Chapter 21
Verma and Associates – Next Day
By the time the clock struck ten, the office had settled into its familiar rhythm…keyboards clicking, phones ringing, soft murmurs between legal assistants. But in Kushal Nair’s cabin, it had been anything but routine since sunrise.
He had arrived at seven.
Not because of deadlines.
Not because of pressure.
Because of her.
Three nights in Dalhousie in the same room as Arundhati had left him addicted to her nearness and tortured by the distance she kept.
It had rewired his system, burned new circuits into his routine.
The way she curled into his chest in her sleep.
The scent of her shampoo on the pillow they shared.
He had lived in a kind of borrowed dream.
Last night, returning home from Dalhousie to his cold, empty bed, it had hit him harder than he expected. He didn’t belong in that silence anymore. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her…under him, wrapped in sheets and heat and that stubborn pride that made him want her more.
He couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t keep himself from replaying every second they had shared.
That ridiculous couple’s game. The way her lips had parted when he blindfolded her in their room.
The way she had moaned his name when she lost control, not knowing that sound would haunt him through the night.
By six a.m., he gave up trying to rest. He showered. Dressed. Drove with no music. And showed up at Verma & Associates, hoping work would be the distraction he desperately needed.
It wasn’t.
Every knock on the door made his head snap up, wishing it were her. He told himself this was pathetic. That a man like him shouldn’t feel like this. But all his logic collapsed the moment his heart dared to ask: What if she never lets you close again?
He hadn’t just missed her last night.
He had ached for her.
And the most frustrating part? She hadn’t even texted him after she took the cab from the airport. As if nothing had changed between them, as if that night where she kissed him like he was oxygen, these three days they spent together in Dalhousie had been just a lapse and nothing more.
And here he was, waiting for her to walk into the office…
That’s when the door opened again and Raj Verma walked into his cabin unannounced, hands shoved casually in his coat pockets.
“Kushal? What am I hearing?” he asked.
Kushal looked up, immediately standing straight. “Good morning, Sir.”
Raj stepped inside.
“You reached here at seven?”
Kushal exhaled and gave a slow nod. “Had a backlog. Figured it was time to tackle it.”
Raj narrowed his gaze, amused. “Since when do you tackle anything before coffee?”
Kushal didn’t reply. How was he supposed to tell Raj Verma that it wasn’t court filings that had kept him up, but the memory of his niece that had brought him to the office early?
Raj stepped closer and clapped his hand on Kushal’s shoulder. “Look, son. You don’t have to overcompensate. Your body needs rest. Pushing yourself to exhaustion isn’t how you impress anyone here in this firm.”
Kushal bit the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting, It’s not the firm I’m trying to impress. It’s your niece I want to hold again.
Almost like he heard that unsaid plea, Raj tilted his head and asked, “So, how was Dalhousie?”
Kushal’s brows lifted. “Productive. We got Noyonika’s confession. It’ll help close Anant’s defamation angle. The summons has been served, and we’ve enough to corner her in court now.”
Raj nodded, clearly pleased, then added with a sly smile, “I wasn’t talking about the work trip, Kushal. I meant you and Arundhati. Just the two of you, away from everything... Call me optimistic, but I have a strong feeling it worked in your favour.”
Kushal froze.
And then, damn it, he blushed.
Because how did he even begin to explain what Dalhousie had been?
Their connecting rooms. The nights spent in the same bed.
Their playful banter, shared meals, the honeymoon games at the resort, that blindfolded game that turned far too intimate…
and of course, the night that spiralled into something much deeper, far more physical, though it ended unfinished.
Raj chuckled knowingly. “You don’t have to say a word. Your face gave everything away.”
Kushal shook his head with a faint smirk. “How is it that you read me so easily… and your niece can’t?”
“She does,” Raj said with conviction. “But unlike me, she won’t let you off the hook so easily. Aru’s too guarded. She needs certainty. And more than that, she needs consistency. She’ll test you before she trusts you again. And that’s fair.”
Kushal leaned against his desk, hands in his pockets, lips pressed together. “Then I’ll let her test me. I’ll pass every damn paper she throws my way.”
Raj smiled and turned to leave, patting his shoulder again. “Good. Because you are the only man I know crazy enough to argue with her and love her at the same time.”
