“Seriously?” she muttered. “Can you stop walking away from me and actually have this goddamn conversation?”
And suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks because the room he had led her into was not the lounge. Not the study. Not even the guest room.
It was their bedroom.
Her heart skipped as she took in the soft beige curtains, the faint scent of sandalwood, the perfectly made, spotless, cosy bed, the books she’d once left on the nightstand, the soft throw on the armchair. And there it was. Her favourite candle, tucked neatly on the shelf, unopened. She had bought it for them. Forthisroom. Fortheirnights.
It looked like nothing had changed.
And that was the problem. Everything had.
She shouldn’t have been here.
She hadn’t planned on entering that room. All she wanted was a confrontation with him. She wanted answers, accountability. She wanted to shout, demand what the hell Kushal was doing disappearing like that for a day. But she didn’t want this. She hadn’t meant to follow him intothisspace.Their bedroom.
And suddenly she wasn’t just standing in a room. She was standing inside a memory. Their beautiful past flashed before her once again.
Kushal walking out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips, water dripping from his collarbone to his chest, and her pretending not to notice, even as her gaze betrayed her. He sprawled on the bed while she picked his shirts for work—always linen, always black or navy, always rolled to the elbows because she liked how his forearms looked in them. She, sitting at the dressing table at night, rubbing lotion into her legs while he lay back and watched her, eyes filled with something so carnal it made her skin flush. The nights they kissed until they couldn’t breathe, until their bodies tangled with need, but stopped themselves. Because they had agreed to wait before taking the next step, wanting to build the foundation of their arranged marriage first. But the chemistry had been crackling, dangerous. Every time his lips met hers, restraint became a prayer they barely clung to.
And now, standing in the same room months later, she felt like the floor was disappearing beneath her.
She spun around to leave, to escape, but before she could, his hand closed around her wrist.
He turned her to face him.
“You wanted my attention. You have it now. Here.”
She yanked her wrist back. “I know what this is about,” she said. “You manipulated me into coming here. Into this room.”
His eyes didn’t move. “You wouldn’t even look at me last night, Arundhati.”
“That’s because I had nothing left to say.”
“That’s not true,” he said quietly. “You just didn’t want to hear whatIhad to say.”
She faltered, just for a beat, before she lifted her chin again. “You still had no right to disappear today. Is this how you plan to run Verma and Associates in future? By ghosting your own clients and colleagues?”
“This has nothing to do with Verma and Associates,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “This is about us.”
“There is nous,” she snapped. “We’re just working partners now. Nothing more.”
“Oh yeah?” he let out a cold laugh. “Then tell me how you let your‘working partner’kiss you last night?”
Her breath stuttered. “That kiss was a mistake. A moment, I couldn’t stop myself from giving in.”
His hands closed around her arms, pulling her close, eyes burning into hers. “Don’t youdarecall that a mistake.”
Their faces hovered inches apart, breath tangled in the tension between them. His eyes searched hers with a feverish intensity. Her own flared in resistance. But when their gazes dropped to each other’s lips, time hung still. Her lips parted slightly, betraying her, and his chest rose in response as if he was holding himself back from the inevitable. For a moment, neither of them breathed. Neither of them moved.
And then, she shoved him.
Hard.
He staggered back a step, jaw clenching.
“I didn’t come here for this,” she snapped, backing off. “Do you even know what happened today?”
“I know,” he said sharply. “Anant and Noyonika’s photo scandal broke this morning. The media’s gone wild. Reputations tanked. Our client’s public image is in shreds.”