Making Her Mine- An IPKKND story.

Chapter 57 - Presents

Arnav was terrible at hiding his gloom and Khushi watched him far too closely.

She shot him probing glances, and asked him again in the car if something was wrong.

"I'm trying to solve a problem," Arnav said, finally. It wasn't a lie. He needed to figure out how to make amends for having stolen her dream.

Khushi pursed her lips in a dissatisfied way, but stopped asking him questions. He helped her carry her presents to their room, but Khushi was waylaid by Di, who told her it wasn't a party, but the family was gathered at the living area to say happy birthday to her.

Arnav handed the boxes to Om Prakash, and followed Di and Khushi.

Nani had made vermicelli kheer for the occasion. Khushi groaned about how much she had already eaten, but accepted the small bowl Nani handed her, and a fresh set of presents from his family. OP had to do a second run of ferrying the new presents to their room.

She was flushed pink when they finally made it back to their room, and she began to open her presents. Arnav stood by the window, leaning back to watch her, a small smile on his lips. Her joy was infectious.

He had put his present away from the pile to be opened last. When she finally got to it and pulled out the saree, she gasped and stared up at him. He swallowed nervously.

"If you don't like it, I'll—"

"I like it," she said.

"Er — You looked nice in that saree, so..."

She blushed.

"Happy birthday, Khushi."

She smiled. "Lavanya Ji told me once that you never said happy birthday to anyone."

"You're not just anyone."

She walked over to him, and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

"Do you want to go out for dinner? Just the two of us? I know you're not too hungry to wait today, so I don't have any emergency Chana, but—"

She grinned and nodded. "Shall I wear this?" She asked him, indicating the saree. He shook his head. "I don't think I can take you anywhere if you wear that."

She frowned.

"Wear it tomorrow."

"Where are we going tomorrow?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

"Arnav-ji!" she whined.

"Khu-shiiii!" he said, mimicking her.

She smacked his arm, and chose a different saree, pouting as she went to change. He was being honest though. He wouldn't even be able to drive them to the restaurant if she wore the red saree.

—

At dinner, Arnav struggled to appear happy, his mind still full of Khushi's wedding scrapbook. The biggest day in a girl's life. She had wanted to pick out her dresses, have a mehendi and haldi and sangeet, invite everyone she knew...

Of all the things he had done to Khushi, their wedding was the worst. He had torn her world apart by giving her the nightmarish ultimatum. Marry him for six months. At a temple, in a dress she was wearing for her sister's wedding. His black rage in place of loving glances and smiles. He had put the sindoor and mangalsutra on her like they were curses, as she shed tears. And only because he thought they would stop her from straying, religious fool that he thought she was. There had been no holy fire, no friends and family. Instead of promises to be with her for seven lifetimes, he had told her that she was to be his wife only in name— he would never give her that status in his life.

"Arnav ji?"

He came back with a start, and realized that the waiter was asking for his order.

"You pick," he said, hoping to distract her for a moment – his mind too turbulent to focus on a menu. "You're the food expert anyway."

She frowned, but began to pick something.

Khushi's teeth glinted like pearls when she smiled at the waiter, her long and elaborate order done.

On the day he had met her, she had said something about Di's marriage breaking. It was unintentional, her own sister's marriage had broken because of him. But he had let his rage overpower him, and had torn the thread that held her blouse together, scattering pearls strung on the thread all over the floor. It was the worst kind of threat. He had regretted it almost immediately, and they had never talked about it. But it was what had birthed their turbulent relationship. It was the moment that had led to all the other wrongs he had done to her.

"Arnav ji, what's wrong with you today?"

"I'm sorry, Khushi... It's nothing, I'm still trying to figure out my problem."

"But you can't tell me what the problem is?"

"Khushi, if the news says something about you, like they did in Lucknow, after— after my fashion show — will you be ok with it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know if you looked at the article about us. If there are more of those, I don't know how you'll feel."

"Oh. Because of Shyam Ji's trial? It can't be helped, Arnav ji. I saw some very mean things about me online. How I am not good enough for you. But mostly it's about how handsome and rich you are. I don't really care."

"But if there is much more of that? If they start publishing pictures of you?"

She considered this, frowning and chewing her lip.

"There's already a picture of me. I wouldn't be happy if people started to recognise me. But I don't think it will be so bad. They put pictures of Lavanya Ji on the media when you were getting engaged but most people didn't recognise her on the streets. It's not like in Lucknow. People don't recognise you so much, even though they show you on the TV and papers sometimes. You're not Salmanji level famous, Arnavji."

"What?" Arnav looked at her incredulously, and began to laugh.

Khushi smiled back, seeing his laugh.

"I mean that it will be okay, I think we can handle it," she said. "Is that what you were worried about?"

"Sort of," he said. He had a plan.
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Note: Please guess what the plan is 😉