Chapter 15
Dalhousie – Hotel
Couples milled around the buffet at the breakfast lounge of the resort. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and crisp parathas lingered in the air.
Kushal sat at a corner table, already halfway through his coffee.
He hadn’t expected to invite Arundhati to come down with him and have breakfast together.
Last night, when he had opened up about how he hated eating alone since childhood, and how it hurt even more after she left, she had brushed it off as one of his manipulative tricks.
That had stung more than he’d admit. For once, he had tried to speak from the heart, to share something real with someone he had once called his own.
But not anymore. Maybe Arundhati would need time to understand what that meant to him.
Until then, he had decided not to bring it up again.
And yet, there she was.
Arundhati walked in, effortlessly elegant even in her casual travel sweatshirt and fitted jeans.
Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, loose strands brushing her cheek.
She didn’t look at him immediately, nor did she offer a greeting.
She simply walked to the buffet, filled her plate, then crossed the room and sat down at the same table without asking.
Kushal didn’t say a word, but his gaze followed her like a magnet. They ate in silence for a few minutes, tension simmering between stolen glances and shared steam from their coffee mugs. That’s when her phone rang.
It was Raj Verma.
“Morning, Uncle,” she said, dabbing her mouth. “No, we haven’t met Noyonika yet... Why? Didn’t your golden boy update you?”
Kushal didn’t even look up.
“He hasn’t called since last night,” Raj replied.
“She’s on a two-day group trip around Dalhousie,” Arundhati said. “So, we’re stuck here until she returns.”
Raj laughed on the other end. “That’s surprising. Usually, Kushal gives me updates even before I ask. Looks like someone is keeping him occupied this time.”
Her eyes lifted slowly to Kushal, who was now stabbing a piece of paneer paratha with his fork, his gaze meeting hers. Last night, Kushal was indeed busy. Her sudden shivering and cold had kept him busy… with her. Same bed!
“Anyway,” Raj’s voice broke their trance. “I’m glad you both are getting a break. You two needed it.”
Before she could reply, Kushal leaned forward and, without bothering, held the fork in front of her lips.
She opened her mouth without thinking, still half-immersed in the phone call, and let him feed her.
It was only once she’d chewed and swallowed the bite that she blinked and realised what had just happened. Her eyes darted to his.
“Uncle, I’ll call you back,” she said quickly, and disconnected the call.
“Really?” she said, glaring at him as she reached for her own fork. “You don’t have to feed me.”
He didn’t even flinch. “You were too busy on the phone, and the parathas were getting cold. I figured you were hungry, so I fed you.”
She scowled.
“And relax,” he added, chewing with casual indifference, “it’s not like feeding you one piece of paratha is going to melt you or suddenly make you change your mind about our marriage, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “I know how good you are with words. But please, don’t try your lawyer-style manipulation on me. You forget, your wife is a lawyer too.”
He wiped his lips slowly with the napkin, leaned back, and looked at her with a glint in his eyes that sent unwelcome heat crawling up her neck.
“Now why are you smirking like that?”
“It’s just... nice to hear you admit you’re still my wife,” he replied. “Doesn’t happen often these days, does it?”
His gaze dropped just for a beat before meeting hers again, deeper this time.
“It reminds me…you’re still mine,” he added.
That last word wasn’t loud, but it landed hard.
Arundhati swallowed. Her legs shifted under the table. One thigh rubbed against the other, nervous and irritated.
She looked away, picking up her coffee with controlled grace.
He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t need to.
Arundhati took a few seconds before she again turned to him, her fingers lightly circling the rim of her coffee cup. “I’m sorry for last night,” she said.
Kushal looked up, brow arched in mock confusion.
“Which part of last night?” he asked. “Are you sorry for cuddling my jacket like a teddy bear on your bed? Or for wearing that scandalously short nightie when you opened the connecting door? For breaking the doorknob? Or... for not stopping yourself from spooning me all night like your life depended on it? Because that, Aru, made it very hard to sleep without having a thousand not-so-innocent thoughts about what else I’d like to do with you. .. beyond just hugging.”
Her entire body flushed.
The heat shot up her neck and bloomed across her cheeks as every scene he mentioned played out in her mind again.
His jacket wrapped around her like a second skin, his breath warming her neck, his arms anchoring her as she sank into sleep.
And God help her, she did remember all too well that she had clung to him. All night.
