A shot on Diwali night when Arnav doesn't understand Khushi's point of views regarding parenting and the importance of money and makes fun of her instead.
Requested by @prettybhawana1 and @Mehakshakir
Continuation.....
Raizada Mansion
Arnav stepped inside RM, his gaze sweeping across the space, seeking out the singular presence that mattered to him above all others. His wife, the very embodiment of grace and patience, whom he had consistently let down, the one he held dearest yet inflicted the most pain upon. He was desperate to make things right after his rash actions the night before.
With a heavy heart, he murmured, "Hari parkash," a sigh escaping him as he ventured into the kitchen, her usual sanctuary. Yet, to his dismay, it lay deserted, a stark reminder of the distance that had crept between them. The emptiness of the room mirrored the void he felt inside, amplifying his resolve to bridge the gap his actions had created.
""Yes, Arnav Bhaiyya," Hari Prakash responded, quickly picking up on the urgency in his voice.
"Where's Khushi?" Arnav inquired, his eyes scanning for the petite figure usually adorned in a silk saree.
"She's in your bedroom," came the reply. "Do you want anything else, Bhaiyya?"
"Just my wife and some privacy. You may take the rest of the day off," he commanded, before hastening upstairs.
He entered their bedroom only to discover her completely engrossed in a book, a serene figure nestled comfortably on the bed, her attention unwavering from the printed words. Her immersion was so deep that his arrival didn't disturb her in the slightest.
A soft "Hi," he murmured, barely above a whisper, finally capturing her attention.
"You're back," she said, her voice carrying a chill that unmistakably reflected her mood. She inserted a bookmark into her book, placed it on the nightstand with care, and then stood, moving towards their closet. He followed, his sigh heavy with unspoken emotions.
"Have you eaten?" she asked, her tone still distant.
Arnav offered a small smile, an attempt to bridge the gap between them. "I said we'd have lunch together, didn't I?" His eyes lingered on her, observing as she selected his loungewear and handed it to him.
"Go freshen up. I'll heat up the food," she directed, her demeanor softening slightly as she turned to leave.
"Khushi," he called out, a hint of sadness in his voice as he hoped to see her usual lively self. She paused, throwing him a quick look over her shoulder.
"I'm really sorry," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper filled with sincerity. "Can we first talk before having lunch? I've got something on my chest that I really need to get out." His eyes were earnest, almost begging for her to agree.
She met his gaze for a brief second before giving a quiet nod. "Change first. I'll be outside," she let out a small sigh, closing the door behind her as she stepped out.
~~~~~~
He hurried out of the closet, eager to find his only comfort. Khushi was there, seated by the pool, her feet lightly submerged in the refreshing water, her gaze fixed on some distant point. A smile touched his lips seeing her so absorbed in her thoughts.
Indeed, Khushi was an enigma. At times, he felt he could read her like an open book, yet at others, she was a fortress of reserve and poise, her thoughts and feelings guarded and elusive.
Silently, he approached and took a seat next to her, cautiously dipping his legs into the cool embrace of the pool. "You might catch a cold," he teased gently, eliciting a soft laugh from her.
"You never considered my well-being back when you'd have me sleep out here by the poolside," she said, a shadow of sadness lingering in her gaze.
A wave of guilt washed over him as he met her gaze, his own eyes filling with sincere regret. "I didn't," he admitted softly.
"Why did you agree to marry me, Khushi?" he murmured, his earnest eyes drifting to her engagement ring, the stunning diamond perfectly adorning her finger. "I've been nothing but cruel to you," he choked out, feeling the intensity of her gaze upon him.
"Because I love you," she responded with heartfelt sincerity, her beautiful face momentarily furrowed in concern as she processed his words.
"Yet, sometimes love just isn't enough," he countered, his gaze lost in the distance, reflecting a deep, unresolved turmoil.
"Yes, sometimes love isn't enough," she conceded, her gaze joining his in the distance, enveloped in a heavy silence.