The door closed behind Raj with a soft thud as he left. Silence settled back into the room, but Kushal wasn’t really in it anymore.
Love?
He exhaled sharply and turned to the window, staring out at the skyline, his fingers tightening in his pockets.
Somewhere between courtroom battles and bruised egos, living separately and still yearning for her, he had started falling for the woman he had married.
He had never said those three words to her. Not even once. Not when they got married. Not when they fought. Not when she left. Maybe he didn’t realise it then. Maybe he was too caught up in pride and power and past regrets.
But this time, he’d say the words.
Even if she made him earn every damn syllable of her trust. He finally stepped out of his cabin twenty minutes later.
Arundhati still hadn’t arrived at the office.
She would likely show up at her usual hour, unbothered, unhurried…
unlike him, who’d practically raced through the morning just for a glimpse of her.
Why was she always like this? Why did she bury what she felt for him?
*****************
A few minutes later
Arundhati nearly stumbled at the entrance of Verma & Associates.
It wasn’t like her to be this clumsy, but maybe it was the rush to get inside, cross the lobby, take that familiar left, walk straight past the main hall, take the second right, and unlock the glass door that would reveal the one person who hadn’t left her thoughts since the moment she had returned from Dalhousie.
Kushal Nair.
She couldn’t sleep well last night. No matter how many times she turned on her side, fluffed her pillow, or tried meditative breathing, her mind wouldn’t shut up. Kushal’s handsome face, those flirtatious quips, the dark heat in his gaze, everything kept replaying in her head.
At 6 a.m., she had finally given up, lacing her sneakers and heading for a punishing workout at the gym.
But even the treadmill couldn’t run him out of her head.
A long shower didn’t help either. If anything, it made her miss his touch more.
She had almost dressed quickly and driven to the office just to be near him, but she forced herself to slow down now. She wouldn’t be the desperate one.
And yet, here she was. As she made her way inside, her wait was over.
Across the space in the pantry, Kushal was pouring himself coffee.
He wore a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, collar open just enough to hint at the strong chest beneath.
There was something about the way he leaned against the counter, so casually sexy, that made her heart flutter.
As if he felt her, he turned around and their eyes met.
She hadn’t planned to walk toward him, but her legs carried her across the floor without permission.
She only realised she was in the pantry, not her cabin, when he tilted his head and quirked a brow. Arundhati opened her mouth, about to offer some excuse about needing a coffee too, when suddenly his demeanour shifted. His jaw hardened, and that naughty smirk vanished.
He was no longer looking at her. But behind her. Why?
She turned around and froze, too, because Kamya Bakshi walked into the building confidently, in a sleek ivory bodycon dress.
Her designer heels clicked softly as she approached the pantry where she and Kushal were, her scarlet lips curved in a smug, knowing smile.
Her eyes didn’t even flinch as she brushed past Arundhati without acknowledgement.
“I heard I was being missed,” Kamya said, her voice laced with delight, her gaze locked on Kushal.
Arundhati glared. That’s what Kushal had said to Noyonika in Dalhousie, hadn’t he? To tell Kamya that he, her old friend, missed her. That he wanted her to come to Verma & Associates. Now here she was! Having the audacity to say that to her husband, Kushal, before her.
As Kushal read the storm in Arundhati’s eyes, the guilt was immediate on his face.
“Oh, hi, Arundhati,” Kamya said, turning to her. “Sorry, I didn’t realise it was you.”
That tone. That smirk. That fake apology. Urgh!
Professionalism dictated that Arundhati respond with grace. After all, Kamya was still a client. But instead, Arundhati offered her nothing but a steely glare, and turning around, she retreated down the corridor toward her cabin.
Kamya’s smirk widened as if the mission was accomplished. The coffee cup in Kushal’s hand was long forgotten as he watched Arundhati disappear.
Kamya took a step closer to him.
“It’s nice to see you again, Kushal,” she said, her voice honeyed with familiarity. “Long time.”
His hands were in his pockets, but his shoulders stiffened just slightly.
“I wasn’t expecting you to show up this quickly,” he replied. “Didn’t think a short-notice invite would do the trick.”
“Oh, come on. How could I resist? You were the one who said you missed me… asked to see me. I’d to drop everything else and come here right away.”