Page 69 of Forbidden

My heart lurches as I hear that and see Aarav’s signatures on the cheque. Aarav’s company wants to sponsor with us? How did he even get to know about my initiative? Does he still have spies on me? How many? To what extent? I recall Aarav always telling me he knew everything about my life in London, even when we hadn’t met. Is he continuing that approach still? This has to stop!!

“I will meet him and check on this,” I say, clearing my throat.

“Sure, Ma’am. Do you want us to set an appointment for today?”

“Ah No. I’ll do this myself. Thanks.”

I don’t want to take an official appointment to see him. I know how to get to him without that, as I want to meet him when he is totally unprepared to see me. I quickly check Aman’s Instagram status where he has tagged the hotel, he has checked in. Obviously, Aarav is in that same hotel too. So, I know where to see him now.

*********************

I knocked on the door of room 1430 in Hotel Grange, one of the best hotels in London, 2-min away from St. Paul’s Cathedral. Restless to meet him and finish this once for all, I’m about to knock again when the door finally opens and there he is. In a dark grey suit, with a black button-down shirt inside, Aarav looked all professional and ready to bark orders. Was he busy? Working? Did I intrude on his work time? I don’t know, but he doesn’t look surprised seeing me at his door nor does he do anything to welcome me. Leaning at the door, with his arms crossed at the front, Aarav gives me a quick glance top to bottom. I’m wearing a maroon sack dress with high leather boots, which have suddenly started biting me now.

“I always knew you would end up knocking at my door, but hadn’t expected it this soon,” he teases.

Damn!! Can I be angry and still blush? Control!! I need to control myself to tackle him.

“Do you want all my answers from here or am I allowed to come inside?” I ask.

His grin is back. Moving aside, Aarav gestures to me to get in the room and I don’t wait too long to do so. I walk in. The room is neat, filled with luxurious interiors and classy furniture. The most expensive one-bedroom suite in this hotel is what this is. A half-empty glass of wine on the table before the couch grabs my attention. He was drinking?

“Don’t you think you have been drinking a lot lately?”

“The answer depends on who’s asking me this. The Jhanvi Sikand who is here to return me the cheque I signed for her next charity initiative or my wife, who is still unsure what exactly she wants from our marriage?” He takes a step closer without breaking our eye lock.

I’m stupefied by his mind-reading skills. How does he know what I am here for?

“Stop stalking my life, Aarav. I don’t like you knowing everything about me like I am some open book you can read anytime you want.”

He passes me an amused look.

“Knowing everything about your wife is always a sign of a good husband, Jaan.”

He said it again. ‘Jaan’. That word had echoed like a mantra in my head for months. I don’t realize when his thumb pad rubs my lower lip, pulling it down in an attempt to tease me. I want to retaliate, but there’s something possessive about the way he touches me that leaves me cold and hot at the same instance.

“God, you are beautiful.”

His voice comes out gruffer and choked with emotions. I have been praised before by many men, mostly friends, but the way Aarav said this, I suddenly feel like a goddess. What is it that captivates me to him? It can’t be a genuine attraction because this man had married me forcefully.But he wants a real marriage now.My subconscious mind pokes siding with him. So? So what? It is natural for him to fall for an innocent beauty like me, but it’s equally heart wrenching for me to feel more than an attraction for a man who used me as a pawn to up his revenge game.

The moment I realize what I need to do, I push him away. He doesn’t take it well. Obviously, he throws a mad look at me and then clenches his jaw.

“I am not here to sort our personal life, Aarav. So, please, will you come out of your stalking and predatory self and let me discuss what I am here for?”

It hurts his ego for sure, but he walks back to the couch, picks the half-filled glass and gulps the wine. I wait until he settles down on the couch, spreading himself there like he owns every bit of mankind. I take a cue from his silence as my chance to speak.

“I can’t accept your cheque.” I remove the cheque and place it on the table before him.

“Why? You needed a sponsor, a partner who could share your funding towards the present charity initiative. I’m ready to be one. What’s so wrong about this?”

“You, being my husband, is wrong. It looks like you are offering help only to bring me back in your life.”

“I never lost you to bring you back, Jhanvi.”

How confident? Does he think he never lost me? And wait. He called me Jhanvi now, means he is pissed. He looks pissed.

"The initiative is relevant to what I had planned to do for my late mother.” Aarav takes a pause as if lost in the thoughts of his mother. Did I touch his wrong nerve? How could I forget how much this initiative would mean to him? Will he guess why I specifically chose this one as my priority over others?

In a minute, he is composed and facing me again.

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