Chapter 27
4:33 AM
She had probably made at least a dozen cups of tea throughout the night, sitting beside him as he worked at the Computer, his brow furrowed- occasionally asking for a file which she would fish out and hand him. Talking some things out for her to hear, while she checked to see if they had the facts correctly. Always looking harried. She placed the plate filled with Aloo Poha beside him and pulled the file out of his hands.
“Arnav, eat up. Or you’ll ruin your health.”
He looked up at her, and smiled wearily- rubbing a red eye vigorously as he reached for the spoon with the other hand. She sighed wistfully. Why did such things always happen to them? They’d worked so hard to get stable for the last four years, and now, just as they were getting somewhere this...
“Khushi?” he asked her, his hoarse voice breaking with concern and she realized that she’d closed her eyes. She mustn’t cry, he was already in enough tension as it was, she didn’t need to add to his worries. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, as one large hand caught hers and squeezed gently. “Don’t... worry, okay Baby? We’ll get through this.”
Oh, Arnav. She almost burst into tears. He was so brave, her Arnav. She smiled again, and nodded at him. “Of course, we’re going to get through this! I’m with you, Arnav.” she whispered the last part as she got up and stood behind him, her hands gently massaging the tension out of his shoulders. “We’ll get through this together.”
And they’d went back to the files and the presentation, with a renewed vigour. They’d be facing the Board of Directors of the Royal Pride tomorrow- and also the Bank. They’d be facing the Buyers the day after. She shuddered, eyes closing, even as Arnav started to talk about the Hotels in the South. They’d been abandoned again. Just as they’d started to settle down. And Arnav, her poor Arnav, had to make the decisions again- call the shots... take it all upon himself. And this time, it was not a mere 13 year old child... It was a whole Empire. A crumbling Empire... where people would be looking up to him to save from falling to the ground. She rubbed at the nape of his neck and he rolled his shoulders, murmuring a “yes, Khushi, just there.” Squaring her shoulders, she shook her head, blinking the threatened tears away. No, this time there would be a difference. This time, she would be his support- his asset.
They would get through this together.
Khushi sighed as she looked up from her Phone, her fingers pausing mid-tap as she typed an E-mail, as Aman handed her a Cup of coffee and one to a slumbering Arnav beside her. She raised an eyebrow at him and he muttered a small- “No Sugar. Black, Ma’am.” and she nodded, as she nudged Arnav awake. He looked down at her, Molten Brown eyes twinkling- melting her insides- as he smirked and accepted the cup, nodding curtly to Aman.
Lazily stretching beside her, he sipped the coffee , as he slowly looked down at her, a small enigmatic smile playing across his lips. And Khushi marveled at just how good he could look, even after that harrowing Board Meeting they’d just had. “Well, I think we made quite an Impression on them huh, Khush?” he asked her gently, smiling all the way, and she snorted.
“Impression? Arnav, most of them are against the Boutique Hotel Idea.” She shook her head exasperatedly. She didn’t understand these people. The Boutique Hotels were going to be nothing but profitable for AR. She had give them the goddamned figures! Why couldn’t they see past the word New? She hated this Board of Directors business sometimes! COO of the goddamned company, and still she had to convince some orthodox old goats, so that their company could make a profit. And they opposed her. Every damn time.
“Because they are idiotic fools who we will fire... eventually,” He said carelessly, slinging an arm around her back. “You might wonder why we still keep them around - why I haven’t bought him out yet, I have my reasons certainly,” He suddenly smiled at him, a rare event that had his eyes twinkling.
“Soon, when it’s time Khush, and Aman knows it,” he gestured at the man sitting in front of them quietly, typing away, “I will have them tossed out on their ass, but the time isn’t now. Yet...” Aman nodded, preferring not to interject anything into what had been said already. But yes, he did know. His boss had gone at great lengths to have Aman draw up the papers with his personal attorney, lest the corporate branch let something slip.
