Chapter 32
Kushal’s Penthouse – Same Night
The house had long fallen silent, but Arundhati’s muffled sobs still echoed in the guest room.
She had curled on her side, her face buried into the pillow, damp with tears, when the mattress dipped behind her.
It was him. Before she could protest, his strong arms slid around her waist, pulling her back into the warmth of his chest.
“Kushal, please.” Her voice broke into a desperate plea between sobs. “I don’t want your sympathy. Just… please leave me alone.”
But instead of releasing her, he pulled her closer.
His chest pressed firm against her back, his legs curling around hers, his breath steady and hot against her nape.
He didn’t argue. He didn’t defend. He just held her tighter in his arms, because she belonged there, and he would never let her drift away again.
She shivered, even continued resisting, but then his lips brushed close to her ear, and his words tore the last thread of her resistance.
“You’re not the only one who kept the door unlocked every night,” he confessed softly. “I did it too.”
Her eyes flew open as his words sank slowly into her heart and soul. He had wanted her? He had waited for her all these nights? Just like she had waited for him?
Her sobs weakened as his words sank in, but Kushal wasn’t done bearing the truth he had buried for far too long.
“The doors of my heart and this house have been open for you ever since you walked out, Aru. I may have never said it, but that’s the truth.
My ego… of putting myself before everyone, of protecting my pride first…
It’s what has shaped me all my life. Maybe because I grew up alone, never knowing what it meant to have a family to put before myself.
Until you. And when you left… I missed you so much I could hardly breathe alone in this house.
God knows how much I prayed you would return. ”
Fresh tears filled her eyes, but this time they weren’t just of pain. They were of a deep ache for him.
His arm around her waist locked tighter, anchoring her to him as he went on.
“Ever since we started working together again, on Anant’s case, I knew my heart would betray me.
Every day with you, my heart beats louder than my ego, louder than my self-pride.
I wanted you back… so desperately that I pushed my own ambitions, my dream of leading Verma if anything, his grip only tightened, as if afraid she would vanish again.
Kushal brushed his thumb across her damp cheek.
“I was so wrong. I didn’t see what lay behind your decisions…
your fears. Fears born out of your parents’ story.
Fears that if you gave someone a second chance, you would only end up broken.
Like your mother. I didn’t know it, Aru.
I didn’t even realise it until you opened up tonight.
Otherwise, in those initial five months of our marriage, I would have made you see that I am not a man who would cheat on his wife.
That I would never hurt you. Never betray you.
Never let you down. Because you…” He broke, his voice catching as he cupped her face with both hands, pulling her forehead to his lips. “…you are my whole life, Aru.”
Her lips parted, her chest quivering with each breath as tears ran freely now, but for the first time in months, she wasn’t crying out of despair. She clutched his t-shirt.
“Say it again.”
His lips pressed harder to her skin as he repeated. “You are my whole life.”
Her sob escaped as a choked laugh, and she threw herself into his chest, hugging him so tight he thought his heart might burst out of his ribcage. “You are my whole life too,” she whispered fiercely into his shirt.
He exhaled, relieved, as if her words had set his soul free. He pulled the comforter over them, cocooning her in his warmth, burying his lips in her hair, kissing her forehead, her crown, the damp strands of her locks, as if each kiss was an oath.
And as her sobs gave way to soft breaths, and his hold never once loosened, their bodies curved into each other, hearts beating in the same rhythm.
This was the first truly peaceful sleep they had shared in months, even peaceful than what they had in Dalhousie.
This time, they were both ready and willing to give their marriage a second chance. Together.
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Next Morning
The bed was cold when Arundhati stirred, the warmth of his body already gone.
Yet as she blinked awake, memories of last night rushed in, the memories of him holding her, arms wrapped so tight around her that even sleep hadn’t been able to separate them.
If he’d rolled to the other side, she had instinctively hugged him from behind; if she’d shifted, he’d pulled her back against his chest. They had breathed in sync, slept in sync.
For the first time in months, she had felt truly like his wife.
A smile curved her lips as she slipped out of bed. He must have gone back to his room to shower, to get ready for court. Raj Uncle had mentioned that Kushal had a packed day in court today. She freshened up quickly, showered, then prepared a small breakfast—simple sandwiches, the way he liked them.
A while later, getting dressed for work herself, when she stepped out into the kitchen again, her heart tripped. He was already there, leaning casually against the counter, mug of black coffee in hand, as he spoke commandingly into his phone.
She poured her own coffee quietly, stealing a sip, while sneaking glances at him. Even in an ordinary morning, he managed to look devastating in his charcoal-grey suit that fit him to perfection. His hair was still faintly damp from the shower, making him look irresistible.
The moment his call ended, she moved closer, holding out the sandwiches she had made. “Have these before you leave.”
He didn’t even glance at the plate as he texted someone urgently. “I’m late already.”
“I made them especially for you. Even last time, you skipped them in your ego. Don’t do it again.”
Now that got his attention. His eyes lifted, pinning her.
Without another word, he took one, bit into it, and began chewing slowly.
Relishing it. Loving it. But the worst part was the way his gaze never once dropped from hers.
It was love. It was hunger. It was a stare that stripped her bare, right there in the kitchen.
Although flirting wasn’t her forte, she still couldn’t help but smile. “If you keep staring at me like that, I’ll have to start charging you, Mr. Nair.”
He smiled. A pure, heartfelt smile, the kind only Kushal Nair could give to his wife.
He finished the sandwich, licked a faint crumb from his thumb, and finally replied, “You’ve become more demanding as a wife than you ever were before.
You feed me first, and when I show my appreciation and gratitude by admiring your beautiful morning face, I’m suddenly not allowed?
That’s hardly equitable consideration, Mrs. Nair.
If this were a legal contract, I’d call it a breach of fair terms.”
Her heart raced. Damn him. Damn his voice. And she had nothing to counter defend.
He checked his watch, breaking the spell. “I’m running late. Bye.” He turned around and headed toward the door, gathering his files and laptop, while Arundhati trailed behind him.
“I would have dropped you at the office before heading to court,” he muttered casually as he adjusted his coat. “But, I’m seriously late.”
“It’s fine. I’ll drive myself.” She smiled faintly, hiding her disappointment.
But just as he reached the door, she stopped him. “I guess you forgot something.”
He frowned, checking his phone and wallet before glancing back at her. “No. I’ve got everything.”
When he turned, his chest went still. She was holding his wedding ring.
The one he had never taken off until recently, after their bitter argument returning from Dalhousie.
“I found it in your closet yesterday while looking for my things,” she said softly. “Thought you might need it again.”
His lips curled into a slow smirk. “And why would I need it again?” His tone dripped with mockery, but the flicker in his eyes betrayed him.
She stepped closer and held his right hand, sliding the ring onto his finger without breaking their eye contact. “Because it’s a reminder of what you are… mine.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, as if he’d almost kiss her right then. But he swallowed it down, forcing his lips into a faint smile instead of surrendering. “See you later,” he said briskly, stepping back.
And just like that, he was gone.
Arundhati let out a long sigh, pressing her palm to her racing heart. How could he control himself so much? Not even a forehead kiss before leaving? Last night, he had. But today felt new, and she definitely deserved more.
Fine, she thought with a sly smirk tugging at her lips. It looked like wearing satin spaghetti night suits, sarees, and sindoor was the only way to get her husband’s attention these days.
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