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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Khushi entered the still penthouse, tired, but contented. They had just returned from NK's farmhouse, and thankfully, the ride back was much more pleasant than the drive there. The reason was obvious, her friendship with Arnav –who had just stepped in behind her, carrying their bags– was reinstated.
It was quite an eventful trip. Khushi had gone worried about how she was going to keep up the image of a happy life, but had come back, actually happier. She had a few people to thank for that, of course. And she made sure Sam and Mitali received her gratitude before leaving.
Then, there was Arnav himself.
Of course, there wasn't much change in him at first glance. The chocolate brown eyes, the delicate hairs, the chiseled jawline and slender lips were all exactly the same. But you could tell, something had changed. It was subtle, but it was definitely there.
In retrospect, Khushi knew she shouldn't have been surprised to hear about the private details of Arnav and Myra, because she had seen first-hand, the aftermath of their break-up. She had seen Arnav struggle to grapple the reality of it. She had seen how angry and desperate he was, reverting to alcohol and vicious arguments with his family. It was obvious from the get-go that he was holding on to unresolved feelings, despite knowing that there were very slim chances of reconciliation.
But she was surprised.
She was surprised with how much he cared about things that were out of his control. How much he had invested into his relationship when he knew that it lacked trust and most of all, how much guilt he was carrying about the end of it. It was no wonder, really, that he held such a low self-esteem. If everything that happened in his life boiled down to being hisfault, then of course he was never going to dare believe in himself ever again.
"Coffee?"
Khushi turned around to find Arnav heading to the kitchen. She didn't even realize when he had changed into his pajamas.
"Now?" she asked confused, following him.
"I was off for three days," he explained, opening the fridge to pull out milk. "I'm sure my inbox got run over by a tsunami... I must rescue it before the second wave hits tomorrow morning."
Khushi laughed. He was so easy to talk to when he wasn't sulking or angry or disappointed... what wouldn't she do to freeze him in this state for the rest of eternity.
"So?" he asked. "Would you like to taste my world-famous coffee?"
"Is it world famous or Raizada famous?" she replied, leaning against the kitchen island, watching him retrieve the items he needed.
"It's the same thing if you ask me... do you even know how many of us there are?"
She didn't follow. "Didn't I just spend a whole weekend with them?"
He snorted in answer. "That's the immediate family... wait until you meet my Nani's siblings, their kids and their kids' kids. Actually, they were all at the wedding, don't you remember?"
