Page 99 of Lawfully Yours
Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t back down. “I didn’t wipe it off because it’s sacred,” she snapped. “Because no matter whatyouturned it into, it still means something tome.I didn’t want to wipe it off casually and bring bad omen onyou…”
She faltered for half a second, then corrected herself with a quiet, bitter edge.
“Onme.”
She looked away again, avoiding his gaze. “It’ll wash away tomorrow morning when I shower.”
But that wasn’t enough for him.
Kushal exhaled, shaking his head in disbelief. “One mistake from me—no, two—and that’s all it took for you to rewrite everything between us? You’ve spun an entire marriage out of two moments of failure and decided that’s all I’m worth.”
She said nothing.
“You’re willing to mourn what we had for the rest of your life, but not talk about it. Not actuallylisten.You won’t let me apologise, won’t let me plead, won’t even let yourselfhope.”
His voice cracked slightly as he continued. “You’re angry, I get it. You’re hurt, and I deserve that. But your ego?” He stepped closer. “It’s louder than anything else. Even your own heart and body have been screaming at you to stop fighting me since the moment we got here.”
Arundhati flinched. He just let the silence burn between them for a beat before raking a frustrated hand through his hair and stepping back.
“If this is how it’s going to be,” he said like the fight had drained from him, “then even if youdogive us a second chance… it won’t last. And this time the reason will be you. Not me.”
He looked at her with resignation.
“And this time, it’ll be on you for destroying whatever honest and intimate thing we still had a chance at,” he added.
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked toward the bathroom. Just before closing the door behind him, he saidover his shoulder, “I’ll take half an hour to get ready. If you don’t want to wait here… I’ll meet you downstairs.”
The door clicked shut, and with it, the heavy silence returned.
Arundhati finally let out the breath she’d been holding. Every conversation with him left her breathless and chaotically charged. She turned slowly, and instead of returning to her room, she stepped out.
***************
The garden just beyond the resort had been transformed into a picturesque haven for honeymooners. There were string lights dangling from trees like golden vines, the fire pit crackling in the centre, and soft instrumental music curling through the mountain air. Lanterns flickered on tables arranged in intimate circles, casting a warm glow on the couples lounging close together, whispering and stealing kisses, laughing as if they were alone in their own worlds.
It was beautiful. And unbearable.
Everywhere she looked, there was a touch of intimacy. It physically hurt to witness this. Her eyes wandered to a young couple a few feet away…he had his coat draped over her shoulders, their foreheads resting against each other. Another pair giggled as they struggled to roast marshmallows over the fire. Someone played with their partner’s hair, someone else fed their spouse cake with fingers instead of spoons.
Romance bloomed all around her, and Arundhati felt like a dried branch in the middle of a monsoon.
She wrapped her shawl a little tighter and let her gaze drift away from them, only for her mind to drift back tohim. To Kushal. To that infuriating statement he made earlier:“Even if you give us a second chance, it won’t last. And this time, it’ll be on you.”
Her fingers curled into fists.
How dare he say that? How dare he make her feel like the villain for not forgiving him on command? As if forgiveness was a button you pressed, not something you earned. As if second chances came without scars.
But the more honest voice, the one deep inside her, whispered what she didn’t want to admit.
Forgiveness didn’t come easily to her. Not because she was proud. Not because she liked holding grudges. But because offering someone a second chance felt like tearing open a door she’d kept bolted shut for most of her life.
Every time she even thought about forgiveness and second chances, it felt like she was bargaining with fate. She knew where it came from. She always had. But it was the one place inside her she refused to go. A wound so old and so deep it had calcified into silence. She had never spoken about it. Not to anyone. Not even to her uncle, the only family she had left.
There were things in her past that made forgiveness feel dangerous. And so, instead of reaching for healing, she held on to control. Because control was safer than vulnerability. Safer than love.
And now here was Kushal, standing right in front of that closed door, knocking hard, demanding she open it without knowing what it cost her to keep it locked.
She wasn’t angry at him.
