At Last (IPKKND Secret Romance #4)

Chapter 2: Galaxy

"Uhh, Khushi," he began as she was taking off the first of her three necklaces, "what's the milk for?"

"Milk?" she asked absently, watching him in the mirror.

Arnav-ji pointed to the glass of milk he'd placed on the table. "Di gave me a glass of milk."

Khushi blushed. "It's ... it's for you."

"Why?" his brow furrowed as he stared at the glass.

Oh Devi Maiyya. How do I explain?

"You should drink it," she avoided his eyes and busied herself by taking off both her dupattas. Every time she thought she'd gotten all the pins that held them in place, she found another one.

Arnav-ji looked at her, a smile playing on his lips. "You're not going to tell me?"

Feeling ten times lighter without her jewellery, Khushi ignored him and walked to the bathroom. She'd never been inside it, and was surprised to find that it was decorated tastefully in blues and whites. Blue tiles, white vanity, blue mats and white towels. Arnav-ji's voice came from the bedroom.

"Khushi, I emptied a shelf in there for you, and bought some toiletries for you to use."

She smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. His laughter rang out as she unzipped her blouse, and she cracked open the door to peek out. He was reading something on his phone. Khushi guessed that he'd found out about the milk.

Milk with crushed almonds, for virility and stamina. An aphrodisiac.

Khushi blushed as she pushed the door closed again.

A wave of melancholy hit her as she entered the shower and stood under the spray of water. He'd filled a shelf with shower gel, shampoo and conditioner just for her.

It seemed like such a silly thing but she suddenly missed the toiletries she had grown up using. Everything, from the pressure of the water to the scent of the soap, felt foreign. When people talked about marriage, they talked about getting along with in-laws, a husband's duties, a wife's responsibilities. No one had warned her about the feeling of displacement, that she'd have to leave everything that was familiar to her, not only her family, her room, and her bed, but also the things she used every day.

But Arnav-ji said that we'll work everything out together. I'll ask him if we can buy the things I usually use. And Jiji will help.

When she was finished, Khushi dried her hair as best she could and returned to the bedroom. Arnav-ji was searching through his wardrobe with a towel draped over his shoulder. He'd taken off the blue sherwani and rolled up the sleeves of the cream and gold kurta that went underneath it. He smiled as he approached her, a change of clothes bundled in his hands.

"I'm going to shower and change. Uhhh ... Oh yeah. If you want to unpack your things, you can put them anywhere in the closet. I don't mind. It's mostly empty, except for these two drawers here."

He gestured, making sure she understood, before disappearing into the bathroom. But he returned not ten seconds later, slipping one hand around her waist and threading the other into her damp hair.

"I can't believe you're here. I keep expecting you to disappear."

She giggled. "No, I'm here. Forever. For seven lifetimes."

He kissed her softly before returning to the bathroom. Khushi stood uncertainly, looking around the room with trepidation.

Maybe I'll unpack like he said.

She found spare hangers inside the wardrobe and started to hang up her clothes. A thrill went through her when she saw her things hanging beside his, the brightness of her kameezes and saris contrasting beautifully with dark shades of his suits and shirts. She arranged her things into the drawers, blushing at the thought of him finding them there, and then paused as she considered the two drawers he'd pointed to. Her hand reached for the topmost one, almost of its own volition. She opened it slowly, gasped, squeezed her eyes shut and slammed the drawer closed.

Underclothes.

The water shut off.

Oh Devi Maiyya, please protect me. I'll never open his drawers again.

Khushi cringed as the bathroom door opened, and her blush intensified as he came up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder as he assessed her progress. Droplets of water fell from his hair onto her shoulder and neck, sliding into her clothes. She shivered.

"Looks good, Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada."

It sounded perfect - his name attached to hers. She turned and embraced him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing as close as she dared. They stayed like that, gently swaying to some unheard music, until he broke their silence.

"I have a surprise for you. Do you want to see it now?"

"Yes!" she looked around, trying to see if he'd hidden something for her in the room, "What surprise?"

Arnav-ji led her to the bed, where he lay back on the pillows and indicated for her to do the same. She hesitated for a second before lying beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. They were plunged into a sudden darkness when he pressed a button on the remote he held. Panic, raw and visceral, gripped Khushi for a beat, but then his words came back to her - Nothing is going to happen, here or in any other part of our married life, unless we both want it. She relaxed.

"I know you slept with stars hanging above your bed," he began, his voice soft and warm in the darkness, "I know this isn't the same, but I hope you like it."

She felt Arnav-ji shift slightly and her pulse raced at the movement, but a light on the ceiling quickly distracted her. A universe flourished into being as she watched, stars and galaxies wheeling overhead. She flew through bands of stars, through clouds of shimmering gas, and then came to a stop at the edge of a galaxy. Three stars moved into the foreground and brightened.

"That one is your Amma," he pointed to the right-most star, "and that one next to it is your Babu-ji. And that ... that's my Mamma."

"Thank you," a small sob escaped her.

"I know it's not what you imagined, but I thought that, this way, you can see them whenever you want ..."

"No," Khushi held him tightly, "it's perfect."

He used two fingers to lift her face to his and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her lips.

"There's one more reason I prefer this to the stars hanging from the ceiling," he confessed, banishing the projection with a press of a button, "I can't do this with our mothers watching."

He flipped them around and pressed her into the mattress, kissing her long and deep.

She laughed as he pulled back. "No, I guess you can't."

Chuckling, he bestowed another kiss, tangling his legs with hers. It felt both unfamiliar and thrilling.

"It's been two days since I heard you laugh," he traced her eyelids with a gentle finger.

Their families had been vigilant since their haldi; their phones had been confiscated and his car keys had disappeared for hours on end. Now they made up for it, sharing stories and swapping anecdotes between long, slow kisses and experimental touches. He inspected her henna with his lips as she told him how Bua-ji had gotten tangled in a string of marigolds. She slid her hand across his chest, entertaining scandalous ideas about the skin underneath, as he complained about Nani-ji's insistence on decorating his car with pink flowers.

He paused, a smile playing on his lips as he took her hand and guided it under his shirt. She snatched it away with a gasp, and turned into one big blush at his audacity.

"Ssshhh," he soothed, and continued his story as if nothing had happened.

Her long day slowly took its toll - waking before dawn for a prayer and fasting until the end of the ceremony - and her eyes felt heavy. She fell asleep in the middle of one of his stories and barely felt the soft press of his lips at her temple as he whispered good night.