One Day At A Time

Chapter Thirty Six - Point of Return

When Shaila opened her apartment's front door to her that late afternoon, Khushi wasn't ready to witness the scene playing out in the living room. Most of the furniture had been pushed up against the wall, and the fierce rays of the sun piercing through the wide-open French windows had created a spotlight in the centre of the room. And basking in the spotlight were the two Chauhan brothers, in the middle of a set of sit-ups, monitored by their father who seemed to be keeping the count for them. The grumpy face of Kabir wearing a thin vest and shorts made her lips curl, but watching Arnav in action clad just in sports shorts was a jolt to her senses. Her first instinct had been to turn around and run out of the house. But Shaila had managed to grab her waist in that one moment of indecisiveness to drag her towards the kitchen.

"Twenty-six." Khushi heard Shekhar count behind her.

"Pa, it's twenty-eight!" Kabir flashed at him in exasperation, half his breath hung in his chest and half in his nose. "And this is the last set. I am so done."

Arnav grinned. "One more. Come on, Kabirey!"

"No!" Kabir shrieked. "I am going to pass out now."

Shekhar laughed as Kabir heaved himself off the floor and rushed towards his bedroom, forcing Khushi to stop in her tracks to avoid a collision. Arnav, however, carried on, and she had to drag her eyes away from him and head towards the kitchen. Because it was too embarrassing and awkward to watch him. In fact, it was more than that. It was disturbing. It had been a very long time since she had seen him like this and realised, time had only improved him. His chest had broadened and was now spattered with a shadow of light hair that glowed in the golden light. His shoulders were broader, and his arms muscular and sinewy. Her mouth dried up at the sight of him, and she looked away quickly. Heart pounding in her chest, she entered the kitchen in a daze and almost dropped the bowl of kheer she had been holding in her hands.

"I had come to give this." She placed the bowl on the table. "I'll be back later, Kaki." She said quickly and turned to leave, but Shaila stopped her.

"Khushu, have tea with us. I am making your favourite samosas."

"I have to go, Kaki. I'll come—"

"Maar khaayegi ab! You haven't spent a moment with me since you've come back! You seem to be running away with excuses all the time. What is going on?" She reprimanded her with a frown.

"Kya, Kaaki! Why would I run away from you?" Khushi groaned as she walked up behind her and circled her arms around her waist. "Hato. Now that I am here, I might as well help you. I know your whole intention of dragging me inside was to make me slog in your kitchen. It's been a while anyway."

"Shaitaan!" Shaila smiled, looking at her with tired eyes and eagerly handed over the slotted spoon to her and started getting things ready to serve tea while firing questions about her stay in the US.

Khushi felt odd to be in the kitchen again. As if the last time she had been in this room had been in some other lifetime. Memories of stolen kisses and winks, suppressed laughs and swallowed giggles resurfaced from the deep recesses of her heart and made it difficult for her to swallow against the thickness that was suddenly clogging her throat.

"Arnav beta, did you take your blood pressure tablet in the morning?"

Shaila's words struck like lightning at Khushi's heart, and her hands froze mid-air. She whipped her head towards Kaki, and all thoughts in her mind came to a complete standstill watching Shaila hold the strip of tablets in her hand and put it aside in a tray.

"Yes, Ma." Arnav shouted from somewhere in the house after a long drawn silence.

Khushi felt a tightness pull around her chest as she started frying the samosas like a manic machine. Fear. A chill of unknown fear gripped her heart as Shaila's question rang in her ears over and over again. Her mind was battling a storm of thoughts, and it took her a minute to realise Shaila had stepped out of the kitchen, and Arnav had walked in. She had no clue how long he had been standing at the door. Had he seen her tremble? Had he watched her breaths shivering out of her lungs? Had he seen her —