Khushi jerked back to reality as the elevator come to a stop and beeped. Her hand nervously wrapped itself around her dupatta when she heard a mechanical voice announce that she had reached the parking level at AR. She dragged herself out of the elevator as soon as the doors opened but came to a sudden stop in the middle of the parking garage. She suppressed a sob and took a deep breath, trying to locate her borrowed AR sedan among the rows of expensive cars parked across from her. Mercifully, she saw Mohan approaching her from the periphery of her vision. She sighed in relief.
"Mohan ji," she called out, putting as much weight in her voice as she could, "Can you please drive me back home? No – actually, can you take me to Laxmi Nagar?"
She saw Mohan nod before he sprinted to a white BMW parked to his right. No sooner did she wish to follow, she heard footsteps behind her. A click, her mind corrected itself, something that sounded like a pointed heel. She took a deep breath and brushed off the lone tear that threatened to burst out of her eye. She couldn't be caught a nervous wreck in the AR Garage. Not anymore, she told herself, not when she was married to Arnav.
"Whenever you are ready, Ma'am," she heard Mohan.
"Give me a minute," she said as she turned on her heels and was forced to flash a smile when she saw Lisa walk towards her, her hips moving sideways to match her delicate but poised gait.
"Khushi," Lisa chirped, "Nice to see you here again! I didn't get a chance to properly thank you at the studio – you literally saved me from ASR's wrath. If only he had heard I had delayed it."
"Not a problem," said Khushi, "I'm glad I could help. Did the rest of the shoot go well?"
"Couldn't have gone smoother after you left," she replied airily, leaning against a car next to her. But she quickly re-adjusted her posture when they heard a pair of hurried footsteps approach them, "Oh, hi ASR!" she greeted him.
"Lisa," Arnav acknowledged nonchalantly, but his concerned eyes were fixed on the woman in vivid glittering pink standing next to the supermodel he had hired. He was quick to notice her go stiff with his arrival; her eyes suddenly developed an interest in the concrete pavement of his garage. "Didn't think I'd see you here," he added for Lisa's benefit, his gaze still fixed on his wife. His eyes slightly softened as soon as he noted a hint of uncertainty and hesitation in Khushi's demeanor. She looked nervous to him; she appeared too strained to be forced into a taller posture – a position that wasn't natural about the woman he had come to know all of last year.
"Oh, I was about to head out when I ran into Khushi here," Lisa's words pulled Arnav out of his chain of thoughts, "She was a great help during the shoot today. We couldn't have done it without her."
Arnav nodded at nothing in particular, "Yes, I just heard about that. I'm not surprised; she is one of the smartest people I know."
"Arnie," she lightly tapped his shoulder and let her fingers wander around his blazer as she spoke, "You underestimate her, hon. She is fantastic," she said, enunciating each syllable.
Arnav tore his gaze from Khushi, who had been staring at the ground ever since he had joined the conversation, and stared at Lisa's hand informally resting on his shoulder. Deep within, he was relieved that Khushi did not witness Lisa's attempt at being closer to him, however casual and unpremeditated that it was. He exhaled and lightly brushed the hand off him.
"I know that about my wife, Lisa," he said as calmly as he could, trying not to pull Khushi's attention towards them. She deserved better. She did not have to see this part of his world – a world where professional and personal boundaries habitually merged and separated without a warning. A glamorous world where beauty only ran skin-deep. A world where relationships were meant to be insincere, unfaithful, and superficial. A world far removed from hers.
A world that wasn't really his; a world that never had been his, but it was.
"Oh yes!" she exclaimed, "I hear congratulations are in order. But I'm miffed you didn't throw a party to celebrate. Surely you owe this to the lovely Mrs. Raizada."
Arnav sighed, wishing he had not run into Lisa on his way down, "I'll put you on the guest list."
"I'll be waiting for that," she said, as she pulled the outstretched hand away from Arnav and straightened her bag in her hand. "After all, you host the best parties."