Khushi stiffened under the casual arm that he’d thrown around her. Her thoughts immediately rushing back to the day before... and then to the night before that. Her gut twisted as she suddenly became aware of one thing she had completely ignored in her sorrow of her actions and their consequences. Not only had she put her life- her life with Arnav- at risk, but also her whole career. She had, after all, grown with the Raizada Royales. She had learned the ropes at Malhotra Uncle’s knees, along with Arnav. Khushi knew it. Arnav overlooked it, because, lets face it, she thought wryly - men gave very little thought to everything else once sex got thrown in the mix. Arnav, she knew had a tunnel vision like the rest of them. But then, he had nothing to lose - she did. Her career, her integrity. Her reputation. All that she had validated; all that had drawn her away from being a whore’s daughter would be lost; one false move. Just one, she knew. One she had probably already made. She shuddered.
Arnav drew her closer against his chest, as he had done a countless times before, but this time it was different. For the moment, it was almost as if she couldn’t bear it. Khushi moved away; the move so sudden, so abrupt that even Aman’s eyes were drawn to the sight before him. All he could think was “Shit! They have finally gone off and broken the cardinal rule of partnership”. Aman shook his head in defeat; he was expecting it, but at the same time, he credited his bosses with more grey matter. Now what?
Arnav looked down at Khushi, stunned disbelief coursing through him for a second, before he managed to reign his racing mind in and looked at her actions objectively. She hadn’t been uncomfortable around him for the past day, but then, they hadn’t really discussed what they were so deeply entrenched in, either. But she knew, didn’t she that this was for the long haul? How hard could it be for her to understand? After all, Khushi was the one person who understood his intentions perfectly, every time. And she supported him through them too. Then what was wrong? He frowned down at her, “Khushi?”
And in an uncharacteristic move, Khushi had suddenly gotten up in a flash, and Arnav could have sworn he had heard an indistinct sniffle in there somewhere. “Excuse me, I need to use the ladies’.” she murmured, and had swiftly and stiffly walked off, before he could utter another word. His frown deepened, Should he follow her? Should he let her learn the fact that this was for the long haul herself? He didn’t mind walking into a Ladies’ washroom after her, he had done that not very many weeks ago in Delhi, and he wasn’t ashamed of doing it again. But maybe if she realized it for herself, she would be more convinced? A sudden flash of pain caught him unawares, leaving his senses scrambled. What if... What if she still felt something for NK Singhania? What if she had decided that she wanted to go back to him, and hence was trying to distance herself from himself? Alarmed and Scared, Arnav almost jumped to his feet and followed her. No. NO. She was not bailing on him. He was going to keep her. His.
“Khushi?” he had followed her, and it was clear that she had wanted distance- because she had crossed the Ladies’ at least three paces ago. She was neglecting him- he knew, purposefully striding away, increasing her pace- but he was too fast for her. In another second he had closed the distance between them and caught her arm. Swinging her around, he hauled her closer to himself and tightened his arms around her as she tried in vain to struggle out of his arms.
“Khushi? Khushi!” he shook her by the shoulders and she sagged against him. “What is this about, Khush?” he asked her tenderly. His eyes searching hers. And he felt the last of the fight leave her, as she leaned her head against his shoulder. Her hands now clutching his upper-arms, as tears soaked his jacket’s lapels. “Baby?” he asked again, his voice a small whisper against her ear, and she buried her nose in his shoulder.
“I’m... I am scared, Arnav. So very scared.” she whispered into his shoulder as he cradled her to himself. And he sighed. No, she would have to learn for herself. All he could do was try and support her, teach her how to do that. How to trust... how to keep faith in them. He bent his head, cupping her chin, looking into her eyes, and with the utmost conviction that he could muster with his entire being, he only said this: “Trust me, Khushi?”
And it was there and then, that Khushi Kumari Gupta decided to live her love- before it was lost forever.
