But how would Ma react to it? Would she be okay with her and Arnav? She had wanted her to marry NK but-
Khushi felt the beginnings of doubt creep up, but a quiet sob from Sakshi stilled her in her tracks. Khushi looked closer, seeing what her mother was fingering.
She was standing at the stove, fingering the cup that Anjali used gently. Khushi heard the faint sniffle from her and walked over, wrapping her arms around her in a hug.
Sakshi reached up, brushing Khushi's hair back as she continued to look out of the window, a sad smile on her face.
"It's so quiet without her, isn't it?"
Khushi nodded against her shoulder, the tears prickling at her own eyes. Sakshi sighed heavily, looking down at the cup.
"You will be gone too, and then... it'll just be me and Papa, in this huge house. What will we do without you both?"
She turned around, catching Khushi in her grasp as she wiped away the tears. Khushi held back her own, squeezing her mother's hand with a watery smile.
"Maybe I don't have to go..."
Sakshi gave her a reproving look, smacking the side of her head softly. Khushi stifled her laugh, grinning at Sakshi.
"Nahi, Khushi, it is the peril of a mother with daughters that she has to let them go someday."
Khushi shook her head, leaning against the older woman.
"Nahi Ma, but we will never leave you. You're stuck."
She pronounced, a mischievous grin on her face. Sakshi chuckled, rolling her eyes.
"What will you do, bring your husband here?"
"Nahi, but I could-"
Marry Arnav, and I would stay here.
Khushi broke off abruptly, biting down on her lip so hard that she left a deep groove. The words had nearly spilled out of her without a second thought, sounding so effortless.
They hadn't even thought of what to tell Ma and Papa. What would Ma and Papa think? Would they be okay with her and...
They, she mused. It was such an innocuous word, that seemed to mean so much, change so much. She had used it millions of times, but there was something novel about it amid the familiarity.
Khushi's brow furrowed worriedly, and she sighed, the thoughts spinning in her mind. She turned only to catch Sakshi looking at her expectantly, a curious look on her face. Smiling brightly, Khushi shook her head, directing her attention elsewhere.
"Papa and Arnavji must be waiting! We've spent so long in this kitchen..."
Sakshi started and immediately began bustling around, distracted. Khushi heaved a sigh of relief, the awkward moment forgotten amid the chaos of getting dinner ready.
But the thought lingered in Khushi's mind. The monster in the shadows became clearer, reminding her that she couldn't ignore him for long, no matter how hard she tried.
She walked into the dining room with that thought in mind, distracted as she took the subzi and began to serve.
How would they tell Ma and Papa? And there was still the matter of his job, what about that?
Would he tell her himself? Should she ask him...?
She felt a warm hand against her wrist and looked down, catching Arnav's gaze.
"Bas, Khushi, how much will you serve me?"
Arnav's words held a hint of humor but she didn't notice. She smiled tightly, murmuring an apology as she turned away, sliding into her seat across from him. His face clouded over and he glanced at her worriedly, watching her carefully.
He could see the apprehensiveness playing across her face, clearly distracted as she absentmindedly ripped a piece of roti and dipped it into the dal. He didn't know what was bothering her, but he knew something was.
And he hated it, hated the furrow between her brows. He wished he could hug her right then, reassure her that it would work out. Glancing around the table, his eyes fell on the rice.
"Khushi, could you pass me the rice?"
She looked at him oddly, seeing as the rice was easily within his reach. But he kept up an innocent facade, letting her hand the rice towards him.
She felt the press of his fingers against hers, and she couldn't help but smile at him, the tension leaving her body.
Ashok glanced between the two of them with a perceptive gaze.
Arnav urged Khushi to meet his gaze, and she looked up. As he took it from her, he held his fingers against hers, lingering for a moment too long. Her eyes widened and Ashok could see the surprise flash across her face. Arnav held her gaze, and her mouth parted in a silent gasp as she realized what he had been trying to do.
Ashok looked away, feeling as if he had accidentally wandered into a private moment. He felt vaguely like an elephant bustling through a museum, out of place and blundering, the intimacy stunning him.