"I grew up in privilege," he began, a reflective tone in his voice. "As Arvid Malik's only son, I lived in a world apart—a life filled with luxuries. Anything I desired was mine, without question." His eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, met her puzzled look.
"I was indulged beyond measure, Khushi. Dadi, Di, and to a lesser extent, Mumma, they all spoiled me. But Mumma... she tried to instill discipline. She emphasized the importance of following rules, respecting my elders, and dedicating myself to my studies. Without her influence, I fear I would have turned out just like my father," he concluded.
"And your father?" she inquired, curiosity mingling with confusion in her eyes.
"My father was absent," he said with a bitter chuckle. "You were right, Khushi. Some things money can't buy. No matter how much I yearned for his attention, it was never given. He was always working, always distant, and we were oblivious to the separate life he led."
"I used to rationalize his absence," he continued softly. "It was first Mumma, then Di, and finally my own attempts to convince myself that his neglect wasn't intentional. He was a busy man, burdened with responsibilities—for our future, for our continued prosperity."
"But when we discovered his affair, I was forced to face the truth. He never loved me, Mumma, or Di. He cared for nothing but his wealth and power." Turning away, he struggled for breath, the confession suffocating him.
"The man I once emulated was no longer my hero. The father I admired shared nothing with me. He left no positive legacy to remember, Khushi. I loathed his very existence and the legacy he left. After their passing, I let his empire fall to my uncle, indifferent to the inheritance."
"I was determined to redefine myself. I wanted the world to know me as Arnav Singh Raizada, not Arnav Malik. And so, I did everything within my power to become the man before you today." His gaze met hers, filled with sorrow, just as she intertwined her fingers with his, offering silent support.
"Even if it meant becoming the kind of proud man I was, the kind I sometimes still am. Even if it meant causing pain to those who didn't deserve it. Even if it meant being harsh to the world, because the world wasn't kind to me when I needed it most. Even if it meant looking down on those who didn't live up to my expectations."
"I worked tirelessly to get ARD off the ground, taking out a big loan to ensure my family's future after finishing my studies in London. I came back a different person. Even Di couldn't fully understand the change in me, but she knew why it happened."
"I've faced so many rejections, so many betrayals on my way up. So many times, I thought about giving up, but I couldn't, because I needed to give my family the kind of life I had. To Nani, who sold her jewelry for my education. To Mama, who put up the initial money for my business idea. To Mami, who loved me just as much as she loved Akash, even though I wasn't her own."
"And then you entered my life, transforming me, gradually revealing the gentler side of Arnav that I had long concealed. You unearthed a tenderness I thought I had buried forever." He offered a melancholy smile.
"Khushi, nothing I say can excuse how I've treated you. Absolutely nothing. My actions were harsh, and I deeply regret every moment of them. But there's no way to take them back. I've apologized before, yet I know that truly making amends is the only way I can show you how much you really mean to me." He squeezed her hand, which was intertwined with his.
"My pride, as always, got in the way. All I wanted was to see Arav happy, Khushi, without considering the fallout of my actions. You know I've always struggled with expressing my feelings. Yesterday afternoon, I found Arav by himself, crafting Diwali cards. When I asked him why, he shared that he used to make them for visitors at the orphanage to buy. It's his first Diwali outside the ashram, and he seemed so subdued. I just wanted to bring him joy, Khushi, to make him feel at home, because in so many ways, I see myself in him." His voice broke as he turned to face Khushi fully.
"Arnav-"
"Please, let me finish what I'm trying to say," he implored, gently holding both her hands in his.
"I would always wait for Papa around Diwali. I'd make cards for him and gather all my medals and certificates, saving them up to show him all at once because, as you know, he hardly ever had the time. Diwali was the one time of the year he'd actually stay home for a few days. I believed it would fill him with joy on such a special occasion. That then, he would spend time with me. That he would join me in lighting firecrackers, just like I had always dreamed."
Khushi looked at him, taken aback by his confession.
"The truth is, I despise firecrackers because I never got the opportunity to enjoy them with the people I love." He averted his gaze, a veil of sadness descending over his features.
