Arranged marriage was an age-old story that Khushi, the youngest of the infamous Gupta family, who revolutionized and dominated the trading market for generations, knew well.
For it was the only thing she heard growing up.
But that neither prepared...
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- Present Time -
Arnav absent-mindedly paced around the room, deep in thought. The sun was shining brightly across the city of Delhi, a spectacular view of which was visible from his office on the fiftieth floor. He had never admired it before, feeling his father added the abnormally large windows to make the room feel less like a jail and him, less like a prisoner. Of course, it did nothing but put a flimsy band-aid on his wounds.
But today, his thoughts were trained on something else entirely. It had been only three days ago that his wife of three months dropped a bombshell on him and walked away as if it was nothing.
Thankfully, his mother recovered very quickly from her allergic reaction –of course, all because of Khushi's timely response– and didn't really recall much of the incident. All she asked was how Khushi knew what medication to give her before the paramedics arrived, a question that Khushi dodged very easily by saying she had learnt it from her friend, Payal Sharma, who was a doctor and quite relentless about educating people on common medical emergencies.
It was a blatant lie. Arnav didn't have to look at Khushi's face to know that, for anyone who had watched her during that awful incident would know that her hands had worked with such precision that there was no way she knew what to do merely by remembering an advice from a friend. His mother, of course, bought the whole thing without question, simply glowing that her daughter-in-law was quick-witted and recounted the story for the umpteenth time, this time to her husband, who had just arrived worriedly from a trip to Bangalore.
It didn't make sense at all.
Did he mishear that she was doctor? Then why was she royally ignoring him, refusing to be alone in a room with him or even meeting his eye for that matter?
By the time the news of Khushi's qualifications sunk in, a good twenty-four hours later, Arnav had more questions than ever. He couldn't tell if it was gross neglect on his part that he didn't know the answers or on her part for being so uncaringly aloof. Nonetheless, he set out to find them.
Arnav had resented being a Raizada for the better part of his life, but in this one instance, he couldn't help but be thankful. With just one single phone call, he had Khushi's entire biodata in front of him. Like she declared, she had indeed completed her studies in a respectable medical college, before pursuing an internship. Nine months after joining, however, she gave in her resignation. The official reason cited on the hospital records was "personal reasons", but Arnav knew, deep in his gut, it wasn't a coincidence that she quit just four months before their wedding.
The entire thing was mysterious. She had all the money in the world and yet, she studied on a scholarship. She was a brilliant student with exceptional certificates and yet, she dropped out of her internship. Why?
Because I married you.
Those four words never seized to haunt him.
Arnav had spent every minute since the day he got married begrudging Khushi, blaming her for all of his unhappiness. Could it be that she was also wronged as much as he? Was he the reason for all her misery? And if he was, did she resent him as much as he did her? Or more?
