Perfectly Flawed (Complete) (Under Editing)

Chapter Eleven

"Khushi I'm sor..."

Khushi looked up, her fingers on his lips "No. Arnav don't say sorry. I was hurt, upset and even angry! But now... I don't know, I must be confused." She shrugged, playing with the hem of her shirt.

Sitting up, she continued "You know Arnav, no matter what, I was never insecure - at least not about you. Even when we hate married, I knew that you will be with me... it had never come to me that I could lose you."

"You never will!"

"I have!" Khushi almost screamed, shushing immediately once she realised where she was. "Who are you Arnav? What do you like? Apart from Harvard, the colour red and Italian food, what else do I know about you?" Tears brimmed in her eyes as her husband refused to believe her.

'You don't get it, do you? When Sheetal was here, she made me realise how little I know about you. I never needed for you to tell me how much you loved me. But now, she made you smile... laugh! I thought that was something that only I could do..." Khushi whispered the last words, her lips quivering with suppressed sobs.

"I love you Khushi." Arnav said, swallowing thickly. He couldn't deny anything.

"And now I don't even know myself..." Khushi whispered, ignoring him. Arnav looked on, scared as Khushi alienated herself from him and stood up. "I need to leave."

What?

Arnav stood up, touching her panicked shoulders "You told me you won't run away." "I'm not running away Arnav. It's just that... I don't know anything! I don't know anyone! To find you, I lost myself. But it's not your fault." Wrenching his hands from her shoulders, Khushi held her head with her hands, breathing harshly. "I need to go, somewhere I don't know. Maybe in anonymity I'll meet myself?" She asked, placing her palms over her mouth.

"I'm going mad? Right? I'm not making any sense! I..." Khushi trailed off, to find an agonized Arnav look at her. With a few brisk steps, he cupped her cheeks and rest his forehead against hers "You're perfect Khushi."

"I don't want to be..." Her lips quivered, hands shaking as she held his own.

"Please, just let me go. Let me be, it's not about us... not about you, it's about me." Arnav listened to her, his heart pounding as her fear stabbed him. For once she was doing the right thing since she met him, she was thinking about herself.

Swallowing tightly, Arnav wished if she threw accusations at him. Yelled at him, throw away her wedding band or vent out how he broke her, not to be broken herself. Guilt kicked his gut as he forgot the last time she laughed. Through the corner of his eyes he spotted Khushi, sunk on the floor, her head in her hands. Just how his mother had been, before she killed herself.

"Aa... Arnav, just let me go."

"Yes... please." He croaked, mouth dry as his body burnt of a betrayal against self. "Thank you." She cried, sprinting off. Turning, he leaned against the window for a support. At the corner there was a butterfly, fluttering until a gust of wind made it smash against a window and drop dead. His eyes were trained on the crushed butterfly, hauntedly, as its deformed wing gave a last try before it became still.

He looked up, distracted, as his wife's reflection grew on the window pane. Spinning on his heel, he was next to her in a breath. "Can I," He stopped, gazing at glistening eyes "May I... just arrange everything for you? Please?" Khushi gave a noncommittal nod. Arnav picked up her bulky bag and realised his mistake when her clothes spilled across the floor. She had forgotten to zip her bag.

Kneeling down he looked at the bunched up dresses and up at a disoriented Khushi. Did he do this to her? But he just loved her. Recall your love story... how was it? The voice was naggingly close to his cousin.