Chapter 15 #2
“That’s because I’m just too good,” he said, leaning in. “Scratch your ego, and you’ll do anything to win, even if it means dancing by bonfire light with your husband.
She clenched her jaw, already regretting giving him the satisfaction.
“These days, you’re becoming dangerously predictable, Aru. It’s way too easy now to get you to do what I want. Just challenge your pride a little, and bam…there you are, right where I want you.”
She scowled, realising with horror that he was right. Her need to one-up him had played right into his hands. Again.
“Thanks for the heads-up,” she snapped. “I’ll remember that the next time you try to outsmart me.”
“Looking forward to it,” he said, hands in his pockets, watching her storm ahead.
As she disappeared around the corridor, Kushal’s phone buzzed.
“Any update on those call logs from Noyonika’s number last month?” he asked his source, who was digging some information related to Noyonika’s connection with Sadhna.
“The call records of Noyonika would be in your inbox by morning,” the source replied.
“Good,” he said. “I’m convinced Sadhna got in touch with her, and maybe even paid her for that media interview. I just need one thread to pull, some evidence to prove this.”
“On it, Sir,” the source replied. “Will call you once I email.”
Kushal ended the call.
***************
Late Afternoon – Outdoor swimming pool
Arundhati sat on the edge of the pool, her legs dipped into the still water as she tried reading a book that rested in her lap.
But her thoughts weren’t on the page. She needed silence and space, away from the cosy warmth of the indoor pool where honeymooning couples giggled and posed for pictures, and away from the man who was lately everywhere.
Kushal was in the room, on a work call, and hence she hadn’t bothered to tell him where she was heading. This outdoor pool was deserted and perfect for Arundhati to get her time alone to think over everything that had been happening in her life.
Something was changing between them, and far too fast.
A sudden gust of breeze brushed across her cheeks, stirring the strands of hair loose around her face. It was a sign she had recently realised she felt whenever he was around.
She looked up only to find Kushal walking toward the pool like the sun had shifted to spotlight only him.
Black swim shorts rode low on his hips, water bottle swinging carelessly in one hand, ruffled hair that looked like he’d just rolled out of bed.
And although he offered her only the briefest glance, it scorched her skin.
But she knew his eyes had mapped every inch of her in that single second.
She shifted slightly, her book forgotten in her lap.
The soft wool-blend wrap dress she wore clung to her thighs, the hem riding up just enough to bare her long legs above the knees.
She hadn’t realised how high it had slid when she dipped her feet in.
Or maybe, subconsciously, she had. The fabric was cosy, but light enough to catch the breeze, leaving her arms and legs kissed by the sun.
Her heart gave an infuriating little flutter when he reached the lounger.
Without a word, Kushal tossed his towel and then peeled his T-shirt off in one fluid motion.
The kind of motion that made time stall.
Her gaze, despite every ounce of resistance, followed the stretch of his muscles, and she swallowed hard before he dove into the water.
“Are you mad?” she yelled at him, a bit startled. “The water’s freezing!”
He surfaced, swimming straight toward her, then stopped, floating right in front of her.
“With your legs in it,” he murmured, “how can it be cold anymore?”
His eyes dropped briefly to her exposed thighs, the soft hem of her wrap dress clinging to damp skin, “I’m not used to seeing you like this.”
Arundhati was speechless again.
“Back in Delhi, you’re always in power suits and dresses. All covered. But this?” His gaze lingered, unapologetically slow. “You’ve clearly packed a hotter collection than I imagined. Enough to make a man forget how to breathe.”
Goosebumps rose not from the breeze but from his words, his voice, and the way he saw her.
“Get your breathing in check,” she muttered. “Your flirting won’t fix what’s broken, and it sure as hell won’t win me back.”
He smirked. “I don’t flirt to win, Aru. I flirt because you still respond.”
Then he was gone…swimming through the water again, leaving her flustered and furious all at once.
For the next few minutes, Arundhati sat motionless, her book open but unread.
Because her eyes, had a mind of their own.
They tracked him. Every glide. Every ripple.
Every slow, twist of his torso as he floated effortlessly in the water in front of her, bare-chested, his arms extended slightly to stay afloat, the glistening droplets trailing down his shoulders and disappearing into the water.
He looked so content. Damp hair pushed back, and that infuriatingly relaxed grin curving his lips, like he knew exactly what he was doing to her pulse.
Suddenly, memories of their marriage days rushed in.
Kushal always preferred cold water baths. Even in the chill of Delhi winters, he stood under freezing showers like they were nothing. She, on the other hand, loved the warmth of hot tubs, the hush of warm water lapping around her body.
One night, early in their marriage, she’d come home exhausted only to find their bathroom transformed.
The bathtub was filled, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air, soft jazz playing from a speaker he’d set up near the mirror.
Candles flickered across the tiled walls.
A glass of wine perched on the corner ledge, waiting.
She’d stood there stunned.
