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?"
"Sorry, but are we talking about the same wedding?" Khushi replied sarcastically. "Because all I remember is feeling like a caged lion in a zoo."
Arnav met her eyes at that. "Caged lion?"
"Well if I'm going to have to be an animal, might as well be the king of the jungle."
He chuckled. "No... I mean, did you really feel caged? Like you couldn't breathe?"
"Yes...," she said slowly. "Why? Did you feel the same way?"
He pulled his eyes away.
She waited patiently for him answer, suddenly curious. She had never heard what he had felt in the days leading up to their marriage and not to mention, the impending merger. Had her father been just as ruthless with him as he was with her?
"Yes," Arnav admitted finally. "I did feel like that... but I knew it was silly. I mean I agreed to it didn't I?"
Khushi sighed. "Arnav, you are seriously going to have to stop. Either tell me why you feel so guilty about this marriage –because I know you didn't really have a choice– or stop blaming yourself. I don't like you brooding."
"You sound like Lavu."
"Yeah, well Lavu usually has a point."
Arnav shrugged. "Sorry... I can't help it sometimes. It's just that...I'm done screwing up. I want to do things right from now on."
Khushi didn't know what to say. Would he ever make peace with the decisions and situations that led him here? Or was he planning to spend the rest of his life trying to correct all the wrongs he believed he had made?
"Actually, the whole caged thing reminded me about your question yesterday."
Khushi stopped short. "What question?"
"You were asking if I'm okay being married to someone I don't love, right?"
She nodded.
"Well, do animals survive better in a zoo or in a wide-open jungle?"
Khushi had no trouble understanding what he meant. "That's not fair... they were forced to settle in the zoo."
"No, they adapted to the zoo... doesn't every theory in the world come down that? We can't change the direction of the wind, but we can adjust our sails... we can't change the world, but we can adjust our lens... the list is endless."
She stared at him, not sure if she heard right.
"Oh come on," he muttered catching her eyes. "You heard of Darwin's theory of evolution! Where is your nerdiness when it's needed Dr. Gupta?"
Khushi rolled her eyes. "Basically, you would choose captivity over freedom?"
Arnav paused. "The intelligent man would choose survival."
"Is that why you sold your restaurant and became the owner of Raizada Industries?"
He missed a step while beating the coffee. Perhaps he wasn't expecting her to know about his failed venture.
"That's different," he said.
"Why so?"
"Because it wasn't much of a choice... I failed at owning a restaurant. In fact, I sold it long before my father even got a stroke."
"Why do you think you failed?"
Arnav took a deep breath. "It's a long story..."
"We have all night."
"You have a shift at 6 a.m. tomorrow."
"It's not 6 a.m. right now..."
"You are relentless."
"So were you when you came barging in one fine evening asking me why I quit my internship."
Arnav chuckled at the memory of it. "That was needed... you were being obstinate."
"Well, so are you right now."
He didn't respond. Instead, turning off the stove, he calmly finished mixing the coffee and handed her a steaming cup, before gesturing to the window seat adjacent to the kitchen. It was one of his favorite places in the apartment. Khushi had caught him sitting there many times, deep in thought.
"I had no plan to open a restaurant," he began when they made themselves comfortable. "I just knew that I wanted to be a chef. I had no clue about how to make a career out of it..."
"Didn't you talk to anyone about it? Someone who could guide you?"
Arnav snorted. "I wish... I mean, yeah, I should have found someone. I should have done more research, I should have planned better... but in my haste to put myself far from my dad and his stupid business, I didn't. So, the minute one of my good friends told me he was looking for a partner to open a restaurant with, I jumped all in... I didn't care about anything else."
Khushi had no trouble picturing that. A young, naïve Arnav being excited about owning a restaurant... he must have been so happy.
"And the lack of experience showed... my partner was new at it too, he had trouble with the finances, our menu wasn't exceptional, our cooks tended to quit so we had to resort to students... it was chaos."
"Any business takes time to be established, no?"
"Sure, but that won't make us good at it, will it?" he countered with an ironic smile. "Any profession takes discipline, and back then I just didn't have it. I worked hard, but without direction, no amount of hard work will get you to your goal."
