Maybe that was the real problem.
Chapter 13
Dalhousie – Hotel
Despite claiming she would order room service, Arundhati had changed her mind. Hunger, the boredom of being locked in a hotel room, and perhaps something more restless beneath the surface because she had blatantly denied Kushal dinner together, compelled her to dress and come downstairs to the restaurant. She told herself it was just to eat, alone, in silence. Nothing more.
The resort’s restaurant was warm and candlelit, filled with soft jazz playing in the background. The pinewood smell mixed with roasting garlic and freshly baked bread floated through the air, wrapped around her senses. As she stepped inside, a smiling attendant greeted her warmly.
“Good evening, ma’am,” the woman said before Arundhati gave her room number.
The attendant checked it on her list and smiled back at her.
“Mrs. Nair, your husband is already seated,” she added, gesturing politely toward the far end of the dining room.
Arundhati blinked, surprised, then followed her line of sight. Kushal sat alone at a corner table, half-turned toward the room, a tumbler of scotch in one hand. He was dressed casually in a fitted navy T-shirt, dark jeans, and a rugged black jacket. The dim lights gave his features an extra edge, making him stand out amongst all the men around here.
Before Arundhati could ask the attendant for another table, the attendant added with a wink, “Happy honeymoon, Mrs. Nair.”
Her cheeks flamed instantly. “It’s not a honeymoon,” she said quickly. “We’re here for work.”
The woman chuckled softly. “Honeymoon or not, ma’am… this place has romantic energy. When you’re here with your partner, it all begins to feel like one.”
Arundhati didn’t have a response to that. She looked around, hoping to find a vacant table for herself, any excuse not to share space with Kushal tonight, but the restaurant was packed.
Resigned, she nodded politely and followed the attendant, who walked her straight to his table.
Kushal’s eyes lifted when she approached, surprise flickering in his gaze. He didn’t say anything as the attendant pulled out a chair for her, just watched as Arundhati carefully sat down, adjusting the hem of her cardigan over her lap.
“We’ll order shortly,” he told the attendant, as if he were waiting for his wife all this time to decide on the order. As if he was confident that Arundhati would come despite denying him just moments ago.
When the woman left, Arundhati straightened. “I didn’t come here to dine with you. I was bored in the room; besides, there were no empty tables here.”
He didn’t reply. Just leaned back in his chair, took another slow sip from his glass, and slid the menu toward her without breaking his gaze from her.
She reached for the menu, pulling her cardigan a little closer around her chest. The fit of the wool-blend bodycon dress she had worn today was once perfect, but now it hung a little loose around her waist and chest. She hadn’t worn it for over a year. Now the neckline dipped a little lower than she recalled, revealing more of her collarbone and neckline than shepreferred for a dinner withhim. She realised this in the room when she wore it, but hunger had won over hesitation, and rather than wasting more time changing into something else, she simply threw on a cardigan and came down as she was.
Now, as she scanned the menu and tried to distract herself, she felt the focused heat of Kushal’s gaze on her. Like he was studying her again after months apart. Like he was reacquainting himself with a memory that still made him desire her.
She looked up at him in irritation, but that didn’t bother him at all. Instead, he just took another swig of his drink and set the glass down, eyes still on her.
“You’ve lost weight,” he said.
That caught her off guard. For a second, she felt that familiar sting, another reminder of how often her uncle and colleagues had made similar observations lately. But from Kushal, it felt different. More personal. As if he had noticed not just the change, but the reason behind it. That she hated living alone. That she skipped her meals often.
So, without thinking, she snapped, “Maybe I’ve lost some weight, but I have it in all the right places. Where it counts.”
The words were out before she could stop herself.
He raised an eyebrow, then grinned slowly. Her reaction had given him exactly what he needed. “I’m sure,” he murmured, and then let his gaze dip briefly but deliberately over the neckline of her dress. His smirk deepened, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes, like he was checking the proof himself and quite enjoying the confirmation.
The moment his eyes lifted back to hers, she regretted saying anything at all. She had walked into dinner expecting distance. Instead, she found herself already caught in a fire she hadn’t meant to ignite.
And he? He was already burning.
Arundhati glared at him from across the candlelit table, jaw tight, though anyone who knew her well enough could tell she was only pretending to be truly angry.
Kushal, lounging back in his chair, met her gaze with a raised brow.