"Sure," Arnav let out a small chuckle that oddly sounded like a scoff. He shook his head slightly before gently pulling at Khushi's hand that was wrapped around her dupatta and laced his fingers through his. "Are you okay?" he whispered to her. When he sensed her nod, he tugged at her hand once more before he looked at Lisa. "I thought you said you were leaving?" he asked calmly.
Lisa jeered at the unceremonious dismissal in his voice. "I guess," she mumbled, "I'll see you around then Arnie, Khushi," she added before she walked towards her car at the other end of the garage. Arnav noticed Khushi's pensive eyes wistfully watching the supermodel saunter off; he watched her lips drop the smile they had been holding.
He felt a pressure around his chest when he registered the nervousness that lingered thick in the air. Arnav let out a breath and pulled Khushi into a hug as soon as Lisa was out of sight. "Where do you think you were going, Khushi?" he asked, his voice mellower than a caress.
Arnav watched her struggle to find words. He knew something about their moment in his office had bothered her. And while he couldn't point a finger at it, he realized it meant a lot to her. He had witnessed her going silent all of a sudden and then struggle to hold herself together during their brief interaction with Lisa. Something about her body language was very much unlike Khushi.
"Khushi?" he repeated when there was no response from her. She had continued to stare at her feet.
"Home," she muttered in a low voice, "I wanted to see Amma."
Something pricked Arnav when she referred to her maternal house as home, but he didn't show. "You could have told me. We could have gone together."
"No," Khushi's reply was too quick this time, "It's just something – something that I had to talk to her. And you have the meeting with Mr. Mehta. It's important. I'll go with Mohan ji."
He grimaced at the reminder of his professional commitments when all he did think about was her. He quietly gestured a waiting Mohan to leave the garage. He watched him disappear into the chauffers' lounge before he turned back to Khushi. "Let's go," he said as he pulled out his keys from his blazer and twirled them in his hands.
Khushi frowned, "No, Arnav ji, really, it's fine," she stumbled through the sentence, "Your meeting –"
"It doesn't matter. Someone else can take over. Right now, I want to be with you. It's the least I can do if you don't want to tell me what's really bothering you," he urged her to look up when he noticed her eyes now staring at a button on his shirt.
Khushi shook her head, "It's nothing, Arnav ji."
"Really? That's why you ran out of my office and want to see Garima aunty right now."
"Arnav ji – "
"Khushi, you can't lie to me. Not anymore. We are past that."
"Are we?" she snapped at his words, her eyes suddenly boring into his, "Have we really, Arnav ji? Don't you see the differences between us? Don't you realize how different our worlds are? Every time I try to move past things, realities come crashing down on me. Like when we were together – just now, it reminds me about how you were – are so different. How you interact with people is so different..." her voice trailed off.
"What?" he asked, confused. Had Khushi seen Lisa's elusive advances towards him, right here, in front of her? Couldn't be, his mind reasoned, she had been troubled for a while now.
"You – you are Arnav Singh Raizada," she continued, "People look up to you; people want to work with you. I see the respect they give you, the command you hold. Each day that we stay together, I can see the contrast between our lives. It continues to be more apparent to me. I'm sure you see it too. And who am I? A stupid, unsophisticated girl from Lucknow who can't even string two sentences together in a professional setting - I claim to be your wife? Wife? Wife of a man who could get anyone he desires – someone like Lavanya ji, Lisa, and others I don't know about? How can I, Arnav ji? Who am I?"
Arnav felt tears prick his eyes as she spoke. For a moment, he couldn't breathe as the weight of Khushi's words sunk in. "You are my world, Khushi. The moment I saw you, you became my world," he said after a brief pause, his hands cupping her cheeks.
In the moment it took him to say the words he had always known, he had decided he would do everything in his power to make Khushi believe in herself, to make her see herself, to tell her what a wonderful human being she was for as long as it took her to trust him. He knew better to see through her mask of feigning insecurities. She wasn't insecure. His heart knew she wasn't speaking out of them; she simply felt inadequate to remain with him.
She couldn't be more wrong, he told himself, it was him who was flawed. She had to know that.