"I couldn't bear the thought of Arav experiencing the loneliness and neglect I felt in my childhood. I wanted him to never doubt his place in our family, to ensure he felt nothing but happiness this Diwali with us. It's really as simple as that. I'm aware he acted out towards you, yet in that moment, the paternal instinct in me chose to see past his first mistake. I wanted to shower him with the kind of comforts he's never known before. Because he's my son, Khushi. And unlike my father, I needed to prove to myself that I would do everything in my power to spare him the pain I endured back then." His gaze locked onto her hazel eyes with earnest intensity. Before she could speak he cut her.
"In that instant, I lost sight of the fact that Arav isn't just my son—he's equally yours. He's our son. And your decision to stop him from eating those laddoos before the puja was correct. I failed to see that our debate over what was right and wrong suddenly shifted into an unnecessary argument. My intention was never to belittle you, Khushi. On the contrary, I've always admired your resilience and your commitment to supporting your family. However, your words challenged my pride, and I reacted in the way I'm all too familiar with—I lashed out, hurting you with words I never should have uttered." He turned his gaze away, remorse evident in his voice.
"Khushi, my love for you is deep and unwavering, but I'm well aware that love alone doesn't build the foundation of a lasting relationship. A truly strong relationship is built on five pillars: love, trust, loyalty, respect, and communication. My love for you is immense, but I admit, I've faltered in the other crucial areas."
"I've not trusted you when trust was due, allowing my doubts to overshadow my faith in you. I've wrongly placed my loyalty with my family over you at times when you should have been my priority. I've overstepped the boundaries of respect countless times—just last night being a glaring example. And communication, the very essence of sharing and understanding, has been where I've consistently fallen short. Despite your incredible capacity for empathy and understanding, I've failed to open up to you fully, to share my deepest feelings in the way you truly deserve."
"I am sincerely sorry, Khushi. I know words alone can't mend the hurt or erase the tears I've caused. But if they could, I wouldn't have waited this long to express my heartfelt regret for every single time I've been the reason for your sorrow."
"I realize I haven't been the best partner in the past, but I'm determined not to let that define me as a husband. I admit, I've struggled to show you my true worth, Khushi, but I'm committed to making things better. You deserve nothing but the best, and I want to be the one who gives that to you. Whether it means stepping back in areas you're more knowledgeable about, supporting your career choices wholeheartedly, or being the firmer parent to Arav when necessary because he looks up to me, I'm ready to take on those roles. I know I need to work on myself first—improve how I deal with things, my attitude, and my perspective on life. My past shouldn't overshadow Arav's future. We'll guide him together, showing him the right path by being the best versions of ourselves." He completed signing seeing her emotions reflecting in her hazel eyes.
"You've always had this incredible patience with me," he said, a warm smile spreading across his face as he gently held her face. "I'm really sorry for not being as understanding in return. I truly admire and respect you, Khushi, for everything you do for our family, for every small effort you put in to light up our lives with joy, and for every moment you make our lives a bit better. You're the reason I keep going every day. Without you, I'm just... not me. I rely on you, entirely. I can't even last a day without you by my side—you know that, and I know that. You're the reason I'm still here today; if it hadn't been for you saving me from those kidnappers, I wouldn't be here. I love you, Jaan. Please, say something."
"Why don't we just talk to each other, Arnav?" Khushi asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper as tears started to fill her eyes. "Why do we keep things, especially our pasts, so locked up from each other? Why aren't we sharing more, listening more? We're in love, yeah, but we barely scratch the surface of truly knowing each other. We're not even like best friends who share everything. We're not the person the other runs to first. It's like, whenever stuff gets tough, we just split and hide away. That's not how it's supposed to be, right? Why does it feel like we're constantly discovering basic stuff about each other that we should've known ages ago? I want to really know you, Arnav. And I want you to really know me. So we can get where the other is coming from better. I want to be the one you come to with anything, and I want to run to you when things get too much, because that's what being together means. Love isn't easy, sure. When our pasts creep in and mess with now and later, we need to figure it out together. Talking it out is how we fix things. Why aren't we doing that?" Her voice cracked a little, and she sniffed, her nose turning red as she tried not to cry.
