Poles Apart

Chapter Sixty-Five

Arvi

"Arjun," I whisper, rolling over onto my front. "I need to talk to you about something."

Arjun looks at me, his eyes drowsy with sleep after a tiring day. "You want to do it now?" he asks, shuffling so that he can face me.

"Are you too tired?" I ask him, pushing his hair off his forehead.

"Always have enough energy to listen to you," he grins cutely, giving me an air kiss.

I chuckle at his response. "It's serious stuff, though. So I might just ask you later, if that works better?"

"If it's serious stuff—" he pulls me closer to himself— "let's finish talking about it before we sleep, and you can get a goodnight's sleep."

I cup Arjun's cheek to give him a kiss, touched by his thoughtfulness. "I love you," I whisper to him, cuddling into his side.

"I love you, too," he replies.

Then, silence descends upon the room as I think of ways to bring up what's on my mind and how to put it, without raising any concerns or anxieties.

"Take your time," Arjun whispers. "But know that you don't have to say the right thing. Okay? Don't stress yourself. Say what you want to, and we'll talk about it."

Arjun sets my heart at ease, effectively creating a safe space for me that would let me express my thoughts without facing any judgement or criticism.

"I think I want to go for therapy," I tell him.

"And?" He prods, as if expecting there to be more to it.

"And..." I stretch it out, not knowing what to say. "I was just— I don't know? I thought you needed to know."

"You know you don't need my permission to go to therapy, don't you?" he teases.

"Who do you think you are, to give me permission to do anything?" I tease back, pinching his cheek.

Arjun laughs, pushing my hand away from his face and intertwining it with his. "Haven't you heard, your husband's—"

"Equivalent to god," I complete for him. "I thought we agreed you were the devil's counterpart?"

"Uh-huh," he hums into my neck. "And what does that make you?"

"Janaki Arvi Ravichander, businesswoman, philanthropist, economist, the devil's wife?"

Arjun shakes his head in the crook of my neck, causing his hair to tickle me as he chuckles. "Have you ever thought about it? Your name's acronym would be 'jar'. Like a cookie jar? Quite apt, I'd say, given your sweet tooth."

I've heard the acronym quite a bit, of course, but never what followed. A cookie jar? "Maybe like a pickle jar," I humour him. "Spicy?"

"And hot," he agrees, biting my neck.

I cover his mouth with my hand. "Do you know how long it takes to cover all these hickeys you leave on me, like it's nobody's business? And I'll have to find clothes to cover the others too."

"Or," Arjun suggests, "you could leave them out in the open and let them breathe a little."

"Oh, god no," I reject the idea, shuddering at the thought of it. "I've teased every other woman in my life too much about it to be making myself prey to it."

"Karma is a thing," he educates me.

"Don't I know it," I groan.

"Janaki, have you ever thought about changing your name?" Arjun asks, out of nowhere. "You could call yourself Janaki Arvi Arjun whatever."