"You are everything I wish I was, Khushi. Strong, but innocent. Beautiful but naïve. Resilient, independent, spirited," he told her.
"No," she protested, "You are lying – "
"I'm not lying, Khushi," he tried to reason, as he cut her across and shook his head, "I'd never. I know it's hard for you to believe me – after all, it did take me a while to realize what you meant to me. I wish – I really do wish with all my heart, that I can go back in time and undo everything that I'd done wrong with you, with us. But trust me, Khushi, with you by my side, there's nothing more I'd want in my life. When we were apart last month and I had some time to think about my life, I got to experience how life would be without you. I know for a fact that I can't live if I don't see you every day. I don't want that life."
Khushi looked at him. Her husband, who was the very definition of sophistication, suave perfection, and charm was looking back at her with his shoulders slumped and a thin veil of moisture over the beautiful caramel brown eyes. She felt as if someone has wrung her heart through a vortex. It hurt. It hurt that she was the reason the mighty tycoon looked so flaccid, dull.
"I don't want that life too, Arnav ji," she began, her voice barely audible, "But I can't see how we can be a part of this society together – one that's so divided along our financial and educational backgrounds."
"I don't think our worlds are so different," he said as simply as he could, "I know you are already aware that the man you are married to is quite an expert of putting up the facades. He just looks perfect to everyone else. But I should tell you that in reality, he is anything but. He is one broken man, Khushi."
Khushi's eyes flew to his. "Pretending someone you are not doesn't get you where you are, Arnav ji."
"Yes," he said quietly, as he pulled her closer to him. He guided her arms around his torso, silently wishing to draw some strength from her before he continued, "And no. It got me where I needed to be to feel powerful. It helped me become the ASR you said people wanted to be close to, personally and professionally."
"But it didn't change me," he said after a pause, "Tell me, if I doll you up in the most exclusive clothing and jewelry pieces from around the world, put you up in a palace somewhere, would it change who you are?"
Khushi scoffed, "Hypothetically? Because even if I could afford it –"
"I can," he stopped her, "But if it makes you feel better, then yes, hypothetically."
Khushi thought for a moment before shaking her head. "No," she told him, "I don't think so."
"Exactly," Arnav exclaimed, "The niceties you see around me allowed me to perfect being someone who people admired, it helped me be someone I never was. And all these things around me - they weren't always there. I come from nothing, Khushi. Deep down, I am still the same fourteen-year-old orphan who was thrown out of his house on the streets of Lucknow a day after a parents' death with nothing but the clothes on his back. Contrary to what you think of me, Khushi, I am as wrecked as they come."
He heard her gasp at the revelation. "Arnav – "
"Our uncle threw Di and I out of the house in the middle of the night," he signaled her to let him finish, "A family feud – a story for another time. What I want to say, Khushi, is that outward appearances can be misleading. But what you think of my world isn't what it is. Because it's you. It used to be just Di, Nani, Mami, Mama, Akash. And now it's you. My family is my world, Khushi. And you belong in it. I want – I need you to know that my world isn't complete without you. I can't stay away from you – I couldn't stay away from you even when I tried hard."
"I – "
"Oh, trust me, I did," he chuckled in spite of himself, "I tried hating you, I tried hurting you – but all it did was to add despair to my damaged, battered soul. Because you were the only person who saw through me as no one had. And despite everything we've been through, Khushi, I know that you understand me like no one ever will." Arnav felt a tear trickle down his face.
"Arnav ji, I – " Khushi choked on her words.
"Please, Khushi, let me speak," he pleaded, "I see a lot of myself in you, Khushi. Except that you are better than I am. Much better. Your love for your family, your drive to take care of them, your motivation to adapt and learn – it's enticing. It attracts me to you. I don't know how to make you believe me. But I will find a way, Khushi."
