Chapter 4
Same Night – Arundhati’s Home
Arundhati paced across her kitchen, phone pressed to her ear, her brows furrowed as she listened to her junior lawyer, Akash, speak.
“You reminded Kushal about the trial date?” she asked, surprised.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Akash replied. “Just to see his reaction. I mean… to gauge how prepared he is.”
Arundhati rolled her eyes. Typical Akash. He was ambitious, eager to analyse everything, and despite his brilliance, still a bit na?ve when it came to handling someone like Kushal Nair.
“And? What did you analyse?” she asked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Well… he wasn’t in a good mood, that’s for sure,” Akash admitted with a chuckle. “Told me not to remind him of his dates again. He actually sounded surprised that the trial is the day after tomorrow.”
“Surprised?” she repeated. Something in her chest fluttered but she ignored it.
“Yes,” Akash said. “Which means he hasn’t been preparing much. That works in our favour, doesn’t it? If he’s unprepared, we have a better shot at presenting all our arguments clearly before the judge.”
Arundhati let out a short, humourless laugh.
“Don’t make the mistake of taking Kushal lightly,” she warned. “He’s the best for a reason. Even if he doesn’t prepare, he’ll still find a way to turn everything in his favour.”
Akash chuckled again.
“What’s so funny?” she snapped.
“It’s just… how can you speak so well about him when you’re about to divorce him?”
Arundhati’s grip on the phone tightened.
“Only because someone is good at something doesn’t mean they are good at everything. Kushal maybe the best divorce lawyer the country has, but he, as the best husband, is surely debatable.”
“Ah,” Akash hummed in understanding. “I get it now. Anyway, I won’t take up more of your time, Ma’am. See you tomorrow.”
She muttered a quick goodbye before disconnecting the call and tossing her phone onto the bed.
Her gaze unintentionally drifted toward the mirror at the dressing table.
And that’s when she saw it. The scar on her forehead.
Faint but still very much there. A reminder of what had happened outside Verma & Associates this morning.
Her fingers brushed over it as she recalled Kushal’s entry into that situation.
How he snapped at those protestors and warned them.
How his hands had gripped her shoulders, pulling her into his arms, shielding her.
At that moment, he hadn’t just been her soon-to-be ex-husband.
He had been the man who had protected her without a second thought.
She had seen the rage in his eyes, a protectiveness so fierce, so instinctual, it had shaken her.
And worse?
She had felt it.
The way his body had pressed against hers. The way his breath had brushed against her temple, the way his hands had held her as if letting go wasn’t an option.
And for a just a fleeting, forbidden second, her body had remembered what it felt like being this close to him.
The five months they had lived together as husband and wife.
The times when he had walked past her after a shower, his hair damp, droplets still clinging to the sharp edges of his jaw.
The scent of his aftershave, dark and rich, would linger in the air, messing with her focus when she was buried in case files.
And the kisses.
The ones that had left her heart slamming against her ribs, the ones that had made her question everything she thought she knew about their marriage.
Kisses that lingered even after he had pulled away.
Arundhati inhaled sharply, shoving those thoughts away.
No.
She was angry at herself.
Angry that amidst all the chaos, amidst the protestors, the courtroom battles, and the fight to end this marriage, her mind had still betrayed her, dragging her back to a past she wanted to forget.
She wasn’t na?ve. She knew Kushal cared on some level.
But care didn’t erase the past.
It didn’t erase the reason she was divorcing him.
Kushal Nair had married her for Verma & Associates.
And that, she would never forgive.
Just then, her phone rang again. This time, it was her uncle Raj Verma. She instantly answered.
“Hello, Uncle.”
“Aru, did you take your painkillers?” Raj Verma’s deep voice came through the receiver.
Arundhati exhaled. “I’m fine without them, Uncle. The pain is almost gone. It’s just a scar now.”
“A scar on the outside doesn’t mean you’re completely healed. What if you get headaches at night?”
“Then I’ll deal with it.”
“Aru…”
“Uncle,” she cut in, a small smile playing on her lips, “I appreciate your concern, but stop worrying so much. I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”
Raj sighed heavily. “It shouldn’t have happened at all. But I’m glad Kushal stepped in at the right time.”
There was a brief silence as he paused, recalling that Arundhati didn’t like discussing Kushal or their marriage besides professional reasons. Arundhati returned to her bedroom, sat on the bed, leaning her back against the headboard, and stared at the ceiling.
