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Khushi was still lying by the poolside when NK found her. His heart constricted at the sight of her, a petite form curled in on herself. He slowly approached, bracing himself. He braced himself for her pain, which would leave a scar on his heart. Khushi looked up into NK's gentle eyes when she felt the hand on her shoulder and heard her name in the air. "Khushiji?"
Though NK had prepared himself, the acute misery in Khushi's eyes still sent a pang through his body. She didn't deserve this. "Khushiji?" he questioned again.
Khushi simply shook her head. "Don't Nanheji. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a week. But not right now. I can't. Please." Her eyes implored him not to question her further. And he complied. He never could refuse her. Not the first time he saw her, and definitely not now, when he knew he loved her. He silently held out his hand for her, offering her his support, his friendship, his life. And she took it, blindly putting her trust in the man in front of her. He was all she had now, after the love of her life had utterly and absolutely failed her.
As Khushi took his hand, NK knew. He didn't know what, when, or why. But he knew who. Nannav. Nannav was the only one who could create so much despair in one of the strongest women he knew. Only Nannav had the power to break Khushi's spirit. And in that instant, NK, who was nothing if not kind, whose only aim was to make others laugh, was furious. Nannav had the only thing NK had ever truly wanted: Khushi. And the fool didn't appreciate the treasure he had, the treasure NK would gladly have died for. As he helped Khushi sit down on the bed, NK silently made her a promise: I will fix this Khushiji. For you. For me. For my happiness, which only lies in yours.
As NK softly shut the door behind himself, he came face-to-face with Arnav, who looked murderous. If looks could kill, NK would have been long dead. Arnav, who had seen NK leaving his bedroom, was almost shaking with anger. He had seen every shade of green at the thought that Khushi and NK had been in there, doing God knows what. NK, for his part, didn't look the slightest bit apprehensive. If Arnav hadn't been so consumed with jealousy, he would have noticed that something had changed about NK's demeanor altogether. But at that moment, he was beyond thinking about anything other than the fact that NK had just been in his bedroom. "What the hell were you doing in my room?"
"I was talking to Khushiji."
So he wasn't even going to pretend innocence. Or maybe there was no pretense involved. Maybe they really had been just talking. Arnav quickly pushed aside the rational thought, as he always did, and gave in to his trademark anger. "Why the hell were you in my BEDROOM talking? Don't tell me you couldn't find any other place in all of Shantivan to hold a conversation other than my room."
"Khushiji needed someone. You weren't there. I was." The accusation was blatant in NK's eyes. Unable to answer it, Arnav focused instead on the trivialities of their confrontation.
"It's Bhabi to you."
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