Khushi
"I hate him. I hate him as I've never hated anyone in my life. I hate him so much that it makes me sick to look at him. I hate him so much that I would rather die than have his name and mine be taken in the same breath."
For a moment, it seemed that Arnav-ji had softened, that he was finally listening to what she was saying. But then ...
"I can't do this with you," he strode to the door, "I can't."
Khushi sank back onto the bed, trying to stop her tears in vain. Eventually, when she had composed herself, she returned to the main room and found Arnav-ji standing near the front door.
"We're leaving," he announced when he saw her.
"You won't stay for lunch?" Bua-ji flapped her hands in his direction, "But ... I thought ..."
Arnav-ji didn't respond. Khushi felt the weight of his gaze as she knelt in front of her father's wheelchair.
"Bye Babu-ji," she held her father's hand, "I'll visit you again soon."
She said her farewells to her mother and aunt before joining Arnav-ji at the door.
"Visit soon, babua," Bua-ji spoke softly, "and ... and take care of our daughter."
Arnav-ji gave a small nod.
"And ... babua ..." Bua-ji examined her hands before meeting his eyes, "Payaliya ... she lives in your ... your house now ... and ... she meant ... we all meant well ... you see ..."
Khushi noted an unexpected warmth flare in his eyes as he responded, "I won't turn her out of her home. I'll take care of both your daughters, don't worry. Tell Payal nothing. I will handle it when it's time."
Though clearly surprised, Bua-ji nodded her agreement.
"Khushi," Amma hurried over, a small bag clutched in her hands, "Take this."
Her mouth twisted into a bitter smile as she recognised the bag as the same one that had come with Arnav-ji's bangles a few nights ago. A quick glance told her that he'd recognised it too.
"Thank you," she smiled at her mother, "I'll call you later."
They drove to Shantivan in silence, a chasm of misunderstandings between them, and though she tried to think of something to say, they reached their destination before Khushi had uttered a sound. She followed Arnav-ji out of the car and to the entrance of the house, where he held out his hand.
"I don't want to worry Di. She has to believe that your pagphere went well."
Nodding, she slid her palm against his. He held tightly as he pressed the doorbell.
"Hello, hi, Arnav-bitwa," Mami-ji answered, "And the esstra bahu. Welcomes back."
"Chhote? Khushi-ji? How did it go?" Anjali-ji arrived in the entryway.
"Fine, Di," Arnav-ji said brusquely, "Everything is fine."
He shouldered past his sister. When Anjali-ji narrowed her eyes at her, clearly mistrustful, Khushi mustered up a smile, "It went well, Anjali-ji. Did Jiji and Jija-ji return safely?"
"They returned some time ago," Anjali-ji nodded, "Payal-ji is in the kitchen. They wouldn't answer our questions."
Khushi's eyes followed her husband as he disappeared up the stairs, "I'll see if she needs any help."
She found her sister pacing the length of the kitchen, fidgeting with the pallu of her sari. Jiji quickly turned away, but not before Khushi saw the glisten of tears.
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Charade (IPKKND AU)
Fanfiction(IPKKND AU) Some relationships are tied in extraordinary ways. They begin with conflict. They grow in hatred. They stumble, they fall, and yet they remain. The hatred grows as the relationship deepens. Until one day, even hatred itself is reluctant...