Chapter 2: Khushi

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Khushi's hand shook as she handed over her boarding pass and newly minted passport to the customs official. She could hardly believe that Nani and Di had arranged for her to fly to London to see her husband.

The security personnel barely spared her a glance as she walked through the sensors and gates before making her way to the First Class Lounge. She sat on a plush sofa near a window, still dazed by how quickly everything had happened.

Planes, big and small, took off and landed as she watched, their bright lights blinking at her in the night like multi-colored stars.

She remembered the conversation she'd once had with Arnav-ji about their parents watching over them as stars. He'd asked her if his mother was happy, proud of the person he'd grown up to be. She'd wanted, desperately, to tell him that his mother would be proud of him, of the man he was, but she couldn't, not when she knew next to nothing about his mother. About his past.

The call for boarding startled Khushi from her reminiscing. The plush seats, rich wooden paneling, and luxurious carpeting of First Class couldn't distract Khushi from her racing thoughts. Even the screen that rose from some unseen panel in front of her failed to occupy her, and she sat in her own corner of the plane, anxiously clutching at the safety manual. Her aunt, Mami-ji, had told her to watch the safety briefing carefully, and she had, but it only fuelled her anxiety. She wished the flight were already over and she was in the safety of her husband's arms.

Khushi managed some sleep and awoke just as they were preparing to land. Twenty minutes later, she got her first glimpse of her destination: a blaze of lights and dazzling colour.

The process of getting off the plane was much the same as when she'd embarked – the friendly staff helped her every step of the way and before long she was passing through the electronic customs gates. She collected her meager luggage and passed through a number of security checks before finally reaching her destination.

She stopped when she saw a crowd of people waiting in the Arrivals area. Had Arnav-ji gotten Di's message? Would he be there to pick her up? Was he angry at her presumption, angry that she'd flown to London to see him without first telling him?

She remembered the way they'd parted at Delhi airport. When he'd turned to leave that final time she had felt her soul being ripped out of her. Until that moment she hadn't truly believed he was going – she thought his anger would disappear once she explained everything to him and that he would stay. But Shyam had never arrived and Arnav-ji had left.

Khushi missed him so much. Everything in the house had reminded her of him. It wasn't just his clothes in the closet and his files on the tables. Every room in the house held memories of him.

The kitchen, where he'd fainted and she had frantically tried to rouse him with water and then with sweets, her anxiety over him threatening to overwhelm her; where he'd seen the 'A' in her henna.

The lounge room, where he'd caught her when she had stumbled dancing with Nanhe-ji; where he'd invented a phone call to help her pick a sari of his choosing.

The guest room, where he'd cornered her after Jiji and Jija's sangeet, standing so close to her that she was sure he'd heard her heart racing.

His pool, where he'd kissed her for the first time; where he'd been a breath from kissing her at Diwali; where he'd untangled her from the fairy lights.

He was everywhere. Arnav Singh Raizada was imprinted on the surface of her skin, on her very soul, and Khushi didn't know how she was still able to breathe without him.

She knew her family must be confused, wondering why she couldn't handle a few days of separation from her husband. How could she explain to them that she'd felt they were saying a final goodbye at the airport? She'd inexplicably and irrationally felt that if she didn't convince him to stay that she would never get the chance to explain things to him again. That he would never trust her again.

A passer-by bumped into Khushi, jolting her from her thoughts. She made her way forward to the Arrivals area with tears blurring her vision. A part of her prayed that she would see him soon, while another prayed just as fervently for a delay in their meeting.

Forgive Her Anything (IPKKND AU) #Wattys2016Where stories live. Discover now