Charade (IPKKND AU)

Chapter 6: Caged

Khushi

Later that night Khushi stood to the side as her mother and aunt bid a tearful and apologetic farewell to her new family. Arnav-ji had long since locked himself in his bedroom, refusing to speak to anyone, even his sister.

"Take care of yourself," Amma cried as she embraced Jiji.

"My only wish for you," Bua-ji took her turn, "is that you prove to be the world's best daughter and this family's best bahu."

It shouldn't have hurt, not after everything else, but Khushi felt something inside her splinter at the insinuation that she'd failed as both a daughter and daughter-in-law.

"Respect the traditions and ways of this household," Bua-ji continued, "and prize its honour above all."

When Amma wheeled Babu-ji away, not even stopping to allow a proper goodbye, Khushi ran after them. "Amma ... Bua-ji ... Babu-ji!"

They didn't stop.

"Amma! Bua-ji!"

Her mother turned, "Don't call me Amma! Because of you, today we can't even look at Payaliya's in-law's!"

Khushi ran to her father's side, kneeling in front of his wheelchair, "Babu-ji."

He nodded tearfully, using his meagre strength to place a hand over hers in a gesture of comfort. But the moment was cut short when Amma called the driver to help them.

"Are you happy now?" Bua-ji rounded on her when Amma and Babu-ji were settled in the car, "You came into lives and brought us only pain. Today, Khushi, you've proven that you aren't my blood. You aren't Shashi and Garima's child. If you'd been my niece, my true niece, then you wouldn't have this to my Payaliya. What a reward you've given us for taking in an orphan into our home and treating her as our own."

The car drove away before she was able to shake herself out of her shocked stupor. She made her way back to the house on exhausted feet, stumbling as the horrors of the night replayed in her mind.

"I saw. I saw you on the terrace."

"Papers, to say that you will not ask for any part of the estate or company in the case of a divorce."

"Today, Khushi, you've proven that you aren't my blood. You aren't Shashi and Garima's child."

The main room was empty except for a small figure wrapped in red and jewels.

"Khushi!" Jiji crossed the room, "What's happening? You didn't tell anyone else, but you'll tell your Jiji, right? What were you thinking, Khushi? Why did you do this?"

"How much do you love your sister?"

"All I have to do is stand here, and your sister will remain unmarried for a second time."

"Don't you have anything to say, Khushi?" Jiji shook her.

"Nothing will change, Jiji, no matter what I say or do. What's done is done."

"You understand that this is not real?"

"Yes."

"But there is no future, and after the baby is born ..."

"I understand."

"Did you see how our family was shamed tonight? No. Not our family, because you never accepted them as yours!"

"Jiji ..." Khushi reached for her sister, but her hand was flung away.

"You have nothing to say? Well, I have something to say. From the day Amma and Babu-ji brought you into our home I considered you a sister. I thought you hid nothing from me, that you shared every happiness, every misery with me. But now I see that you never accepted me as your sister."

The words seemed to ring, echoing off the marble floors and chandeliers of his home as Jiji stormed away. Khushi collapsed onto her knees, howling her misery as the flowers and lights and decorations mocked her. She was an unwanted daughter, an unwanted bride, an unwanted sister.

It was a long time before she gathered the courage to stand and make her way to upstairs, to set foot in the bedroom that seemed achingly familiar and utterly foreign at the same time. She shut the door before kneeling next to where he hunched on his sofa. Her husband made no effort to hide his tears.

"I was eight years old when my mother and father died," she began, "Babu-ji, Amma, and Bua-ji took me in and gave me a place in their home. And today, today they said that I'm no longer their daughter, that my home is no longer mine. Today I'm an orphan again, Arnav-ji."

Arnav-ji lifted his head as she continued, "I've been orphaned again because of what we did today. I asked you to wait ... I tried to tell you ... but you wouldn't listen. And now ..."

"You understand, don't you, why it had to be this way?" his voice seemed to crack.

To her surprise, she did. She understood that he was hurt. She understood his instinct to do anything and everything to protect his sister and her unborn child. She empathised with his fear that Shyam-ji would do something unforgivable. Some part of her even recognised his generosity in giving her sindoor and a mangalsutra when the legal documents would have sufficed. He'd given her the marriage she'd asked for.

But it still hurt that he didn't trust her, that everything they'd endured wasn't proof enough of her loyalty.

Or her love.

"Will you do something for me?" she answered his question with one of her own.

"I owe you nothing."

"Will you let me prove it to you?"

"Prove what?"

"That I'm innocent. Promise me that you'll listen. That you'll at least consider what I've said."

Arnav-ji stood, heading to the door, "I've done enough for you. I'm allowing my sister's rival to live in my house, as my wife."

"One minute, Mr Arnav Singh Raizada!" Khushi scrambled up, placing herself between him and the door. She stood with her back pressed against it. "Perhaps discussions end when you leave in your office, but today I need an answer. I won't let you leave without promising me! I married you, tonight, just like you asked. You have to do this for me!"

"Khushi, I'm warning you ..." he tried to step around her.

When that proved ineffectual, he decided to exit through the poolside. She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, fingers twisted into the fabric of his waistcoat, "Just one chance, that's all I'm asking for."

"I don't think it's necessary to listen to anything you have to say."

He flung her arm away before disappearing into the black night, and she was left bereft and cold and alone.

The long and bitter hours trickled by slowly as she waited for him to return, kneeling against his green sofa. Exhausted and struggling to keep her eyes open, Khushi pillowed her head on the jacket he'd carelessly discarded sometime in the night and allowed the familiar scent of him to sooth her slumber.