"Please, don't cry." He gently wiped away her tears as they continued to stream down her face. "Let's make a pact to work on this, okay? We might have jumped into the deep end, taking on the responsibility of raising a 6-year-old so early in our marriage, but I believe we can navigate through this together. I'm truly sorry, Khushi, for all the times I've not given you the credit you deserve, for not even knowing what you studied. It weighs on me, this realization that I haven't been curious enough about you—"
"It's not just you," Khushi interjected, holding his hands against her cheeks, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I've also missed learning about many aspects of your life, Arnav. The difference is, I've always been eager to find out, to ask questions, whereas you didn't seek to know more about me."
"I didn't, and for that, I am deeply, deeply sorry," he said, his apology sincere and heartfelt, echoing the remorse that had been a constant in their conversation.
"Please, don't let this happen again. I need you to truly understand me, Arnav," she sobbed, drawing him in for a heartfelt embrace. "I want you to know me better than anyone else ever could. I need you by my side, every step of the way. My hope is to spend our lives together, learning from each other, growing together. I want us to build a future that's strong and bright, especially for Arav," she whispered, her words a soft plea.
"Believe me, Khushi, I want the same. Never again, I promise you. I swear I'll never let this happen again," he murmured, burying his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her presence. "I love you."
"I love you too," she said, a smile breaking through her tears as she gently wiped them away, her other hand softly stroking his hair. They collected themselves and stood up, a silent agreement passing between them. "Let's go eat," she said, her voice a mix of resolve and gentleness. She reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers, and together they walked downstairs, a united front once more.
"Really, the bun again?" he groaned, sparking a light laugh from her.
"Looks like we're really leaning into this whole 'honesty' thing," she teased, eyeing him as they sat down at the table.
"Please take it down Khushi." His plea was half-hearted, clearly more amused than annoyed now.
"Fine, I'll let my hair down after we eat," she conceded, serving up his favorites with a smile.
"Even when you're mad, you spoil me," he observed, clearly impressed and slightly amused by the spread in front of him.
"Turns out, now I have two finicky eaters at home," she quipped, a playful shrug accompanying her words.
"This isn't all just for me?" He tried to look sullen, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away.
"Nope, you're sharing the limelight with your son now, Mr. Raizada," she replied cheerfully. "He'll be home from school any minute," she noted, glancing at the clock with a smile.
""I need to discuss something else."
"Hmm?"
"What are you thinking about your career?" He asked, waiting eagerly, which made her look surprised.
"Arnav, honestly, I'm not thinking about that right now. I've got new things I need to take care of. I want to focus on them."
"Why are you only focusing on your responsibilities right now?" He couldn't believe it. "Khushi, you're young, you're married, and you have a child too, but that shouldn't stop you from chasing your dreams, okay? You've already done so much that many women in India aim for. You've got your own family to look after. But now it's time to think about what you want for yourself." He tried to help her understand.
"Arnav, I really appreciate you encouraging me to start working again, just like I've always wanted. But the family needs me right now. Arav needs me. Just yesterday, you were worried about him not feeling comfortable here. He needs to feel at home. He needs the kind of support only a mother can provide."
"I don't think that's entirely fair," he replied, trying to calm his nerves. "Yes, he needs his mom, but there are so many of us around to support him that you working a few hours really won't make a big difference at the start. We have a supportive family, Khushi. You're not doing this alone. I'm here, along with Di, Nani, Mami, and even NK. We're all here to support you."
"But-"
"Don't let your feelings stop you from reaching for your dreams, Khushi. You're young now, but someday our family will grow; it won't just be you, me, and Arav anymore. Then, you'll be too busy to start anything new. What if you end up regretting your choices? I believe you won't, but imagine if Arav discovers one day that he was the reason you didn't pursue your career? How would that make him feel? Do you think he'd be happy about it?"