Had Arnav asked her to marry him?
He looked between the two of them again, watching as they interacted. They were talking about something mundane... something that seemed to be dancing around what they both wanted to address.
He watched as Arnav gave her a smile, one that Ashok had never seen before. Arnav quickly covered it up, but it was too late, the uncharacteristic warmth already revealed.
He glanced over at his wife, but she hadn't said anything, participating in the conversation as if nothing was amiss.
But then, she always had the tendency to ignore what she wasn't willing to see.
He knew Sakshi held the same fears as him, that Arnav and Khushi's differences would create an abyss to deep to breach. She had pushed all thoughts of Arnav and Khushi being together out of her mind.
What would she say if she knew?
He knew she was aware Arnav wanted to go back to England, and knew Khushi would never want to move there. It was odd how the situation was reversed, he mused, since Sakshi was usually the emotionally connected one, and he the uncompromising logic.
But this time, he was allowing himself to believe in this, despite his fears, and she...
He paused for a moment, worry creeping up inside of him as he considered the possibilities, the logic unrelentingly forcing him to confront it.
If he had proposed, then had he told Khushi about his job?
Ashok studied them, trying to determine whether he had. He thought carefully for a moment before he spoke, worried his words would set off an avalanche that he wouldn't be able to stop.
He waited until there was a lull in the conversation before speaking, keeping his voice light, laced with a hint of nostalgia.
"It's so lonely without Anjali... and soon, Khushi will be gone too, and..."
Ashok fixed an unwavering gaze on Arnav as he spoke, watching his reaction carefully.
"And Arnav won't be here either."
He didn't miss the nearly imperceptible tick in Arnav's jaw as his words sank in, the way Arnav's eyes darted to a determinedly inscrutable Khushi.
There was a long, tense silence as Arnav and Khushi stared at each other, each one holding their breath. He saw the worry creep into Arnav's eyes as he wordlessly tried to get Khushi's mask to crack, but he didn't relax when she sent him a faint smile that didn't reach her eyes, remaining stiffly in position.
So he hadn't told her.
Ashok leaned back in his chair, the worry that had crept up became stronger as he looked between his two children. Dread joined the worry as he realized that this wouldn't be easy for them, not at all. He wished he could shield them from this all, berating himself for encouraging it, for letting it get this far.
If he had stepped in, would he have been able to change anything?
He didn't know.
*********
She took the stairs two by two, but her heart wasn't racing because of the exertion. The tension clawed insistently at her, Arnav's silence from earlier ringing ominously in her mind.
He hadn't negated Ashok's statement about him leaving.
He hadn't said no.
Arnav's entire body had stiffened as he had immediately glanced at her, looking away quickly. She hadn't been able to shake that look off, the distinctly clear feeling that he hadn't intended for her to hear those words just yet.
"And Arnav won't be here either."
She glimpsed him sitting at the edge of the terrace as he had been so many times before, waiting for. His back straightened at the sound of her soft footsteps coming towards him, a heavy sense of anticipation lingering in the air.
She sat down next to him, kicking her feet over the edge, dangling them next to his. Her pinky touched his, their bodies separated but for this one, fragile connection between their two smallest fingers.
They waited in a full silence, the cool night air slowly moving over them. Khushi's fingers curled around the stones at the edge of the terrace, trying to keep the shiver in as the goosebumps appeared on her arm, her hair sticking straight up.
She took a deep breath, letting it out inaudibly, trying not to break the delicate air that seemed as if it would fracture if she made a sound.
She glanced over at Arnav, staring at his side profile. She could see the tautness of his jaw, his knuckles almost white as he gripped the edge of the terrace just as she was.
There was no missing the tension wrought throughout his body, the way his brow was furrowed in a rare show of restlessness. She could see him struggling in the low sound of frustration that came from his throat, his mouth twisted in irritation.
She slipped her hand over his, gently rubbing the whitened knuckles. He looked down at her wearily, the lines etched deep in his face. She reached up, running her hand down one as she traced over it, watching as his eyes closed.
She pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth, drawing her hand down the side of his face, feeling the rough stubble pull against her skin. Smiling, she adjusted his glasses, her hand stopping at the side of his ear when he pinned her with a dark gaze.
She gave herself to his touch, sighing in pleasure when his lips swooped down to take hers in a deep kiss. She felt reckless, sitting on the edge as he kissed her, her heart pounding as he set her aflame with the touch of his mouth.
He forcibly pulled himself away, knowing he wouldn't stop if he continued to kiss her. He groaned in displeasure, pressing a last, lingering kiss to her parted lips, silencing the annoyed whine from her.
They sat in comfortable silence, his fingers playing with hers. Their bodies seemed to fit together, her head fitting perfectly against his shoulder.
The silence grew long, each one of them lost within their own thoughts. She looked up at him apprehensively, the questions playing over and over in her mind.
She prepared herself, practicing the words silently on the tip of her tongue. She was oddly nervous, a mixture of emotions pooling in her stomach as she considered them.
"What is your dream?"
He started, turning to her sharply. He studied her, wondering why she was asking this question so out of the blue, but found nothing but earnest curiosity in her eyes. It seemed oddly out of place today, breaking the heavy silence with something so light.
She shrugged, giving him a wry smile.
I had to break it with something, didn't I?
He turned away silently, not answering her question. He could feel the answer hovering on his tongue, familiar and easy, the words forming on his lips. It had been what he had wanted since he was fifteen, and now, it was within his reach, his fingers grasping it.
England. Success.
But something stopped him from saying them. The words sounded untruthful, hollow to his mind.
It unsettled him, this new feeling of uncertainty. He wasn't supposed to feel this way about this, not about something he had always been so certain of.
What had changed? Why wasn't he able to say the words? Why did it suddenly seem as if his dreams weren't the correct dreams any longer?
He had always wanted this. He knew he had.
So why was he so uncertain?
"It's England, isn't it?"
Her soft voice, tinged with a hint of melancholy made his throat tighten. The words didn't sound right coming from her, making the restlessness discomfort worse.
He didn't like the way that sounded.
Why?
"You... you want to go to England, make a name for yourself. That's always been your dream, hasn't it?"
Yes. The word should have come easily to him, a confirmation to what she was saying to him, continuing in that halting, resigned voice.
But he found didn't want to confirm it. He fought with himself, trying to tell himself that she was right, that all he had to do was nod, say yes, confirm it somehow.
But he couldn't.
Damn it, why was he so uncertain of this?
"That's your dream, isn't it?"
She persisted, her voice oddly empty.
"To go to England, be successful?"
"Yes."
He forced the words out, his heart screaming as his mind won. He heaved a sigh of relief, but didn't feel it, his heart still tight and aching.
He saw her face fall, and he felt the piercing stab. He looked away, staring up at the twinkling stars, unable to look her in the eye.
"Is it necessary that you go to England to be... successful?"
"Yes."
He said shortly, still not meeting her gaze. He could feel her pain in the long silence, the way she seemed to shrink away from him. He slid his hand over hers, keeping it determinedly in place, close to him. Her fingers tensed underneath his, and he looked over to see her staring at him through pained eyes, a sad smile on her face.
He wished he could pull her into his arms and take it away, but he couldn't.
It would be better for them.
England was a much safer place to have a family. The broken system of India wasn't good enough, not for her, not for their family. There would be no under the table bribery just to get his kid into school, no deep class divides that split an entire nation into a million pieces that didn't quite fit together.
He had dreamed of this for too long, wanted it for too long to give up now.
"It's a better place, Khushi. I'll be more successful there, much more successful than I could ever be... here."
"You can make success wherever you go. The place doesn't determine your success, you do."
"Yes, but it is much easier to make your own success in some places."
"Can't you do the same here? Doesn't family make success too?"
There was a pause, and he searched her eyes. There was almost a pleading note to her voice, begging him to consider staying here, in India as if-
Did she know the whole truth?
The thought made him feel cold, his stomach tightening until it hurt to breathe.
"No, Khushi, it's not... it's not that easy. I could never reach the same heights, never end up where I dream of being."
