shell of her ear, tasting the heat of her skin. She drew in a sharp breath, her knuckles gripping the edge of the counter, but she didn’t stop him. For a suspended moment, everything else fell away. All that remained was the rhythm of their breathing, and the tremble of her body in his arms.
His nose grazed along the line of her jaw, drinking in the intoxicating scent of her hair. Every nerve in his body screamed to turn her fully into his arms, to press his mouth to hers until neither of them could breathe.
Within seconds…his hands betrayed him. One splayed firmly at her stomach, drawing her back closer into him, the other sliding up the curve of her waist towards her breast. His fingers trembled along the way, knowing they were crossing a line.
Just as his fingers brushed her soft breast, she whispered his name with longing, wanting more, and that snapped through his haze. His muscles went rigid. With a sharp inhale, Kushal pulledback. His arms dropped, the heat of his touch vanishing as he stepped back abruptly.
Arundhati opened her eyes. Her face hardened with hurt and fury. This kind of rejection always felt brutal.
“Why?” She spun to face him. “Why do you always do this? If you want distance, Kushal, then stop pulling me into your arms like I mean something only to push me away the next second. Stop loving me in pieces,” she demanded.
Although hurt to see her like this, he still kept his pride high. “I’m only returning the favour.”
She closed the distance between them, fingers knotting into the fabric of his shirt until the heat of him touched her palms. “I know I hurt you,” she said. “I misunderstood your intentions. I ignored you, pushed you away when all you wanted was me. You survived it all, but my heart isn’t as strong as yours. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve been living with you like a stranger in our house. You don’t even look at me unless you have to. Do you even realise what I’m going through? How does it feel to sleep in another room despite staying under the same roof with your husband?”
He saw the rage and pain on her face, but chose to remain mute, letting her speak.
“Every night I leave the door unlocked in the hope you’ll come. I hope you’ll see how much I want you, hope you’ll pick me up and carry me back to our bed and never let me go.”
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she continued.
“I don’t think I can survive like this for long. I’ve never wanted someone as much as I have wanted you, Kushal. And when you do things like this, giving me a glimpse of what we could be and then shattering it like a glass dream, it crushes my heart. It destroys me.”
She moved closer in anger, fisting his shirt a bit more.
