Chapter 14 #2
For a long while, Arundhati had kept her body stiff, her back curved slightly inward to resist the overwhelming proximity of him.
Both her arms were bent at the elbows and pressed between her own chest and his, forming a tight, self-imposed barricade…
like one last shred of distance she could hold onto. She wasn’t ready to surrender fully.
Yet, she could feel his breath, hot against her forehead. His chest rose and fell against her palms between their bodies, his own breathing slower now, as if syncing with hers.
It wasn’t easy for him either. She felt the way his fingers lingered just a beat too long in places. There was a restraint etched across his every movement, as if he were reminding himself again and again that this was about comfort, not desire. He wasn’t taking advantage of her vulnerability.
Eventually, she ignored the nightie clinging scandalously to her thighs, ignored that he was shirtless, that their legs were tangled under three layers of blankets.
She ignored everything that had kept them apart over the past nine months.
She only remembered his warmth and the way his chest moved gently against her palms.
Minutes passed by, and finally her shivering eased.
He didn’t know when exactly it happened, but somewhere in between the silence and her quiet breathing, he felt her slip into sleep. Her body no longer trembled. She had melted into him.
Kushal exhaled in relief.
He had told her he would leave once she stopped shivering.
But even as he thought of those words, he knew he had no intention of honouring them.
He was not some legendary being to honour every word given, who would walk away from the one thing he had craved every damn night since she had left their home.
His wife was finally back in his arms.
And the world could burn tomorrow for all he cared.
He shifted ever so slightly, just enough to hold her more securely, and in that movement, something changed.
The arms she had stubbornly kept wedged between them for distance slowly loosened.
One arm slid behind his back. The other curled softly against his chest. Her body instinctively scooted closer, her leg brushing his under the duvet.
There was no tension now. Most importantly, no protest.
It wasn’t consent.
It was trust. Her trust in him.
A smile curved on Kushal’s lips, and he closed his eyes, brushing the gentlest kiss across her forehead without a sound, not wanting to wake her up.
The scent of her hair, the feel of her breath against his skin, the heat of her body finally given to him without war, this was everything he hadn’t even let himself admit he missed.
He didn’t care what she would say in the morning.
He didn’t care if she pushed him away again.
Tonight, for the first time in months, she had let him in.
And he wasn’t going to move.
Not until the morning light forced him to.
***************
Next Morning
Arundhati stirred awake first, to the light snore grazing her ear. Her lashes fluttered as consciousness returned, and immediately, she froze.
Kushal had spooned her from behind in sleep.
Her back was snug against his warm, muscular chest while his slow, steady breath ghosted over the nape of her neck.
His arm was curled firmly around her waist, one hand resting far too close to the edge of her nightie’s neckline, his fingers curled slightly, as if they’d shifted in sleep and forgotten their place.
His leg was draped over hers, their bodies tangled under layers of duvets and blankets that now felt too intimate.
This position was far too close. Far too... natural. Like their bodies remembered something their egos still refused to admit.
And worse? She had to admit that she hadn’t slept this peacefully in nine months.
She took a slow breath, gathering herself, realising that she didn’t want Kushal to wake up and see them like this. So close. Hence, she carefully lifted his arm from her waist and untangled his leg. One wrong move and he’d wake.
Just when she thought she had made it, her feet touching the floor, she felt it.
His grip on her wrist.
“You know,” came his sleep-laced voice, still hoarse from dreams, “it’s bad manners to sneak out of a man’s bed in the morning without a goodbye. It’s called a ‘morning-after escape,’ Arundhati. And it’s frowned upon.”
She turned slowly, faking an unimpressed expression, though her heart had already tripped over itself at the sound of his voice.
“Firstly,” she said, coolly, “don’t make it sound like this night was anything more than you functioning as my human heater. And secondly, what the hell are you still doing on my bed? You promised to leave once I was okay.”
He smirked, the kind that always made her want to smack or kiss him, depending on the mood.
Kushal sat up, propping himself against the headboard, sheets pooling around his waist.