She scoffed, her voice laced with hurt and anger.
"No, you just don't want to see it in this country, because you're so blinded by the glitter of them."
The disgusted accusation in her tone infuriated him, and he struggled to keep his anger in check, his voice deadly low.
"If I am blinded by them, then you are just as blinded by this place."
He felt her stiffen, her eyes flashing angrily as they stared at each other. She gritted her teeth, determined not to lose control of herself. Taking a deep breath, she nodded curtly, concentrating on the slowly dimming fury within her. She felt him slowly back away as well, shifting uncomfortably in his spot.
They were sitting on the edge, neither willing to push the other further. They didn't want to discuss it now, preferring to put it off for yet another day.
Instead, they turned back to stare out at the dark shadows that loomed in front of them.
Continued in next post.
"Another allied victory in North Africa. England is doing well."
Ashok looked up at Arnav's pronouncement, marked with obvious pride. Sakshi had gone out to a meeting with the society women, and it was only the three of them at home.
"The war will be over in no time."
Khushi looked up from her book, annoyance seeping in at his self satisfied tone. She ignored the twinge in her heart, channeling it into her carefully placed facade.
"Yes, the sooner the better. Maybe they'll feel especially generous and give India independence as a thank you for providing so many of our lives to their cause."
"Indians were not a part of the North African campaign. Hopefully, it'll be calm soon."
And I can go back.
The unsaid words lingered in the air until it was almost unbearable, heavy and insistent.
Hurt flashed across Khushi's eyes, her grip tightening on her book. The twinge grew sharper, stabbing through her at his offhandness.
He didn't even seem to care.
He had been frustratingly aloof, avoiding the topic. They had spent hours together in the garden, sometimes weeding, sometimes leaning back and just enjoying the other's company.
But whenever she tried to bring up the topic, he would distract her.
She closed her eyes, recalling the way his hands would somehow sneak around her waist as she determinedly tried to focus on her question, his lips teasing the edge of her ear, before kissing her cheek, then the edge of her lips.
Reality hit her like a cold splash of water, jolting her out.
He hadn't even asked her, not even once. He hadn't told her about the job, and if she hadn't overheard him, she wouldn't have even known.
And they were supposed to be getting married.
She felt the tears stinging her eyes, and blinked them determinedly away, steeling herself with a caustic response.
"I'm sure they will be delighted to have you back. And then I can move on with my own life, and we will all be where we want to be."
There was a tense silence before she roughly pushed herself off of the chair, stalking away. Ashok watched as Arnav gritted his teeth, throwing the newspaper on the table as he left for his room.
Ashok sighed heavily, watching the small figure in the distance, digging into the dirt. He saw a taller figure join her, sinking down beside her. He saw Arnav's hand sneak over to touch Khushi's as she looked up at him warily.
He turned away, feeling as if he was intruding.
Arnav sank down beside her and she moved slightly away, allowing him space. Their hands touched in the dirt as they dug, and she hastily shifted, avoiding eye contact.
They couldn't avoid this any longer.
Arnav felt worry creep up, goosebumps erupting on his skin. He shivered, an ominous sense of anticipation making him shift uncomfortably.
She looked pained, her eyes wary as she shrank away from him. The words seemed to bother her, her hands playing with the dirt in front of her.
She let out a slow breath through her teeth, and looked away, her voice deadly quiet when she spoke.
"What of your job offer? Weren't you going to tell me? Ask me if I want to move?
Arnav stilled, his stomach tightening until it hurt. His hands felt clammy as he stared at her, trying to put off the inevitable.
"My job offer?"
"The one that would require you to move to England."
He felt the beginnings of dread settle in his stomach, his hands cold as her words settled in. Clearing his throat, he forced himself to remain calm, knowing in the back of his mind that this would not go well.
"You heard?"
"I accidentally overheard you and Papa speaking of it."
There was a brief, tense moment before he responded, his voice kept carefully light.
"What of it?"
"Do you plan on accepting?"
"Of course. It is a wonderful opportunity."
"And what of me? What would happen to me?"
"You would come with me, of course."