Khushi couldn't help herself from crashing into him. She wrapped her arms around him and allowed them to wander on his back, eventually making her way to his hair. "I believe you, Arnav ji," her sound came muffled against his blazer, "It's me I don't. It's me – "
"Shh," Arnav softly pulled back from the hug and held her face in between his hands. "Don't," he whispered as he let his eyes wander on her face. Her eyes were slightly puffed and red, and her plump pink lips quivered under the weight of emotions. He took a deep breath and ran a finger over her cheeks before gently stroking her lips. He watched as she inhaled and closed her eyes. His hand found to her closed eyes. He tenderly wiped away the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks before allowing himself to find a way back to her lips. And before he could control himself, he leaned in and caringly brushed his lips against her. It was not to reassure her, nor was it convincing of anything. The second came and went away. But that brief moment when their souls connected was enough. For now.
Khushi felt a shiver run down her spine; she pressed herself into Arnav further if it was possible. She continued to take deep breaths while Arnav held her close to him. Ten minutes later, she could finally feel her heartbeats slow down, matching themselves with the rhythm of her other half.
***
It was strange that after having almost left the AR Headquarters in a rush, Khushi found herself seated back at Arnav's office. Aman's hurried arrival to the parking garage and his strained face just as Arnav and her were about to leave spelled a crisis that begged to be resolved. Khushi noticed that Aman did heave a huge sigh of relief to find Arnav still on the premises; it seemed that Mr. Mehta clearly wasn't pleased to not find ASR at the meeting. It had been a couple of hours since Arnav was pulled into the conference room after her repeated assurances that she'll be okay and that she will wait for him to be done and that he shouldn't worry.
If it was any other time, Khushi would have yawned out of boredom, forced to sit in Arnav's office while he was at work. Better, she wouldn't have stayed back for him to come back.
Today, however, was different.
Khushi sank deeper into the plush leather couch, lazily flipping through one of the books she had piled on Arnav's desk earlier that evening. Not surprisingly, her mind remained on the events of the past few hours. Her insecurities at being inadequate to stand beside Arnav as his wife suddenly seemed insignificant in light of his revelations about his past.
Never in a thousand years would she have thought of him having grown up with a difficult adolescence. With the way the Raizadas carried themselves, she always assumed Arnav was born among the royalty and was raised around the who's-who of Delhi. Not that she hadn't seen traces of pain flash in his expressive eyes at times – there had been moments when he seemed so vulnerable that it had shaken her for days at a time. And during every single one of those times, her heart had ached for him when she had witnessed the helpless, defenseless Arnav. Those were times when she wanted nothing but to take Arnav away from the world and hide him with her. She had surprised herself; she didn't know why she felt protective of a man who didn't need her protection. It was almost comical. She remembered having laughed and scoffed at herself for such thoughts.
Nonetheless, over time, she had accepted that it was that him – the real him – that she had fallen in love with and that she wanted to shield him from anything that can harm him. She had always known that. But she never understood why.
He had told her time and again that the world was callous, heartless; and she had dismissed his pessimism without regard every single time. She was clear that she did not share his bleak outlook. Because she knew she wouldn't let him be hurt.
And because she had believed that her life had been difficult and that she had been optimistic to make the best of it. Not him. He had it easy.
Now she knew how wrong she was.
"Hello? Earth to Mrs. Raizada!" Payal's teasing voice startled her. Khushi looked up from the book she had been staring at, startled. "Khushi, I've been calling you a while!"
"Jiji?" asked Khushi, surprised, "What are you doing at AR?"
Payal walked towards the couch. "Oh, I got dinner for Akash. We haven't had a chance to eat dinner together in a while, so I thought I'd bring something before the big meeting. I didn't know you were here too; I could have come sooner – better, the four of us could have eaten together. Catch up, you know," she told her cheerfully.
Khushi tried to curve her lips to a smile but failed. "I'm sorry, Jiji."
"What for?"
Khushi sighed, "It's because of me, isn't it? Everything that happened with Shyam ji, Arnav ji being away from the family, you not being able to spend time with Jija ji, Di – "
"Stop it right there, Khushi," Payal cut her across, "Don't you dare blame yourself for any of that!"
"But it's true, isn't it?"
"Says who? You?" Payal frowned at her younger sister, "How thoughtful of you, Khushi!" she retorted.
