Shorts: An IPKKND Collection

A Moment of Unravelling: Part 2

Arnav

Arnav watched as Khushi pulled a bottle out of the bag her Bua-ji had delivered and ran the contents through her hair. Something about the sight nagged at him, but he couldn't identify it, and then he was distracted by the jasmine fragrance that wafted through the open door as she worked.

Her hair. The scent is in her hair.

Feeling as though he'd solved some great mystery, Arnav leaned into the sofa and turned to the file he was reading.

Pretending to read.

His mind wasn't interested in the latest stock reports of a rival company, not when she sat mere feet away on the outdoor lounge, her silken hair fanned across her shoulders and back. His fingers itched to tangle in it, to test if his memory did it justice.

Arnav closed his eyes, cursing the part of him that still wanted her. The part of him that still loved her.

The day had started badly, with her Bua-ji's refusal to take her home for that stupid ritual, and had only gotten worse. Her brief disappearance, his worry and panic, all those missed calls. And when he'd found her hiding in the temple crowd, doing her best to avoid him, he'd channeled all the tumult inside him into anger.

Why is she so frustrating? I hate her.

Or at least, he wanted to hate her so badly that it felt like the same thing. But he knew it wasn't, even as he'd shouted the words at her two nights ago. And she, in that brutally honest way of hers, had declared him unworthy of love.

It shouldn't have hurt. But this woman, this girl from Lucknow who'd never backed down from any challenge, had made him feel worthy. It was a brief, bright thing, a magnesium spark in the darkness, but it had felt real, and he'd given in completely.

Maybe that's what I can't forgive. Not that she betrayed me, but that I allowed myself to believe that she wouldn't.

Arnav threw the file onto the table and turned to his laptop. The backlog of emails that waited for him was a welcome distraction – contracts to approve, plans to execute, designs to implement.

He'd been weak today. Only for a moment but it'd been long enough for him to slip and reveal that she'd hurt him. Her eyes had been wide and her voice soft as she'd asked for an explanation, acting as though she couldn't fathom a world where she could hurt him so much.She doesn't know, a part of him argued, she's clueless, but the louder, pragmatic part of him had echoed Shyam's words. Now the only thing that stands in our way is Rani Sahiba.

His rage returned, a red tide he was barely in control of at the best of times. And now when he saw her, sitting on that chair and fiddling with her hair, he wondered if she knew how effective her seduction was. She'd always known, hadn't she, how to trap him with just a flick of her eyes and the briefest of touches. Even now, his body reacted to the sight of her hair splayed across the swell of her, her lips parted slightly. His blood warmed, his desire whispered soft encouragements – touch her, taste her, take her.

Arnav watched out of the corner of his eye as she packed away her things and came through the open doors. Khushi went straight to the bathroom; a yellow towel and change of clothes bundled in her arms, and locked the door behind her. His mind filled in the silence – her clothes sliding off her, her hair cascading down her bare back, her hand reaching for the tap – before he heard the shower run.

Goddamn it. I have to get away from her.

Then he was at the poolside, desperately trying to lose himself in his plants. They were usually a source of solace, a calming influence, but tonight they were in danger of being destroyed as his hands trembled and his breath came in ragged gasps.