He knew he had misspoken as soon as the words were out, her face blanching.
But once the words were said, there was no taking them back.
"I would come with you."
Her voice was tight, her jaw taut with tension as she stared at him disbelievingly.
"We would be married."
"And that means I have to follow you?"
"It doesn't make sense for you not to. Do you not want to come with me?"
She stared at him, struggling to control her temper. She couldn't believe his audacity, the way he stated it as if it were a fact that couldn't be contested.
"I don't want to move to England, Arnav."
He paused for a moment before responding, continuing to keep his voice light, as if he was speaking to a young child. She was infuriated that he was treating her this way, so condescendingly.
He hadn't even thought to ask her?
"We would be better off there, Khushi. It is much cleaner, much more organized and-"
"And what I want doesn't matter? This is my home, Arnavji. My home. What would happen to Ma and Papa?"
"They would come with us."
"Have you considered that they may not want to? Their daughter is here."
"Anju has Aman."
She scoffed, unable to believe her ears.
"She's still family. They won't want to leave."
"Papa loves England. He'll want to-"
"Have you even asked him? Or did you just decide this and expect us to follow along?"
He could hear the tightness in her voice, the carefully controlled anger that simmered beneath the surface. He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
"Is this about your little pastime? I'm sure there are plenty of wayward rebels in England that you can join."
She shrunk away from him, her eyes flashing with hurt and anger. He reached out to her, but she flinched, moving out of his grasp.
"Don't you understand me? Don't you know how much this means to me?"
"I don't see what the problem is, Khushi! You can find a group there too. It's not that-"
"It's not about that! I don't do this simply to rebel! It's about my passion for my country-"
"Your country? That has nothing without the British?"
"They killed my parents!"
Her voice rose to a fever pitch, broken and angry as she faced off from him, tears brimming the lids. Arnav felt his gut clench painfully, hating the sight of her pain.
"They... they killed them, Arnav! They were the ones who ordered the lathis to be used, the ones that killed my innocent father who just wanted to buy vegetables. They're in our land, using our resources, reaping the profit of our work. I will be damned if I move to that country."
Arnav's heart constricted at the sight of her anguish, and he stepped forward, pulling her into his arms. She clutched at his shirt, her tears staining the fabric as it stuck to his skin. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, allowing her to curl into him.
"Khushi, we'll... we'll be better off there, can't you see? We'll have the best doctors for Papa, we'll have a nice flat, and I can give you everything. I'll build a garden, I'll... find a bookstore, maybe we'll even have a library, with all of your favorite books."
His voice held a plea for her to listen as he leaned back, searching her eyes for a sign of acceptance. He would give her anything she wanted, if only she would let him.
He wished she could see how much happier they would be there. He could give her everything.
But all he saw was bitterness, her jaw set and resolute.
"Nahi. I won't go there. We are happy here. This is our home. Our family, our friends... everyone is here. Why would I want to leave?
Arnav felt the guilt weigh heavily as he stared at her, hurt bubbling up inside of him.
Did he not mean anything to her? She cared about the resistance, but what about him? Didn't she care about him?
"Stop being so emotional, Khushi. It's not like you being here will help anything. You will like England once you get there, I'm sure-"
She recoiled and stepped back further, the tears spilling down her cheeks. Her body trembled with hurt, stunned by his callousness. He cursed himself, wishing he could take the words back.
He reached out to touch her but she turned away, her heart heavy with grief and anger.
She knew this would happen, she had known all along.
She was so stupid.
So damned stupid.
"No. I won't like it. Did you not hear a word of what I said?"
Her voice quivered, and Arnav felt the knife twist deeper, pressing into his stomach. The sound of rushing blood was loud in his ears, drowning out his voice as he tried to call out to her.
"Khushi-"
He saw the steely determination in her eyes as she lifted her chin, her voice perfectly steady when she spoke. He could feel the cold weight of fear in his stomach, the deep feeling of loss.
The feeling of dread worsened, clawing at his stomach as he stood there, listening blankly to her words.
She had given up. No. She couldn't give up, not now, this wasn't how it was supposed to happen.