Khushi was contemplative. "Arnav, I don't even know where to begin," she sighed.
"And what do you think I'm here for?" He took her hand in his.
"No, I don't want you launching an interior design business in my name. I can't handle that kind of pressure, please."
"I'm offering to invest because you have the talent, Khushi," he tried to persuade her, disliking the fact that she was hesitant to accept any financial help from him.
"I can't just use your money like that."
"It's not just my money, it's ours."
"I said no, Arnav. I appreciate your support, but not in financial terms. That's not happening." Her resolve was firm.
"Fine," he conceded, starting on his lunch. "By the way, ARD is moving to a new permanent location this year," he mentioned offhandedly.
"I remember, you mentioned it before."
"How about you design my office?" he asked casually, not looking up from his plate, but clearly feeling her intense gaze.
"Oh, so you couldn't find an interior designer, huh?" she teased.
"Okay, fine. I want you to design my office, Khushi," he admitted with a roll of his eyes.
"But why me?"
"Because you know me better than anyone. You understand my taste, what I like and dislike," he stated plainly.
"Right," she shook her head. "Arnav, you really don't need to do this."
"Do what exactly?" he met her glare.
"Look, even if you're starting from scratch, gaining experience is crucial, and you'll need projects for that. Why not take on my office as your first project? It's a great opportunity to learn and build your portfolio." He laid out his reasoning clearly. Khushi sighed. "Think about it okay??"
"I will, I promise," she smiled, offering him a glimmer of hope. "Besides, I might do it just because your taste is so uninspired." She teased, rolling her eyes and catching him by surprise.
"Excuse me?" Arnav feigned offense. "I'm trying to offer help here, and you're criticizing my choice of colors?" He shook his head, amused.
"You know it's true. Black can be so dull. Our bedroom is all black. It's just so somber and—"
"Alright, alright," he interjected, watching her expressions with amusement. "Then take on the bedroom," he challenged.
"Really??" Her eyes widened with excitement.
"Yes, before I rethink my decision," he sighed. "I trust you, just please don't turn my bedroom into a rainbow," he said with a smile.
"Our bedroom," she corrected with a joyful tear.
"Why do I have a feeling I might regret this?" He joked, earning a playful pinch on his arm.
"I won't let you down," she promised, her eyes sparkling with renewed energy, much to his delight. If it meant sacrificing his bedroom and his preferred color scheme, so be it. As long as she was engaging in what she loved, it would boost her confidence and help her make future career decisions.
"In that case, you're taking on my office as well, and I don't want to hear another word about it because Arav is back," he said with a smile, nodding for her to look behind as Arav entered the mansion with NK.
"Hi, Mom, Dad!" Arav's lively voice filled the dining room, surprising both Arnav and NK as he hugged Khushi from behind.
"How was your day?" She kissed his cheek, much to his mock annoyance.
"It was good, I aced the Hindi test."
"Oh, you did?" She beamed, pulling him in front of her. "I told you it wasn't so bad."
"Because you taught me," he grinned. "I got the highest in class." He handed her a rose. "Thanks, Ma."
Khushi felt a rush of emotions. Arav had called her 'Ma,' just the way she had always hoped. "You're welcome, sweetheart," she said, accepting the rose. "Now, go wash your hands. I've made your favorite dishes today."
"Wow, is that lasagna?" NK's interest peaked. "I'm starving." He rubbed his hands together and started to take his seat.
"Excuse me, wash your hands first," Khushi scolded, giving him that all-too-familiar glare.
"But I am—"
"Go." Arnav's stern look backed her up.
NK sighed. "Come on, champ, seems like I'm their child too." Arav chuckled as they both happily headed to wash their hands, following the couple's directive.
"He called you 'Ma,'" Arnav whispered to Khushi.
"He did," she replied, meeting his tender gaze. "Thank you, Arnav, for finally understanding me this time," she squeezed his hand.
"Thank you, for giving me the world," he responded warmly, kissing her palm.
The end
(4215 words)