Chapter 4 #2
Kushal’s gaze swept across the room as he moved inside with his signature self-assured arrogance, until his eyes landed on her.
And for a fraction of a second, he paused.
Arundhati refused to react. She turned her focus back to the judge’s seat, but she could feel his eyes still on her.
A second later, when she dared to steal one glance back at him, to her absolute irritation, he wasn’t looking at her anymore.
He had already moved past her, settling into his seat at the respondent’s table.
“All rise.”
The room stood as the judge entered, and all the murmurs died down. The judge settled in his chair, flipping through the case file before glancing up.
“This court is now in session. We are here to hear the case of Arundhati Nair versus Kushal Nair. The petitioner, Mrs. Nair, has filed for divorce on the grounds of a marriage of convenience, lack of emotional commitment, and irretrievable breakdown of the relationship. The respondent, Mr. Nair, contests the divorce and claims the marriage is still salvageable.”
Judge Mehta continued, looking between both parties.
“Before we proceed with the evidence and witness testimonies, we will begin with opening statements. Mrs. Nair, as the petitioner, you may proceed first.”
Arundhati rose to her feet.
“Your Honour, my marriage to Mr. Nair was built on professional convenience rather than personal commitment. It was a decision influenced by his career prospects, and by expectations that had nothing to do with mutual understanding or emotional compatibility.”
She cast a brief glance at Kushal, who was watching her with a maddeningly unreadable expression.
“While I tried to give this marriage a fair chance, it was only after 4-5 months that I got to know why he married me in the first place – for his interest in Verma & Associates law firm. It became evident that it was nothing more than a professional arrangement. Love, companionship, and the foundation of a real marriage were never present. And without that foundation, this marriage is not just unhappy, it is untenable.”
She turned back to the judge.
“Mr. Nair, despite all of this, has refused to sign the divorce papers, dragging out a marriage that has long since ceased to exist. It’s already been nine months since we have been living separately.
Today, I will establish that this marriage was never one of genuine commitment and that there is no hope for reconciliation.
I request this honourable court to grant me the divorce so that we can both move forward independently. ”
With that, she returned to her seat, her heart steady but her blood simmering.
Kushal rose from his seat.
“Your Honour,” he began, “my wife believes that our marriage was built solely on convenience. That there was never anything more to it. That it was a decision made only in the interest of our careers and futures, rather than emotions.”
He let the words sink in, then tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering to Arundhati.
“And yet,” he continued, voice dropping just a notch lower, “she spent five months as my wife. Lived in my house. Sat across from me at dinner. Shared my space. And even today, after everything, when I walked into this courtroom, she still looked at me first.”
The room stilled.
Arundhati sucked in a sharp breath, anger flaring in her veins as Kushal turned back to the judge.
“My wife has some serious misunderstandings and one-sided beliefs that this marriage is beyond repair. While I don’t claim our marriage was perfect, I refuse to accept that it was nothing at all.
I contest this divorce because I believe that walking away from something without fully understanding what it could have been is a mistake.
And if my wife is so certain this marriage is beyond repair, I ask her to prove it with more than just words. ”
With that, he took his seat.
The judge nodded.
“Very well. We will now proceed with the petitioner’s case. Mrs. Nair, you may call your first witness.”
Arundhati inhaled deeply, forcing her focus back into place.
“Your Honour, I would like to call my first witness to the stand—Mr. Raj Verma.”
A ripple of interest spread across the courtroom.
From his seat, Kushal smirked.
But he said nothing.
Raj Verma entered and took the stand, adjusting his suit as he faced the courtroom.
Arundhati stepped forward.
“Mr. Verma, you have been a key part of both my life and my professional journey. Would you agree?”
“Of course,” Raj Verma replied.
“And you were also the one who suggested my marriage to Mr. Kushal Nair?”
“Yes.”
Arundhati nodded. “Could you tell the court why?”
Raj Verma hesitated for a moment before answering. “I believed Kushal was the right partner for you, not just personally, but professionally. He is one of the best lawyers this firm has seen. I trust him. And I wanted someone strong enough to stand beside you.”
A small victory flickered in Arundhati’s eyes.
“So, in other words,” she pressed, “you saw our marriage as an arrangement that benefited Verma & Associates?”
Raj exhaled. “I saw it as a partnership that could help both of you grow together.”
Arundhati turned to the judge. “Your Honour, this confirms that my marriage was based on strategic interests rather than personal commitment. Although my uncle Raj Verma had the right intentions, we cannot miss the fact that Kushal Nair had his own reasons that benefited him far more than they ever benefited me as a wife.”
She looked at Kushal then, her eyes burning with unspoken emotions.
“This was never about love.”
For the first time since the hearing started, Kushal moved.
He straightened in his chair, and then, slowly rose to his feet.
“Your Honour,” he said, “if Arundhati Nair is done spinning her version of events, I’d like to cross-examine the witness.”
The judge gestured for him to proceed.
Kushal took his time approaching the stand confidently, like a man who already knew he had the upper hand.
“Mr. Verma, you just stated that you proposed this marriage because you believed I was the right partner for your niece, both personally and professionally. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” Raj confirmed.
“Tell me, Sir,” Kushal continued, his smirk deepening, “did you ever, at any point, force Arundhati into this marriage?”
Raj frowned. “No, of course not.”
“Did you ever tell her that she had no choice but to marry me?”
“No.”
Kushal turned, his gaze locking onto Arundhati, his smirk widening at the flash of irritation in her eyes.
“So, Mrs. Nair,” he drawled, “you willingly agreed to marry me, correct?”