“Firstly,” he echoed, “you should be grateful to me for saving you from turning into an icicle last night. And secondly, I was tired. I fell asleep. Deal with it.”
Her brow lifted in perfect disdain. “Huh! This is so convenient. You got exhausted? From what? Pulling one extra blanket?”
He folded his arms behind his head, stretching lazily as if he had no intention of getting up.
“You were tossing, shivering, biting your teeth half the night. I took all that like a champ. I deserve a trophy if not a thank you coming out from those… lips.” His gaze dropped to her parted lips before meeting her eyes again.
Arundhati felt something in the pit of her stomach.
“How about you deserve a door slammed on your face?” she muttered.
“And yet,” he said, this time his gaze trailing shamelessly from her messy hair to her flushed cheeks and then down to the hem of her still scandalously short nightie, “here we are. Again. Sharing the bed.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Not flattering. Just reminding,” he said smoothly, “that even if you think the marriage won’t work, I make a damn good heater.”
She grabbed the nearest pillow and chucked it at him, already heading for the bathroom, ignoring the grin that tugged at his lips as he watched her go.
God help her. This was going to be one hell of a time in Dalhousie.
Just then, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He picked it up without glancing at the screen. “Yes?”
The moment he heard the voice of his local contact in Dalhousie, he became serious. Arundhati, who was about to step into the bathroom, turned around and caught his expression shifting.
“She left?” he repeated, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean she left?”
Arundhati stilled. Kushal put the phone on speaker so that she too could listen.
“Sir, she left early this morning. Around 7 a.m. She’s joined one of those local sightseeing group packages. It’s a two-day tour, headed toward Khajjiar and Chamera Lake. It’s about a hundred kilometres from Dalhousie, give or take.”
“What the hell,” Arundhati muttered.
“She’s with a group. Mostly tourists. I’ve managed to get into the same package, posing as a solo traveller. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my distance. She hasn’t noticed anything so far.”
Kushal rubbed his temple.
“So she’s gone for two full days?”
“Yes, sir. The itinerary says they’ll stay overnight at a guest lodge and return to Dalhousie the day after tomorrow. I’ll keep tracking her movements and text you her updates every few hours.”
Kushal sighed sharply.
“Alright. Keep a low profile. Text me regular updates.” He disconnected and turned toward Arundhati with a look that confirmed what she already dreaded.
“She’s not returning for two days?” she asked, hands on her hips. “I can’t believe this.”
He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “The guy’s still on her, but looks like we’re stuck here till she returns.”
“No,” Arundhati said flatly, “we’re not just sitting here waiting around like retired old couples. We’ll go there and confront her directly.”
“Absolutely not,” he snorted. “Do you know how ridiculous that would look? We’d just keep chasing her from one location to another. She’ll get spooked, and the moment we corner her, she’ll clam up. We’ll lose the edge.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. For once, what he said made sense even if she hated that it did.
Before she could offer a reluctant nod, he got down from the bed and smirked. “Besides, it’s not a total loss. We never got to honeymoon, remember?”
Her glare could’ve frozen molten rock.
“If not a honeymoon, take this as a short break. After all, we barely ever took a real break. Between briefs, case files, and courtrooms, we’ve never had a moment to just… unwind.”
“Unwind?” she repeated. “That’s your plan for the next two days?”
He grinned, completely unapologetic.
“Exactly. So, let’s make an agenda. Let’s do some sightseeing together until Miss Noyonika Talwar shows up,” he suggested.
“No thanks. How about I make my own solo trip plan pretending you don’t exist?”
He rolled his eyes while she disappeared into the bathroom without another word.
But Kushal wasn’t done.
The moment he heard the water running, he reached for the room phone and dialled the reception. “Yes, hi. About the maintenance request from last night for the connecting door? Don’t bother. It’s fine now. No technician is needed. We’ll let you know if anything changes.”
“Very well, sir,” the receptionist replied cheerily.
He ended the call, smiling to himself.
Under no circumstance was he going to waste the next forty-eight hours. If fate had handed him this window, he was going to use it. To show her not what they had been, but what they could still become.