Making Her Mine- An IPKKND story.

Chapter 5 - Revelation

Arnav wasn't planning to sleep before Khushi returned to their room tonight. She had to return to him, in the end. And he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of having evaded him all day.

So he sat and waited, well past ten. That's when he usually went to bed, as she very well knew. Months of sleeping on the recliner had been torture, really. And Khushi thought she had it bad, stretched out on his comfortable bed every night.

Khushi wore grubby old cotton salwar suits to bed. She would roll her hair into a bundle, put it to one side, and take off those giant earrings she often wore. Out of the sparkly bright clothes she insisted on wearing daily, she looked ethereal in her faded bedtime salwars. Bare, without her earrings, the skin beneath her ear and her long neck a wide expanse... Arnav had to forcefully stop this track of thought. He flung his file at the table, exasperated at himself. It slid off the smooth surface of the table and landed on the floor, just as Khushi entered.

She gave him a look that clearly said, I don't know what's your problem, and I don't care, and headed straight for the wardrobe.

"I need to talk to you."

She froze, her white salwar set in her hands. His favorite. Why did he even have a favorite?

"Shyam," Arnav said, before he lost his will and gave in to weakness—his fear of confirming the worst. He needed to know what they meant to do, if they had resolved their fight. If they were planning to run away, or— "I saw you and him, holding hands, last evening."

"You s-saw??" Her voice betrayed not just shock or fear, but anger. He was startled to see she had tears in her eyes.

"Y—" he began, but she cut him off.

"You saw?" Khushi's voice had risen now, her anger unmistakable. "Then why did you let him do that to me?"

"I—what?"

"He grabbed me like that, and you didn't do anything. No, you took it out on me. You turned around and instead of blaming him, you blamed me!"

"What?"

She was breathing hard, and he could see that she was struggling to rein in her temper. God, she was like a blaze of fire when she got properly angry. But unlike him, she could control it. He saw the embers of her rage in her eyes, even as she breathed deeply.

"Arnav-ji," she said in a different voice after several deep breaths. As always, he felt a little pang and a little thrill when she said his name. "Arnav-ji. This will come as a shock to you—but—but—Sh-Shyam-ji is not a good person."

He stared at her, puzzled. She took another deep breath and continued.

"He—he's unfaithful to Di. He—he doesn't love her, he doesn't respect her. He is a horrible, disgusting man."

What was this? A new trick? "Oh, really?" Arnav said, a cool edge to his voice. "So who does he love, then? You?"

Khushi flinched at this. "You saw him last night," she said, and Arnav could see it was taking everything for her to continue speaking.

"He—he has been harassing me for months and months—since the wedding... even before, in fact, I just refused to see..." and then she broke down.

Khushi sat on the bed, crying hard. Arnav couldn't help it. He went to her and held her by the shoulders. She clung to him, weeping copiously into his chest, the way she had done at the hospital, after her Babuji had gotten that sudden stroke. And that time when she had rushed into him, making him drop the teacup in his hands, shattering it to pieces. That day when she had rushed off from the puja looking stricken and disappeared for hours while he had almost lost his mind worrying about her. Her fiancé had done something to her, but she had refused to tell him what.