“The trial is the day after tomorrow,” she said after a long pause.
“I remember,” Raj sighed. “And you’re still set on calling me as a witness?”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Yes.”
Raj was silent for a moment, then let out a heavy breath. “Aru... I don’t want this. You’re not just my niece, you know that,” Raj continued. “You’re my daughter in every way that matters. And I hate seeing you go through this.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want to stand in court, between you and Kushal, watching your marriage being dragged into legal arguments.”
She closed her eyes, fighting the exhaustion that wasn’t just physical.
“It’s too late for any repair, Uncle. This was over the moment Kushal’s true reasons for holding onto this marriage surfaced before me.”
“Aru, you’re being too hasty. Don’t you think you’re taking things too fast? You and Kushal just need to sit down calmly and talk. Just the two of you. Without your lawyers’ minds, without the case, without the past accusations.”
Her eyes snapped open.
“Talk?” she repeated, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. “Uncle, haven’t you and I talked about this a hundred times? What more is left to say?”
“That there might still be a way to fix this.”
“There isn’t.”
“How can you be so sure?”
She gritted her teeth, sitting up straighter. “Because I know him, Uncle. And because I know myself. There’s nothing left to try now.”
Raj didn’t respond immediately. But when he finally spoke, his voice was almost sad.
“I’ve seen you both, Aru. You may not have had love in the way most couples do, but there was something.”
“Maybe once,” she admitted, staring at the empty space beside her on the bed. “But whatever it was, it’s gone now.”
“You’re just being stubborn.”
“I’m being stubborn?” she snapped. “Have you seen your golden boy, Kushal, and the way he treats me at work? Ignores me like I don’t exist half the time?”
“Have you ever asked him why?”
She froze.
“If he truly didn’t care,” Raj continued, “he would have agreed to the divorce and moved on. But he hasn’t. And that should tell you something.”
“It tells me he’s stubborn and arrogant and refuses to lose.”
“Or maybe,” Raj said quietly, “it tells you that this isn’t as dead as you think it is.”
Arundhati shut her eyes, gripping the phone tighter.
“Uncle, please… don’t do this.”
Raj sighed. “I just want you to think, Aru. Just once. If you and Kushal really wanted nothing to do with each other anymore, would you still be fighting this hard?”
The question hung between them, heavier than before.
Arundhati closed her eyes, forcing the truth away as Raj asked again. “Is that really what you want, Aru?”
“Yes.”
Another long pause. Her throat felt tight.
“Aru—”
“Good night, Uncle.” She said firmly, disconnecting the call before he could say anything else.
Arundhati placed her phone on the bedside table. No matter what her uncle said, no matter what the past had been, she wasn’t going back.
****************
Family Court – First Trial Date (Two days Later)
The courtroom was busy. Although the press had been barred from entering, that didn’t stop the whispers, the hushed excitement from the legal circles who had gathered to witness the divorce battle between Arundhati and Kushal Nair.
It was, after all, a case unlike any other.
Two of the country’s most ruthless and sharp-minded divorce lawyers, who had torn apart marriages for a living, were now facing off against each other in their own divorce.
And everyone wanted to see who would win.
Dressed in a pristine white shirt, neatly tucked into tailored black trousers, and a perfectly fitted black lawyer’s coat, Arundhati stepped into the courtroom. Her long raven-black hair was secured in an elegant twist, her sharp kohl-lined eyes focused straight ahead.
She had done this countless times before: walked into a courtroom, demanded attention without a single word, and commanded respect.
But today was different. Today, she was the one standing on trial.
And the man she was fighting against was none other than her own husband.
Or at least, the man who refused to stop being her husband.
She ignored the curious stares, the murmurs that rose in the background.
She didn’t care about the audience.
She didn’t care about the fact that half of them expected this to turn into the most explosive divorce trial in recent history.
She only cared about one thing—winning.
Reaching her designated seat at the petitioner’s table, she placed her case files down.
And then, as if on instinct, her eyes flickered toward the entrance. She shouldn’t have looked.
But she did.
The doors swung open, and in walked the man who had perfected the art of making an entrance. Kushal Nair.
Dressed in his crisp white shirt, a black waistcoat beneath his perfectly tailored black lawyer’s coat, and slim black trousers, he looked as effortlessly commanding as ever.