"Nahi, Arnavji. You are entitled to your opinion, as I am to mine."
She took a deep breath, her voice devoid of any emotion.
"This will not work. We have two different opinions on something very important. It will tear us apart, break us until we cannot stand the sight of each other."
"Khushi, don't do this."
She turned her gaze to him, a wry, bitter smile on her face.
"It is best that we end it here, to lessen the pain. I would like to end this on a good note, as acquaintances. Just as we should have remained."
"Khushi, no."
Arnav felt as if the breath had been taken out of him, as if someone had punched him hard. His voice was strangled, and he struggled to breathe. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, her cool, collected voice sending goosebumps crawling up his arms.
Her voice echoed in his head, a never ending loop. He clenched his hand so hard that his nails indented the skin, the emptiness in her eyes breaking him.
No. This wasn't supposed to happen like this.
"It is better this way, Arnavji. We will be happier."
Her voice softened, and for a brief moment, he saw the flicker of anguish, a glimpse of how much this was hurting her.
But it was gone as quickly as it came, her face like engraved marble.
He searched desperately for something, anything to grasp onto. His thoughts were incoherent, hope rapidly slipping away when she didn't respond.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. Not now.
He tried to say no, his mouth dry as he swallowed, trying to think up reasons for why it would work, why their love would win out.
He couldn't think of a single thing.
Instead, he nodded robotically, wanting desperately to tell her no, to convince her that it would work.
But even he knew that his words would be hollow and meaningless as they stood there, faced with a deep, plunging cliff that lacked a bridge.
"Y- yes. You're right. We... should end it here."
His voice sounded alien, his throat like sandpaper, gritty and harsh. He couldn't think beyond the quickly forming empty abyss, his stomach plummeting as he struggled to breathe.
Why wasn't he fighting for this? Why wasn't she fighting for it?
She nodded, turning around to pick up the trowels and the spades. He watched her, his mind completely blank.
There was nothing left to hold onto.
She stepped up to him, her free hand resting gently on his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, relishing the feel of her warm hand against his skin.
He looked down at her, searching her face one last time for a sign of hope, anything that would stop the agonizing heartbreak.
But all he could see was resignation, a heavy sadness as she looked up at him.
She leaned up, pressing a lingering kiss to the edge of his mouth before stepping back. Cold air washed over him, the distance between them seeming larger than ever.
He could feel his throat clog up with the sharp, painful prickles as he tried to swallow, desperate to open his mouth and cry no.
But he didn't say a word.
He heard her take a shuddering breath, blinking rapidly as the tears threatened to fall.
"It's better this way."
He didn't know if she was trying to convince him or herself. She turned to walk away, the tools clutched limply in her hands as she took another deep breath, holding back the sob that threatened to come loose.
"I love you."
His voice was broken and hoarse, cracking as he stared at her disappearing figure. He saw her freeze, not turning around.
"I know."
She whispered, her voice painfully loud in the silence of the morning. He saw her shoulders shake, and knew her eyes would be squeezed shut, the tears streaming down her face as she forced herself to put one foot in front of another.
He didn't call her back.
*********
Note: And that's- *ducks from chappals*- where I'll leave you today! I hope you enjoyed it. If you have the time, please let me know what you thought with a like or a comment!
As always, please follow @ipkchotidesi or PM me your email for update notifications.
I will try to plan for a Q&A session- hopefully, it'll be sometime tomorrow. Keep an eye on this thread, and I'll let you know the time more exactly hopefully once I know what I'm doing tomorrow in AD 😆
Love always,
Choti.
Edited by chotidesi - 9 years ago
| Topics | Author | Replies | Views | Last Post Reply |
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Arhi FF: Destiny Games T6 (Chapter 21.2 Updated 19th July)
abavi 247 90666 |
abavi | 247 | 90666 | 11 days ago Mimima |
|
⭐New⭐ Arhi FF | Iss Darr Ko Kya Naam Doon: Chapter 3 - Part 2/3
Rizz-ington 30 4459 |
Rizz-ington | 30 | 4459 | 12 days ago PeachyPisces |
