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What's The Procedure To Stop Crushing On Him?

His shoulders slumped down as he relaxed himself by leaning by the backrest of his chair, and decided he'd just read the piece of paper, the words inscribed on it in black, one more time, to feel sure he had not blundered.

He shut his eyes for an instant, before he opened them at the paper in his hands—this time it did not bemuse him like the last time he had to come across the paper, without any prior information—except for the unique feeling in his chest since that morning.

Sure, Khushi was pregnant—that did not bemuse him. What did was her the confirmation paper in her office drawer, and her bizarre silence about it, considering the date on the result paper, which was a couple days prior to today's.

Raghav had whiled away five minutes that followed, by simply staring at his desktop monitor, haphazardly—until Meena scrambled back to her seat from the restroom.

"Khushi is pregnant!" He had stated plainly looking at her.

Meena tipped her chin up to meet Raghav in his eyes, who was standing against the desk, watching her back with the most expectantly wide brown eyes. With those expressions on his face, and his most genuine brown eyes, no one would ever think he was joking.

Her feathery lashes batted thrice at the bomb he had dropped straight on her head, she sucked in a sharp inhale. "What are you saying?" was what she'd managed to mumble, before Raghav slapped the sheet of paper he had in his hand, on the plane of the desk, in front of her.

Meena had cast a doubtful glance at his anticipating face, before picking the paper up in her hands. Her gaze strayed over the paper for half a minute carefully, and leveled with his watchful ones. "You're right, Khushi's conceived," she said, her voice hazing into lackluster one.

Khushi and Dev were trying to conceive and Meena knew about it—it sure made her happy but also made her feel some other way—as if something was not quite okay with Khushi's leave and silence.

Raghav seemed muddled about it as well, when they'd called Khushi immediately, and she'd not responded. So they decided they'd simply wrap their work up and drive by to check up if she was alright.

Khushi rubbed her temple, an eased smile freeing on her lips, and her big, blue eyes not leaving the paper in her hands. "I was searching for this all over the place in this house, this morning," she mumbled, as if it was to herself, rather acquainting the two anxious faces in front of her.

Raghav deadpanned. "How'd you have it here when in fact it was in your office desk?"

There was something not right about Khushi leaving the paper behind in her office desk—if not intended, there was something wrong about it, because Khushi had not a restless, forgetful mind to leave it behind; if intended, there was something really wrong or alarming about it.

Khushi folded her arms close to her bosom around herself, and took in a deep inhale. "I had a rough time yesterday when I discovered spotting—"

"—you mean?" Raghav interjected, his eyes narrowing at the toss-up of the happening she was talking about.

Khushi continued, "Blood spotting, yeah." Her voice hushed down as the memories of what she'd suffered for the couple of days resurfaced.

Hardened expressions on Meena's face enfeebled into what'd one label as tenderness. "But... but spotting isn't always something you need to worry a lot about—" She gave out, tenderly, looking at Khushi.

"—yes, I have read about it, too. It's not what you think always." Raghav opined, earnestly. But then glowered. "But why'd you not tell us about it before."