Arnav stared at Khushi. Then he stared at Aman who was trying very very hard not to look at them. Anywhere. Everywhere. Studiously ignoring what was happening before his sights. Arnav had never seen this side of his assistant before. Aman had come when Khushi was still in school and he himself had been a fresh faced graduate. The man was used to the intimacy between the two of them. He had seen far more scandalizing things and hadn’t blinked and yet, Khushi cradled against his side was making his assistant feel awkward? Why was that? Had something visually changed between them? Arnav had always thought that things would always remain the same between them - whether things worked out or not; yet, Aman Mathur was having an apoplexy over a hug? What had changed? How was that Aman had noticed it? Granted, Arnav smirked, the man was smarter than he was given credit for, by his boss, but should changes like these be so apparent to the world? Arnav wasn’t sure how he would adapt to the public change in their relationship.
Arnav looked at Aman again, who was now staring at his nails like they contained the secret of the universe while Khushi remained nestled against his side. He never for a second believed that the man would gossip - Aman innate sense of loyalty was why Arnav employed the man. He would cut off his tongue before he sold his employers out to some gossip rag; but what worried Arnav was that Aman wasn’t the only smart employee in his watch - Arnav always hired the smart ones. Granted, Aman was smarter than most but what Aman had deduced with just one glance, the others could with a few. It seemed like Arnav and Khushi had to be more careful about how they conducted themselves in public. While Aman wouldn’t gossip - going as medieval as to rip his own tongue out before he did (Arnav was sure) - He wasn’t that sure about the others. Aman wasn’t a piranha the way the others were. Which is why he was more suited to his role as Arnav’s man-friday. Had he had the killer instinct of the rest of the bunch, Arnav would worry about his role in the company. But what this man didn’t have, his other executives did - which meant, they would try to use the fact to get ahead in their careers. Arnav had to be very careful with his relationship with Khushi if he wanted to make it work - away from page 3 and other gossip rags. Khushi was a touchy person in some respect. Having her name bandied about; sexually linked to him would no doubt bring back.... bad memories from her past before him. This was one thing she didn’t need to deal with.
He sighed, rubbing his forehead. When did sexual liaisons get so complicated? When he started caring about the woman involved no doubt, a voice inside him crowed, snarkily. What about the other women whose name were bandied about, slung with him so casually over the years? Why didn’t he care about them, then? He didn’t know. What was worse was the fact that he suspected that he knew the answer - just didn’t want to scrutinize it too much, lest they revealed more than he was comfortable with.
Arnav pulled her closer to him; she had fallen asleep. Exhausted, no doubt. He could see indigo shadows forming under her eyes - giant bruises. Anyone would think that he had punched her there, he thought irritatedly. Why was it that she took care of herself so little? Sitting in the airport VIP lounge, he pulled her even closer, covering her with the jacket he had slung behind his chair at one point. Doing all of it one handedly had been an interesting experience since moving his other hand was out of the question. Khushi was sleeping on it. Arnav knew just how little she had slept that week - with the research on the proposed purchase and the RR Mumbai opening, Khushi had been burning candles at both ends and, Naivedyam was no doubt acting as the straw that is nearly breaking this particular camel’s back. Arnav softly stroked her hair with his free hand, she murmured. Not waking up. Settling into his side more snugly. Sleeping more deeply. He didn’t know why, but the sight caused his heart to clench. Not in the “Aww-Khush-Sleeping-That-Drooling-Machine” kind of way, but in a way he was afraid to explore. To think about. To search beyond the layers. He was afraid; not because he wouldn’t like the answer but because he was man enough to understand whatever that particular answer was, it would manage to do what all the other losses in his life hadn’t done - it would end up unmanning him.