She agreed whole-heartedly. "So what happened then?"
"My partner wanted to sell. He thought it was the practical thing to do, and I couldn't convince him otherwise... that's when I realized the problem wasn't that my parents were forcing me to do something I didn't like, or that I didn't have the support I needed. The problem was that I wasn't good. If I couldn't make one person believe that I could run a restaurant, how was I even dreaming of convincing the rest of the world?"
Khushi felt sympathy surge through her.
"So no, I don't believe that I chose anything... there was really only one way I could go."
He fell quiet, lost in thoughts.
Khushi spoke again. "Don't you miss it?"
"Sometimes," he admitted, looking out of the window into the serene night. "But when I see Papa look at me with pride during meetings or when I'm asked for an opinion on some deal or when my employees feel the need to email me asking if things are okay the minute I disappear without a notice... I miss it less."
Khushi couldn't help but grin at that. "You adapted."
He smiled, a small melancholic smile. "It's the smart thing to do Dr. Gupta."
It was. Because she did the same. She had made the most of all the situations she was unmercifully thrown into. But somehow, that wasn't the case in his situation. It didn't feel like he was adjusting; no, it felt like he was giving up.
And that wasn't okay.
"You know," Khushi said finally. "The only person we need to convince is ourselves... because sometimes, earning someone's faith has less to do with you and more to do with their willingness to believe."
"Perhaps... but it doesn't hurt to be practical," he said, standing up. "If the interrogation is over, may I retire to my den?"
"You may," she answered with a laugh. "Have fun rescuing your inbox."
Wishing her good night, he then disappeared into his study, closing the door with an inaudible click.
Khushi sat beside the window for a long time that night, gazing out into the dormant city, but not really seeing the buildings standing tall against the moonlight.
If truth be told, her situation had not changed much in the last few days. Her marriage was still pretty much the same façade as before, but somehow, things didn't seem so hazy anymore. She realized –with relief– that whatever Arnav and Myra had, it was indefinitely over. She realized that Arnav may have married her to save his company, but he never intended to mistreat her. And perhaps most important of all, she realized that Arnav was offering her a life of respect and dignity, something that everyone seemed to have failed to do so far. They may remain friends for the rest of their lives, but at least they weren't resentful or bitter.
And for now, that was enough for her.
* * *
Rain furiously trickled down the oval shaped windows, blurring the rest of Delhi from view. Khushi watched the droplets slide down the glass panes, remembering how badly she wanted to run into the rain as a child, but never having the permission to do so. Her mother had always been extra worried when it came to her.
It was the day after their return from NK's farmhouse. Khushi had arrived home early from her shift at the hospital, a plan in mind. She had spent the whole day thinking about it, debating whether it was right or wrong and then finally, resolving to disregard all second thoughts about it.
And now, having finished it, she was waiting patiently for Arnav to come back from his office to share the news. The clock read 8 o'clock on the dot when the front door clicked open at last and in came the man himself, drenched to the core.
"Hey," Arnav greeted, fatigued. "It's pouring outside."
Khushi simply smiled. "How was your day?"
"Productive," he replied. "Let me get changed first."
Khushi nodded and resumed watching the raindrops. He arrived less than ten minutes later, looking quite fresh in a pair of joggers and a plain black t-shirt.
"I'm starving," he muttered, going towards to the dining area where Lata usually left them food. "Were you waiting for me? I told you I was going to be late–"
He broke off upon catching sight of the empty dining table. He did a double take, before turning to give her a puzzled look.
"Did Lata take a leave today?" he asked.
Khushi suppressed her grin and stood up from the window seat. "No," she answered. "I told her to go home."
"Err... what?"
"I told her –very nicely– that we don't need her here anymore. I'm assuming she will go back to working at your parents' house."
Arnav was flabbergasted, so much so that Khushi almost wanted to take a picture of him.
"Why... why would you do that?" he asked finally, as though she had killed puppies in cold blood.
"Because," she explained coolly, taking a seat at the dining table. "We are getting lazy... this place is too tiny for us to really need a house help."
Arnav ran his hands through his still wet hair –a habit he had whenever he was frustrated– before speaking again. "I know this flat is as much yours as it is mine, but I would prefer it if you had a word with me before taking such drastic steps."