The server arrived, breaking the moment, she had no idea how to recover from. “Ma’am, sir, the live counters close in fifteen minutes. Would you like anything else?”
“No, thank you,” Arundhati answered, too quickly. The server smiled and walked away.
She took a breath and met Kushal’s eyes again.
“I was apologising... for what happened last night during dinner. For what I said. About you playing the victim card. You were just… sharing something real. And I couldn’t handle it.
I snapped. I was unfair, and I knew it the moment I said it—” she faltered, her eyes dropped to her plate, as if afraid to see how much it had affected him. “I was cruel. Please… forgive me.”
For a beat, he said nothing. The teasing was gone. So was the usual smirk. He reached for his glass, took a sip of water, and finally nodded.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll forgive you.”
She exhaled, but it didn’t last long.
“On one condition.”
She rolled her eyes. “I should’ve known.”
He leaned forward, pushing his elbows on the table. “First, tell me why my jacket was on your bed last night before I walked in?”
Her jaw dropped.
“Don’t say it was random,” he went on. “You were curled into it like it was me. Were you missing me, Aru?”
“Kushal…” she warned, but her eyes betrayed the flutter inside her chest.
But he wasn’t done. He moved in a little closer, not touching, but close enough for her skin to react.
“And I’ve one more complaint,” he murmured, eyes locked to hers. “Why the hell didn’t you wear nighties like that when we were actually living together? You know what that thing did to me last night?”
Her lips parted; her breath caught. She couldn’t handle more. Not at this moment. She abruptly stood, needing space. Needing air.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered, barely above a whisper, then turned and walked away without looking back.
Behind her, Kushal rose with ease, a lazy grin spreading across his face. He didn’t hurry. He didn’t call out.
He just followed her, like she knew he would.
They were just crossing the resort’s plush lobby when the front desk manager intercepted them with a cheerful smile.
“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Nair,” she greeted, holding a cream envelope in her hand. “I hope you two newlyweds are enjoying your honeymoon here.”
Arundhati stilled mid-stride, a bit stiffened at the greeting. Kushal, however, stood beside her like he belonged there, by her side. As if they really were the picture-perfect honeymoon couple, the woman believed them to be.
The manager extended the envelope with a gentle nod.
“We’re hosting a special evening tomorrow evening for our honeymoon guests. Just two hours—light-hearted couple activities in the garden, a bonfire, music, games, maybe even a little dancing if the mood’s right. It’s fun, and many of our guests find it… memorable.”
Arundhati accepted the envelope, already shaking her head. “Thank you, but no. I don’t think we’ll be attending.”
The manager blinked. “Oh, but it’s nothing too involved. Just a bit of fun. It’s really popular. We’ve even got a few couple challenges. Nothing too cheesy, I promise.” She laughed lightly. “It’s designed to bring couples closer, in the most playful way.”
“I appreciate that,” Arundhati said, with a nod. “But we’re not interested.”
The manager hesitated, glancing at Kushal, who hadn’t said a word yet. Then she smiled again, trying. “We only have a few slots left. I’d hate for you to miss out on such a lovely evening. It really adds to the honeymoon experience—”
“Thank you,” Arundhati repeated, sharper this time. “We’ll pass.”
But Kushal?
He was faster. He smoothly wrapped an arm around Arundhati’s waist.
“Actually, don’t mind, we’d love to come,” he said warmly, pulling her a touch closer, “but my wife’s an early sleeper. You know, she burns out quickly if she’s too active. Which would be a shame, considering how much... energy we’ll still need after the bonfire.”
“Kushal—” Arundhati looked at him in a warning.
“What? I’m just being honest. You do need your beauty sleep... unless, of course, the games are too much for you to handle?”
That did it.
Her pride snapped to attention.
She looked at the manager, who stood awkwardly between them. “We’ll be there,” Arundhati said, voice sugar-sweet but eyes blazing.
The manager lit up. “You sure, Ma’am?”
“Absolutely,” Arundhati smiled.
“Oh, wonderful! I’ll confirm your names on the list right away.”
The moment she disappeared, Arundhati turned on Kushal, who was already smirking like the devil after sealing a deal. “You do realise it’s a couple’s event, right?” he asked.
“Yes, I realised that the moment she handed you that damn envelope. But what I don’t realise is why you were so interested in proving to her that I am an early sleeper needing my beauty sleep. You know that’s not true.”