At Last (IPKKND Secret Romance #4)

Chapter 3: Toast

Khushi's eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling. Her pulse raced until she recognised where she was. His bedroom – their bedroom, she quickly corrected – was bright with the sunlight that streamed through a gap in the curtains.

She turned her head to look at him. Her husband. Arnav-ji was vulnerable and unguarded in sleep, in a way he never was in his waking moments. Khushi shifted so she could see him better and stilled at the soft noise of protest that came from somewhere deep inside him. The arm that was wrapped around her tightened as he pulled her closer in his sleep, mumbling her name. She placed her hand over his at her waist before allowing her fingers to trail lightly up his arm, across his shoulder, and up to his face. She caressed the soft skin under his eye, stroked his brow, and then ran her fingers through his hair.

Finally, he was hers.

Arnav-ji woke slowly, squinting and blinking before giving her a smile. "Am I dreaming?"

"I was just thinking the same thing," she smiled back, "If we're dreaming, then let's never wake up."

He seemed to like that; he grinned as he rolled them around so she was lying on his chest. They talked and laughed and teased until his phone buzzed with an alarm.

"Jogging," he explained, stretching to retrieve his phone from the table.

Arnav-ji slid out of the bed and padded to the bathroom. She heard the buzz of an electric toothbrush, followed by the deeper drone of a shaver. Khushi was sitting up in the bed, replying to the congratulatory text messages that had come through last night, when he emerged, dressed in a jogging outfit.

"I'll be back soon," he said, quickly kissing her before leaving.

Khushi got ready for the day slowly, relieved to find that the alienation she'd felt last night was receding quickly. She even thought she could learn to love the grapefruit shower gel he'd bought her.

When she was done, Khushi stood in front of the wardrobe.

Amma always takes out Babu-ji's clothes. Maybe I should take out Arnav-ji's clothes for him. But ... what if he doesn't like what I pick?

She finally laid out an outfit with all her favourite things – his black suit, blue shirt, and black tie – and decided to ask him what to do in the future.

Downstairs, Khushi helped with the morning pooja, blushing as Anjali-ji and Nani-ji teased her.

"Khushi-ji, you look tired, didn't Chhote let you sleep?" giggled her sister-in-law.

She pouted as her Jiji joined in, silently vowing revenge, but her heart gave a little quiver of fear.

What do they all know that I don't?

She retreated upstairs as soon as she could and busied herself with her unpacking, declining her sister's offer to help. She needed time to think before Arnav-ji returned.

He strode into the room some ten minutes later, coming to an uncertain stop in the middle of the room when he saw her. She took him in slowly. His face and hair were wet, as if he'd tipped a bottle of water over his head before coming inside, and his shirt clung to him almost obscenely, outlining the torso she'd never seen but suddenly wanted to. Very much.

"Baby, if you keep looking at me like that I won't let you out of this bedroom all day."

Blushing, Khushi came back to herself and mumbled an apology.

You're shameless, Khushi!

She turned back to the wardrobe, hands shaking and heart pounding, but he was suddenly right behind her, holding her by the waist.

"Hey. Don't be sorry. Never be sorry. But, if you're going to look at me like that when I get back then I might have to jog every morning, not just four times a week."

She turned and swatted at him, smiling at his joke as relief spread through her, and he ducked before rushing into the bathroom.

Khushi was helping with the breakfast preparations when he came downstairs, wearing everything she'd laid out for him except the suit's jacket. Arnav-ji smiled at her as he took his seat at the dining table but it faded away when his sister smacked his hand as he reached for toast.

"Di!"

"No. Today you have to eat what Khushi-ji made for you. It's her first day in this house."

His eyes were warm as he looked at her. "What did you make?"

"Halwa-puri," interjected Mami-ji, "I told her to make halwa-puri for us, my signature dish! We can compare what Phati- I mean, Khushi-bitya has made to what I made when I first came into this house."

"That was so long ago, Manno," grinned Mama-ji, "who will remember it?"

"You just shut-upiyai!"

Arnav-ji held her gaze, an apology in his eyes, but Khushi shook her head. She had to make something, and halwa-puri was something she made well.

"We have such wonderful bahus," Nani-ji smiled as Khushi served her, "Payal-bitya made a wonderful kheer, and now Khushi-bitya has made us halwa-puri."

Khushi grinned as she made her way around the table, serving her new family alongside Jiji and Hari Prakash-ji.

"Khushi-ji, this food is delicious," smiled Jija-ji.

"Khushi-bitya, your halwa is marvelous," praised Mama-ji.

A hundred thousand thank yous, Devi Maiyya. Everyone likes the halwa-puri. I'll make you two kilograms of jalebi as an offering!

Arnav-ji smiled at her as she took her seat next to him and served his with the sugar free halwa she'd prepared. When he finished his portion, she quickly buttered a piece of toast for him and poured a glass of orange juice.

"I know you can't go without your toast and juice," she said in undertone.

He took her hand under the table, curling his fingers around hers and running his thumb over her knuckles.

When the breakfast things were cleared and packed away, Khushi hurried upstairs, intent on speaking to her sister. Jiji was in her room, fiddling with a basket of clean laundry that had just been delivered.

"Jiji, do you need any help?"

"No, it's all done, I just need to separate out my things from your Jija's. But I think this shirt is Arnav-ji's."

Khushi sat on the bed, Arnav-ji's shirt on her lap, and watched as her sister packed things into drawers and cupboards.

"Khushi, I'm so glad you and Arnav-ji decided not to have a wedding reception. I don't think I could handle another night of getting dressed up and talking to strangers."

"He hates things like that," Khushi smiled fondly, "He said we could spend an extra day on our honeymoon instead."

"Has he told you where you're going?"

"No," Khushi sighed, accidentally bunching up her husband's shirt and creasing it, "he refuses to tell me. He says it's a surprise."

"How will you know what to pack?"

"He's taking me shopping in a few days. I guess I'll have some clues then."

Khushi busied herself by organising her sister's saris for her, and they worked in companionable silence for a few minutes. She fiddled with a tassel on one of Jiji's blouses.

"Jiji ..." she began, "how was your honeymoon?"

"It was magnificent," her sister smiled, "London is beautiful. We went to so many exciting places. You saw the pictures."

Khushi closed her eyes.

"And what about ... the other ... things ..."

"What other things?"

"Jiji!" Khushi sighed, "the other things."