Page 57 of Lawfully Yours
“She doesn’t,” he said, appearing over her shoulder. “She’s done.”
Sudha’s gaze flickered between the two of them, before she smiled knowingly. “Alright then… I’ll see you both downstairs.”
And she left.
Arundhati stood there, mortified. Still breathless. Still reeling. Her fingers tightened around the doorframe. She didn’t dare turn to look at him again.
He stepped forward, reached around her, and pushed the door shut with one hand before pinning Arundhati to the door.
“We need to talk,” he said in a serious tone, but she didn’t let him continue.
“I’m not interested. Whatever you have to say, I’ve heard enough.”
She pushed him a bit, the ache in her left arm shooting again from her action, but she didn’t show it on her face. She swung the door open.
“And enough of your ‘time please’ proposition. I’m least interested in playing your little games.”
But the moment she opened the door, she froze again.
Raj Verma stood right outside, his hand half-raised as if he’d just been about to knock. He blinked, caught off-guard by the tension in the air and the flushed faces staring back at him.
“What’s going on here?” he asked, his eyes darting between the two of them. “What’s taking you both so long?”
Kushal straightened, his expression snapping back to his composed and arrogant self.
“We’re done,” he said flatly, stepping past Arundhati as if nothing had happened.
“Come down soon. Don’t keep everyone waiting.”
And then, he walked away, guiding Raj down the stairs like nothing in the last fifteen minutes had almost set both of them on fire.
Arundhati stood there, her fingers still curled around the edge of the door, her chest heaving, and the ghost of an almost-kiss burning on her lips.
Chapter 10
Raj Verma’s Villa, Delhi – Birthday Party
When Arundhati descended the grand staircase, heads turned at her graceful presence. Kushal now stood by the bar, holding a glass of scotch. His gaze locked on her as if the rest of the world had melted away.
Their eyes met for a brief second, but she looked away first, pretending to scan the guests.
But it didn’t stop there.
A few minutes later, while she politely smiled at a guest, she felt that familiar pull again. Her eyes betrayed her, flickering back toward the bar where Kushal stood, his scotch now forgotten in his hand, his entire attention riveted to her. His stare was no longer mocking, no longer arrogant. It was deeper and genuine. As if he was lowering his guard for her.
Arundhati straightened her shoulders and quickly turned her attention to someone else, but not before catching the way his mouth curved into a regretful smirk.
She moved around the party, exchanging pleasantries, feeling his gaze trailing her, like a secret touch only she could sense. Even when she wasn’t looking, she knew. Kushal’s presence wasn’t easy to ignore. And tonight, it was impossible.
And the strange thing was, it reminded her of the first time they had met like this, at Verma & Associates’ 20th Anniversary Celebration. Even then, their eyes had found each other across a crowd, speaking volumes where words had failed. Two strangerscaught in a magnetic pull, too stubborn to approach, too affected to look away. History was repeating itself tonight, but with far more complicated emotions layered between them.
Her mind drifted back to what had happened upstairs. The way Kushal had helped her with her saree, the way he had said he wanted to talk. She knew. It had to be about Kamya. About the past. Only because once again, today, she had reminded him how wrong he had been, how his choices, his ambitions, had driven them here, on opposite sides of their divorce battle.
Minutes later, a server approached Arundhati with a folded tissue. She raised an eyebrow but accepted it.
As she unfolded the tissue, she realised it was Kushal’s unmistakable handwriting:
“I helped you wear that saree. I deserve at least a thank you. But since I know you won’t part those precious lips to say those two beautiful words, let your ears do the work instead. Just listen to what I have to say.”
