Page 19 of Lawfully Yours
Not that he would ever admit it.
Because if he did, he’d have to admit he missed having his wife here, too.
And that was something Kushal Nair refused to do.
That’s why he hated this part of his nights the most. Because, despite all the arrogance, all the walls he built, all the pretences, the one thing he didn’t have was the one thing that taunted him every single night.
A wife who actually wanted to be with him.
Not just a wife in name. Not just a woman who shared his last name out of obligation.
And certainly not one who was determined to divorce him.
With a clenched jaw, he placed the bottle down, turned on his heel, and walked back inside, heading straight for his bedroom.
But again, he knew sleep wouldn’t come easily. It never did. Not since she walked out of this house and never looked back.
And he wasn’t sure which was worse? The fact that she left, or the fact that despite everything, a part of him still wanted her to turn around.
****************
Next Day
Arundhati’s car pulled up to the curb, but before the driver could even step out to open the door, she noticed the commotion ahead. Her brows furrowed. Something wasn’t right.
A group of nearly twenty women, holding placards and banners, had gathered at the firm’s entrance, blocking the driveway. Their voices rose in protest.
“Down with Verma & Associates!”
“Stop defending abusers!”
“Justice for Sadhna Mukherjee!”
Arundhati’s grip on the door handle tightened as she took in the scene. She realised their anger was fuelled by the latest twist in the Anant-Sadhna divorce scandal. Kushal’s leaked media tiphad worked exactly as intended. It had flipped the narrative, planting a seed of doubt about Sadhna’s financial dealings and shifting public sympathy towards Anant.
But there were always those who refused to see the other side. And today, the battle had moved to their doorstep.
She stepped out and calmly shut the car door behind her, but before she could take another step, the wall of furious women turned toward her like a storm about to strike.
One of them, a middle-aged woman with a fierce expression, blocked her path.
“Arundhati Nair,” she spat, hatred dripping from her tone. “Walk away from this case before it’s too late.”
Arundhati’s lips curled into an unimpressed smirk.
“I don’t take orders from a street protest,” she replied.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
A younger woman with fiery eyes and a clenched jaw pushed forward, pointing an accusatory finger at her.
“You’re defending a man who emotionally abused his wife!” she shouted. “You call yourself a woman and still stand with Anant Mukherjee?”
“I call myself a lawyer,” she corrected. “And as a lawyer, I believe in the law. Anant Mukherjee has the right to fight his side, just like Sadhna does. This case isn’t decided by public outrage. It’s decided in court.”
The woman scoffed, shaking her head.
“A woman who couldn’t even handle her own marriage wants to fight for a man’s innocence?”
