Moments (IPKKND Secret Romance #2) (aka Our Moments)

Chapter 19: Arnav

14th January

Arnav anxiously shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Khushi had been silent for more than ten minutes now.

The notes they exchanged every day had changed. They had begun as a way to tentatively explore the waters between them, to test one another's boundaries and to show each other how much they cared. As they grew closer, their notes had changed. They'd recently started asking each other for more.

Why do you like red so much, she'd asked, and he'd confessed that he hadn't had a favorite color until she'd stood in front of him in a red sari for the photo shoot. He didn't like red, he explained, he liked her in red.

What do you think of when you picture us married, he'd asked Khushi, and she'd spent an entire drive talking about it. She was excited, looking forward to living under the same roof as her sister again, looking forward to living in his home as his wife.

"May I visit Laxmi Nagar whenever I want?"

"Only if you call me Arnav in private."

"I don't need your permission," she'd claimed, "I'll just ask Nani-ji."

"I'll lock you out of the bedroom," he'd grinned.

"I'll complain to Nani-ji," she'd poked his arm, "and she'll set you straight."

"Good luck."

Tell me about Teej, she'd said, and he'd told her that he'd seen her losing her balance, that he'd felt an urgent need to protect her, that he'd run to catch her. That she'd looked so vulnerable in his arms. That he was glad he'd broken her fast. It felt preordained.

Remember the day you were sneaking up behind me and then running away, and I caught you? What were you doing, he'd asked. He'd been amused by her explanation that she was testing if her heart beat faster when she came near him. When he'd followed up – And did it beat faster? – she'd replied with one word. Always.

This morning, she'd slipped a note into the breast pocket of his jacket as he drove, flashing him a mischievous grin that made him want to kiss her for an eternity ... or two.

Show me where you kept my payal.

When she'd come upstairs to give him a cup of tea and a hug, as she always did after lunch, he'd silently taken her hand and stood her in front of the cupboard. Opening it, she'd found everything.

It felt like he was showing her the deepest part of himself. His heart pounded as he waited for her reaction.

Khushi touched the small box that contained three tiny pearls. She took the pearls out on her hand and let them roll around before placing them, and the box, back on the shelf. Next, she fiddled with the scrap from the dupatta he'd torn from his car. She opened a wooden box and found scraps of paper inside. Her resignation letter, the love-letter she'd written on behalf of Lavanya, all the notes they'd exchanged over the past few weeks. She caressed the broken red bangle when she found it, her body shuddering as she gave a tiny sob.

Arnav closed the distance between them and held her from behind.

"Are you all right?" he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Khushi nodded.

Then she held up a tiny silver key and started crying in earnest. Arnav turned her around and held her head as she cried into his chest.

"Ssshhh, what's wrong? Did I ... I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to scare you."

She pulled away with a hiccup. "You love me."

Why the hell would that make her cry?

"Ahh, yeah. Of course. I'm marrying you."

"But," Khushi looked down and then back up at him, "You've never said it."

"Should I have to?" he frowned, "Isn't it enough that I show you? Isn't it enough that I'm marrying you?"

She nodded, sniffling, but Arnav felt like he still was missing something.

"Khushi," he said slowly, "did you think that I didn't love you?"

She hesitated before pulling out the ring she wore on a necklace. "You've never said it, not even when you gave me this ring, and then we fought about it on New Year's Eve."

The strands of his anger gathered as he took a few steps away from her.

What the hell? How could she ... It's not like she's ever said it outright either. But I still know that she loves me. She shows me every time she brings me tea, every time we embrace, every time she allows me to kiss her. Khushi wouldn't let me do any of that unless ...

Oh.

She didn't have that reassurance to fall back on.

And I ... I've been avoiding telling her, thinking that she'd want some stupid filmy gesture when all she needs are the words.

Arnav returned to her and took her hand. The way she looked up at him – all soft and vulnerable - uncoiled something in his chest.

Damn, I'm an idiot.

"I thought you knew," he used two fingers to brush the hair from her face, "Khushi, I love you so much that sometimes I think I won't be able to breathe without you."

Khushi let out a breath that turned into a sob. She came easily when he pulled her closer, her hands automatically wrapping around him, and clung to him with something akin to desperation. He could feel the way his shirt twisted and stretched in her grip.

Some time later, she went back to the cupboard and took out the scrap from her dupatta.

"Even then?"

Arnav took a deep breath.

"Khushi, I think ... Sometimes I think it was always. From the first moment."

She held up the tiny silver key and gave him a small smile.

"Sometimes I think that too."