Page 73 of Lawfully Yours

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Next Day

The next morning, Arundhati walked into Verma & Associates in another tailored slate-grey pantsuit, her purse tucked under one arm and a stack of files clutched in the other. She looked every inch composed on the outside. But inside, her mind was nothing but a swirling mess of unanswered questions and unsettled feelings.

Sleep had barely touched her last night. After walking out of Kushal’s penthouse the night before without uttering a single word, she had replayed his confession on a loop in her head.I want a fresh start, Aru.

It should have been easier to ignore his fresh confession. Easier to dismiss, the way she’d dismissed countless things since their separation. But it wasn’t. Not when his voice still lingered in her ears, not when the memory of his forehead pressed to hers, not when the feel of his lips on hers still left goosebumps on her skin.

A part of her wanted to yell, to ask him why now? After nine months of silence and separation, after months of pain, betrayal, and her struggle to unlearn everything she once felt for him, he suddenly wanted a fresh start. Why was he suddenly choosing her over everything else?

And what did that even mean?

What about Kamya? What about the ambitions that had driven him to say yes to her uncle’s proposal without blinking? What about the wounds she still carried all these months?

No. She wasn’t ready. Not to trust. Not to hope. Definitely not to fall again. And now, she didn’t know what was more terrifying, him hiding things from her… or him telling the truth.

She turned the corner toward her cabin when Raj Verma approached her.

“Good, you’re here,” he said briskly. “I need you and Kushal in the conference room in ten. We have to review Anant’s situation. Things are moving fast.”

She paused. “Kushal is here?”

Raj nodded, not catching the brief flicker of surprise on her face. “Yes. His morning flight to Dalhousie got cancelled. He’s flying this evening now.”

“Oh,” was all she could manage.

Raj gave her a distracted pat on the shoulder. “Grab your coffee. I’ll see you in the conference room in ten.”

And just like that, he was gone, striding toward his office, leaving Arundhati with a dozen new pulses of anxiety.

Kushal was here. In the same building. In the same office. After everything that happened between them last night. And she had to sit in the same room with him, discuss legal strategy, act like nothing had shifted?

She pushed the thoughts down, reminding herself that this was work. Just work. She turned into her cabin, dropped her things on the desk, and headed for the pantry to get a moment alone to steel herself.

Inside, the new office boy was awkwardly fumbling with the coffee machine. She arched a brow.

“Who are you making that for?” she asked, walking in.

The boy turned quickly, flustered. “Uh, Kushal sir. He said he has a bad headache and asked for coffee.”

She glanced at the machine and immediately realised he had chosen the wrong option—latte. Kushal didn’t drink lattes. He hated milk-heavy coffees. His preference had always been precise: double-shot cappuccino, strong, no sugar, full crema, and hot enough to burn his lips. It wasn’t just a drink to him…it was a ritual.

Arundhati sighed and stepped forward. “Don’t bother,” she said. “I’ll take care of it. You go.”

The boy blinked. “Ma’am, are you sure?”

She was already resetting the machine. “Yes. I’ll take his too. I’m heading to the conference room.”

He nodded and left.

She had no idea why she’d offered. Maybe it was a habit. Or maybe... maybe part of her just needed to feel in control of something this morning.

She began making the coffee, mechanically at first, choosing the right settings, adjusting the pressure, letting the machine roar to life. But as the aroma filled the air, her thoughts slipped into a memory she hadn’t invited.

It was from one of their quieter evenings, early into their marriage. She had been standing in their kitchen, stirring a whipped blend of coffee and sugar into a frothy paste…dalgona-style, something she’d learned online. He’d appeared behind her out of nowhere, and then, without warning, his hands had slid around her arms, squeezing gently, his lips finding the curve of her neck where her messy bun had left it bare.

“You making coffee like this might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,”he had whispered in his husky voice beforehis teeth had found the soft skin beneath her jaw. The bite had left a mark that stayed for days.