Khushi took a deep breath before she spoke, "Jiji, do you ever think we were wrong in hiding Shyam ji's real face from the Raizadas?"
"It's easy to speculate in retrospect, isn't it?"
"But – "
"What would have changed, Khushi?" Payal asked, as she pulled a chair to sit across from Khushi, "Akash would have still married me. You would have married Arnav ji -"
"I don't think so," said Khushi, "I wouldn't be married to Arnav ji. He wouldn't have married me after knowing that Shyam was smitten by me."
"That's where you are wrong," Payal shook her head, "He loves you. It's so obvious. You know that."
Khushi shrugged, "It would have been different, Jiji. At the very least, he wouldn't have gotten himself kidnapped because of that vile man."
"And?"
"Isn't that enough of a reason, Jiji? He would have been safe – he wouldn't have to suffer all those days, alone and cuffed up, hungry..."
"Khushi?"
"When I think about it, Jiji, it hurts so much," she looked down at the floor, her voice quivered, "To think of what he must have been through - "
"You found him on time, Khushi," said Payal, "You got him back home safely, didn't you?"
"But what if I'd failed, Jiji?"
"You didn't, Khushi," Payal stressed her words, "The fact is that you didn't fail. Arnav ji is safe. He is here, with you."
Khushi grimaced. "I liked our life in Lucknow, Jiji," Khushi spoke softly, "Ever since we came to Delhi, things hadn't been easy."
Payal smiled. She knew that, of course she did. But that hadn't bothered her in a while. Because amidst the chaos, they had found someone with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. If Khushi had forgotten, she needed to be reminded of that. "Maybe," she said, "But we are happy now, Khushi, aren't we? If we hadn't come to Delhi, we would have never known the two wonderful cousins we are now married to. Or the family we are fortunate to call ours. We would have never grown out of our shells. And you, Mrs. Raizada, wouldn't be sitting in ASR's office reading – oh, what's this – whoa, Introduction to Microeconomics," Payal cried out in disbelief, taking the book away from her sister.
Khushi couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction to the book. "Jiji!"
"Since when are you reading microeconomics? I thought you enjoyed molecular gastronomy or something? Isn't that what you said it was called?"
"Yes," Khushi nodded, "I still do. But Arnav ji has a ton of books on business. So, I figured I'll give these a shot."
Payal looked at her in disbelief. "Wow. You must really love Arnav ji," she teased.
A muted knock on the door distracted Khushi from her cheeky reply to her sister's playful teasing. She turned her head to saw Manju from the AR Cafeteria holding a tray with a cup of tea.
"ASR asked to get you a cup of tea, Khushi Ma'am," Manju told her, "He said they are almost done with the meeting. Meanwhile, would you like me to get you anything, Payal Ma'am?"
Payal gestured to Manju that she would be fine before turning to Khushi. "Oh, how thoughtful of him, isn't it?" Payal chirped, "There's a proof he loves you too, Khushi. He must – to make sure you stay caffeinated at all times."
"Jiji!"
Payal couldn't help but smile at the red hue that crawled up Khushi's cheeks as she accepted the tea from Manju. "Pagli," she mumbled to herself.
***
Author's Note:
This extra-long chapter is dedicated to all my readers! You guys mean so much to me!
And oh well, you all deserve an apology from me for being MIA for about 2 months. I'm so so so very sorry - it was never planned to delay this chapter as much as I have, but I just couldn't find time to sit down and write a fiction. Unfortunately, with the way things are at work, I can't promise regular updates at this time either, but trust me, I want to complete this story and I will sooner than later.
To those who have found Retrouvaille during my absence, welcome aboard. I am truly grateful to have you as a reader and I love reading your occasional comments.
To my readers who have been with me since the beginning, thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you would like to stick around until I wrap this story, I promise to do my best not to disappoint all of you!
I will try to update Achilles' Heels this weekend. So look out for that.
As usual, please let me know if you enjoyed reading this chapter by hitting vote and dropping a comment. I truly appreciate it.
I'll be back soon!
Lots of love and take care,
Pearl