When she turned around, he was leaning against the doorway, proud and playful. When she thanked him immediately for his efforts and consideration and asked him to leave so that she could enjoy her bath, he grinned.
“That tub’s got room for two,” he said. “And I was thinking, if I soak with you, I might convert. Even cold-water lovers change sides for the right incentive.”
She’d rolled her eyes, pretending to scowl. “Get out, Kushal.”
But he hadn’t moved. She had to push him out eventually.
But that night, for longer than she cared to admit, she’d wanted him to stay.
Wanted to let him slide in behind her, let his hands wander.
Let him trace every inch of her submerged skin until water and touch became indistinguishable. Yet, she had resisted. Barely.
Now, watching him float effortlessly in front of her again, bare-chested, chilled, radiant with that same teasing charm, she cursed her memory for remembering so vividly. And her body for responding.
Suddenly, Kushal swam up again, stopping near her knees with casual ease.
“By the way, I have a confession to make,” he said too casually.
She didn’t glance at him right away, feigning interest in the paragraph she hadn’t read a word of.
“Is it something I care to know?” she finally asked, arching an eyebrow.
He smirked, as if expecting exactly that response. “Probably not. But I’m saying it anyway.”
She sighed and closed the book, waiting to hear his confession.
“I’ve been thinking,” he began, treading water now, deliberately staying just out of reach of her legs. “You were right.” His eyes sparkled with the devil’s own glee. He let a beat pass before continuing. “Even if you’ve lost weight… you’ve still got it exactly where it counts.”
She stared at him, scandalised. “What the hell—”
But before the rest of her sentence could form, he turned in one graceful move and began swimming away, taking a long, slow lap to the far end of the pool like he hadn’t just delivered a verbal grenade and detonated it at her feet.
Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. He was definitely talking about last night when he had the chance to map every inch of her body, in the dark, under those blankets, while warming her up. Damn!
She clutched her book, trying to smother the way her skin burned under her dress. Kushal reached the other end of the pool and turned around. When their eyes met again, he winked.
The man was impossible.
And she was officially losing her mind.
*****************
Same Night
They had ordered room service for dinner. And although Kushal hadn’t invited himself, Arundhati had surprised them both by doing it. She’d simply called through the connecting door, saying she had ordered for the two. He hadn’t argued.
Over paneer tikka and warm rotis, they’d discussed the Sadhna–Anant case and even planned to frame the narrative around emotional misconduct.
To use the leaked pictures, Noyonika’s statement, and any link they could find to suggest Sadhna had deliberately orchestrated the scandal to corner Anant.
But they needed Noyonika’s confession. Without it, the media would defame Anant and ruin this case further.
Once the plates were cleared, he left for his room, and she headed to the shower, the heat of the water soothing her restless body.
She changed into another soft cotton nightie, this one lilac, brushing high against her thighs.
She rubbed lotion into her skin, her fingers pausing more than once when her eyes drifted to the connecting door.
Why hadn’t the technician shown up today? Had Kushal told the staff not to bother?
Strangely, she didn’t feel angry at the thought. Only... unsettled.
Climbing into bed, she slipped beneath the covers, her fingers unconsciously grazing the pillow beside her…
the one he had rested his head on the night before.
Last night, they shared this bed. She would never admit it out loud, not even to herself in the mirror, but it had been the best night’s sleep she’d had in months.
And now, with only the chill of the linen and her own tangle of thoughts for company, the room felt bigger, colder and emptier.
She switched off the bedside lamp, letting the room fall into darkness. One more day, she told herself. Just one more, before they confronted Noyonika, wrapped up the matter here, and returned to Delhi. Back to their separate lives. Separate homes. Separate everything.
But the thought didn’t sit right.
Why did the idea of going back to that old reality suddenly feel so unbearable?
Why was it so hard to say that maybe she wasn’t as certain about ending this marriage as she once was?
Suddenly, the handle of the connecting door clicked. Her breath caught as the knob turned and the door creaked open.
She knew it was him. But why was he here now?
Instinct took over. She squeezed her eyes shut, pretending to be asleep, hoping maybe he would see her resting and quietly slip away.
But the silence only deepened… until the mattress dipped behind her.
Her eyes flew open.
He was here. In her bed.
Before she could even process that, his arm slid around her waist, pulling her back against the solid line of his chest.
She gasped, instinctively reaching to push him away. But he lowered his mouth to her ear.
“Shh,” he whispered. “After last night, I couldn’t sleep without you beside me. I tried.”
She froze.
He continued, his breath skimming her skin, setting it alight. “I know we go back to our separate lives the day after tomorrow. But… until then, Aru, just let me remember what it feels like to hold you this close again. Please.”
The words cracked something inside her. She felt the ache in his voice, the sincerity in his touch, the plea of a man too proud to ever beg. And just like that her resistance faded, inch by inch. Her hands dropped. And then slowly, without a word, she melted back into him.