"But–"
He held up a finger, indicating that he was not finished. Khushi fell quiet, waiting for her turn patiently.
"We need Lata. I work late hours, so do you, the house will fall apart in less than a day without her. I will call her first thing tomorrow morning, hopefully she isn't offended and will come back... in the meantime, we can have takeout."
"No."
"Excuse me?"
"No, I don't want her to come back."
"So, you're planning on starving yourself?!"
"Not at all... I was hoping you would cook."
Arnav stared at her incredulous.
"Aren't you a trained chef?" she continued cheekily. "Making dinner every day shouldn't be too hard for you..."
He took a deep breath, as though trying very hard to calm his nerves. "I appreciate you making the effort to help me, but please don't. My schedule is busy as is, I don't have time for making dinner–"
Khushi didn't let him finish. "Well, then maybe it's a sign that you should work less."
He narrowed his eyes. "You should be the last person talking about working less! Should I pull up your hours this past month?"
"Should I pull up yours?"
Arnav crossed his arms. "Fine, let's not go down that road–"
"What's the issue here? You seemed very happy cooking at the farmhouse."
"Yes, I enjoy cooking, but I don't like doing it when I'm being held at gunpoint!"
She rolled her eyes. "Stop exaggerating. I'm merely suggesting that if you spare some time for cooking, then maybe you wouldn't miss being a chef so much."
"Again, I don't have time–"
"Then make time."
Arnav fell short of words, either in exasperation or in understanding, she couldn't quite tell. She was hoping it was the latter.
Khushi pressed on. "We make time for the things we like Arnav. Just because situations were inconvenient, or because we failed a couple of times, doesn't mean we give up. We push forward."
"I know that, but I can't afford to make mistakes now. One hundred percent of my attention is needed at the company! Our sales are finally going up, the numbers are slowly changing from red to green, I–"
"Listen to me," Khushi said, the sternness in her voice unmistakable. "I am not asking you to give up your company, nor am I asking you to cook a five-course meal every night. All I'm asking of you is to dedicate a few minutes every day to do something you enjoy very dearly... am I really asking for something impossible?"
Arnav glared at her, but the surrender was quite evident in his eyes. "You really are relentless."
She grinned triumphantly. "Learned it from the best."
"But let me just say that my meetings are very unpredictable, so if you come home to find no dinner–"
"Then it will be about time I started using my salary and ordered takeout."
Arnav bit his lip, clearly failing at hiding his laugh.
Khushi beamed in response. There was however, one last concern on his mind.
"Do you really think letting Lata go was a good thing?" he asked, uncertain. "I mean she's ancient, my mother is probably going to have a panic attack once she hears about this."
Khushi stood up with a shrug. "Well maybe it's time Aunty realized you are a big boy."
And without waiting for his reply, she went back into the living room, quite proud of herself. She had been toying with the idea of laying off their trusted house help for many days now –well, ever since she heard that Lata was acting as a spy for her in-laws, a matter that still caused her much annoyance– but the reason for it didn't present itself until last night.
Arnav may have "adapted" to his situation as the CEO of the Raizada Industries, but Khushi knew that he was simply using it as an excuse to give up his passion. She had no plans to let him do it, however. Didn't he give her endless speeches about following your dreams when she was hesitating to resume her internship? So why was the rule different for him? If he cannot be a chef by profession, then he can at the very least cook as a hobby. It was high time he stopped being disappointed in himself.
And Khushi knew she had made the right decision just a mere hour later, when they were both seated at the dining table once again, devouring his freshly prepared food. Arnav seemed to be in a much lighter mood and was chatting freely about his day.
"You know," he said, as she finished the last few mouthfuls. "You were right yesterday."
Khushi smirked. "I always am... but about what exactly?"
"Of all the animals in the jungle, you definitely are the most like a lion."
She didn't understand.
"You may be caged," he said sincerely. "But you never stop fighting. You stand tall even when there is nothing to stand on."
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A/N: A big thank you for all of the wonderful comments to the last chapter 🤗❤️
Hope you liked Arnav and Khushi's budding relationship 😉 Please vote & comment!
Will try my best to update again on Wednesday!