Her jaw clenched. “I agreed because my uncle—”
“Your uncle didn’t force you,” Kushal cut in smoothly. “So let’s keep emotions out of this, sweetheart. You had a choice, and you made it.”
The way he said sweetheart, that too in the courtroom, made her blood boil.
“Don’t twist my words, Kushal,” she snapped.
His eyes darkened, and he took a step closer. “Oh, I don’t need to twist your words. I just need the court to see the truth.”
He turned back to Raj.
“Tell me, Sir, did I join Verma & Associates before or after this marriage?”
“Before,” Raj confirmed.
Kushal smiled. “And in all those years before I married Arundhati, had I not already proven my capabilities? Had I not already been handling high-profile cases, winning them, building this firm’s reputation?”
“You had,” Raj agreed.
Kushal faced the judge. “Your Honour, my success in Verma & Associates had nothing to do with my marriage. I was already rising in this firm because of my skills.”
The courtroom buzzed.
Kushal wasn’t just defending himself, he was attacking Arundhati’s entire argument.
“Mrs. Nair claims I married her for power. But power doesn’t require a marriage certificate, Your Honour.
If my intention was only to be at the top, I would have let her go the moment she filed for divorce and still be the best in Raj Verma’s eyes to make him choose me as the next eligible heir to take Verma & Associates to newer heights. ”
His eyes flickered toward her.
“But I didn’t. Because this marriage is more than just a convenience.”
Arundhati’s nostrils flared.
He was manipulating the entire situation, making it look like she was the one desperate to run away.
“Your Honour,” she cut in, seething, “Mr. Nair is using theatrics to justify a marriage that was built on nothing but personal gain.”
She turned toward the judge.
“If Mr. Nair is so concerned about this marriage and wants it to work, then his actions and behaviour should reflect that. But they don’t. Professionally, we work under the same roof, yet he doesn’t even acknowledge my presence when we are in the same room.”
The courtroom fell silent.
Kushal smirked.
“There are no signs of warmth in his behaviour, no signs of reconciliation. If anything, his treatment of me has been nothing but cold indifference. If this marriage truly means anything to him, why is his attitude toward me one of complete dismissal?”
She turned, her eyes locking onto his, challenging him.
“I have witnesses who can testify to this. Colleagues who have seen how he ignores me as if I don’t exist. His actions clearly prove that he has nothing to do with this marriage on an emotional level. The only thing he wants is Verma & Associates.”
A murmur rippled through the room. Kushal’s eyes darkened, then he smirked again.
“Your Honour, I had no idea my wife’s biggest complaint was that I don’t look at her enough. If I’d known, I would’ve stared at her more often… maybe even sent her flowers.”
Laughter erupted across the courtroom.
Even the court clerks exchanged amused glances.
Arundhati’s face burned with fury.
The judge slammed the gavel.
“Order! Order in the court!”
The murmurs and chuckles instantly died down, but Kushal, being Kushal, wasn’t done yet.
“Your Honour,” he said smoothly, “I find it rather ironic that my wife, who has had me blocked for nine months, now claims that I have been distant. She shut down every possible way for us to communicate. Calls, texts—nothing got through. It’s not that I ignored her, it’s that she ensured I couldn’t reach her at all. ”
Arundhati shook her head in frustration.
The nerve of him!
He glanced at her then, the smirk playing at his lips infuriatingly present.
“Now that she has finally unblocked my number, it’s only because we are currently handling a case together. And yet, she stands here, arguing that I have kept my distance?” He turned back to the judge. “Tell me, Your Honour, what exactly was I supposed to do? Send smoke signals?”
A fresh wave of muffled chuckles rippled through the room.
Arundhati’s blood simmered.
“You are twisting my words, Mr. Nair,” she snapped.
Kushal merely lifted an eyebrow.
“Am I? Or are you simply dragging this matter out instead of actually talking about it? If this marriage was so beyond repair, then why avoid a simple conversation? Why not settle this in private, without turning it into a legal spectacle?”
Judge Mehta exhaled, clearly unimpressed by their ongoing battle.
“Enough,” he stated firmly. “This court is not a battlefield for personal grievances. If there are unresolved matters between the two of you, you may discuss them outside these walls. Now, Mrs. Nair, if you wish to bring more witnesses, be prepared for the next hearing. Until then, this case will remain under further consideration.”
The gavel came down again, marking the end of the session.
Arundhati exhaled sharply as she turned to Kushal again who simply smiled. As if he had already won something.
As the crowd began filing out of the courtroom, Kushal took his time, watching her like a predator who wasn’t done playing with his prey. And then, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them.
“That was a good attempt,” he murmured, voice teasing. “But next time? Try harder.”
She turned sharply, their faces inches apart, tension crackling between them like an open flame. She tilted her chin defiantly.
“You and I both know you want Verma & Associates.”
“And you…” He interrupted, looking intensely in her eyes.
She swallowed, unable to gauge the meaning behind his words. Kushal only moved closer. Ignoring the cameras flashing from the courtroom windows and doors, he closed the space between them until she could feel the heat radiating off him, wrapping around her like a slow, suffocating pull.
His gaze flickered to her lips, just for half a second, before it returned to her eyes.
“I want both,” he said, undeniably confident of what he was declaring. “Verma & Associates—because I damn well deserve to be its head in the future.”
His fingers brushed against hers, subtle, fleeting, but enough to send a sharp jolt through her veins.
“And you as my wife…” His eyes darkened, burning into hers, his smirk turning into something even more sinful. “Because you, sweetheart, are far too good for my ego to let go.”
“That’s never going to happen.”
Kushal simply grinned.
“We’ll see.”
And just like that, he walked away, leaving behind a woman who was ready to burn him alive for his sheer overconfidence.