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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Arnav took in the glimmering city view from his penthouse, sipping on a glass of wine –one of the finest sent as a congratulatory gift for the new mall project he had finalized last week– and waiting impatiently for the clock to tick faster. After three treacherous days, it was finally Sunday and like his mood, the evening air held a perfect mix of tranquility and excitement.
It had been a decent weekend overall. He finished everything he had wanted to, including getting through all the mundane files he usually left to the end of the week in pure procrastination and running to the grocery store to stock up for the upcoming week. He even cleaned the whole penthouse, dusting et al.
And despite all that, he had been utterly bored.
For the first time in many weeks, Arnav had time for himself without any lingering regrets of days bygone and ironically, he didn't want any of it. What he wanted was coming home to the excitement of cooking a meal, of hearing about new cases Khushi had stumbled upon that day, of discussing what to watch on Netflix or best of all, taking a walk through the nearby park.
What Arnav wanted was companionship. And not just anyone's. Khushi's presence had become that deep rooted in his life.
He never imagined, even in his wildest dreams that things would settle so quickly. After the storm he had weathered, he had assumed the reparations would take forever. That he would be in pain for years to come. And yet, to his great surprise, moving on came easy.
Perhaps it was because what he did before was unnatural. Perhaps he should have simply accepted the circumstances of his marriage instead of fighting it. Maybe then the happiness and relief he was experiencing now would have come months ago.
Of course, the happiness wasn't hidden. Lavanya was quick to spot it when he met her for brunch earlier that day and handed her a loaf of her favorite banana bread that he had baked in an attempt to kill time. Of course, she also proceeded to tease him about it, asking how Khushi managed to convince him to cook again when she, Lavanya, had failed for many months now. He had laughed it off, not wanting to invite her to start a discussion about his love life.
What he had with Khushi was special, beyond any logic or explanations. Perhaps it was more than love too, because what was passion without understanding? What was affection without acceptance? He had learned by now that love could wane with time, but true friendship would stay.
Everyone may not understand that, he certainly didn't expect his family to, but he knew Khushi would. That was what he prized the most about her. He could count on her to know, to empathize and to accept. She made life effortless.
And that's why he was waiting so impatiently for her to return home– no, to their home. Their dinner –Italian tonight– was cooked and already laid out on the table. He saved the cupcakes she requested for dessert.