Khushi... he looked again. Thinking. All the water that had passed under that particular bridge. All the rocks that went about to build it. She had been such an incredible support in his life - both professional and personal. Every step he had taken, she had been a conscious partner in it. When had she... the girl he had once thought of as the monkey become such an integral part of his decision making process? Arnav threw his head back and thought. He could almost remember. So much had changed then. Would he be where he was now, sitting in the VIP lounge for the rich and the privileged, if it hadn’t happened? If she wasn’t there? A tiny voice inside Arnav insistently and often said no. Then, didn’t he owe his existence to her? That day with her? If so... didn’t it mean that he owed her his all? In every way possible?
Arnav closed and locked the door behind him and rubbed his face wearily. He could hear the soft strains of some bollywood song on the Radio, coming from the inside room. It would be only a matter of seconds now...
“Arnav!” Right on cue, he smiled tiredly. “Haan Khushi. I’m back!” he called, and barely five minutes later she had come out with a steaming cup of tea. He had only just settled down in the chair and taken a sip, when the expected barrage of questions had started.
“What’s wrong, Arnav? And don’t you say nothing, because I’ve been noticing you for the past three days and you are tensed. So just say it, what’s wrong? Does it have something to do with Malhotra Uncle’s meeting with you the day before?”
He sighed, weary, tired. Never could hide anything from her. And so, grudgingly, he told her what exactly was happening. Feeling considerably light at the end of the story. But those Hazel eyes were wide, and he could almost see a plan forming there.
The rest as they say, was history, he thought wryly, watching her sleep. The foolish, foolish, foolhardy plan that she had concocted in her young head had worked - had outwitted seasoned veterans; then - and it had given him the realization that veterans, no matter how seasoned, can be brought down by greenhorns, once they get complacent. So that was two life lessons he had learned from her, could he owe her more, if he tried? Arnav didn’t think so. Yet, look at her, he thought, frowning. It was as if something was eating her up from the inside. Like she was under a great deal of stress - like she was being stretched - torn. How did one deal with that? He looked at Aman, who for the past hour had been looking out the window - what was he to do?
The plane was at the Delhi airport again, he noted half-heartedly. Shocked to realize that he would much rather have it in mid-air for the rest of the month, just watching her sleep - away from complications of all kind. What kind of pussy was he turning into, he thought sourly. She was sleeping still - sleep of the dead; of the exhausted; of the ones without ink spots on their conscience. He almost wanted to let her sleep still. He wanted to carry her out in his arms - there was a primordial pleasure in that, he noted with a start - in carrying the woman out - your own woman out in your arms like that. Arnav would do it. Who cared? Aman, he noted, obviously did. Just when he had stooped down to take her in his arms, still sleeping, he cleared his throat.
“Sir... there are photographers outside. From Gossip rags,” he said tactfully. Just like that Arnav stopped. As if cold water had been flung over him. What would happen when a page 3 magazine got a shot of him carrying his COO in his arms? What would happen to the board of directors or the shares? There was so much to lose here right now. Arnav wouldn’t gamble on all they have built like this. No. He turned away, noticing that this was perhaps the hardest thing he had ever done - turning away from her sleeping form. He motioned for Aman to tactfully wake Khushi up and strode out, feeling... out of sorts. There was something going on - something that was making him something he wasn’t. He was afraid to delve into it - it might, he knew, become his undoing.
By the time he was at the AMEX lounge, she was up, he noted. Still sleepy. No wonder, she barely had any sleep in the past few days, and the bleary eyed stare was a mute testament to it. He wanted to ask her to sit down, to sit on his lap and relax. He wanted to stroke her back and make it all better but, for some reason - he couldn’t. It all seemed muddled. It all seemed so out of their usual sphere that he looked away again. Busying himself in fetching their travel bags, wheeling them out. Aman was behind her, shielding her from the paparazzi when they exited the Amex lounge - something that, until this point had been his second nature. Did his secretary realize that something had changed between them? Did he know that the easy swing in their relationship now, to Arnav seemed as if it was irrevocably lost? What was he to do?
Arnav looked around to see if she was okay. Khushi had slid her Aviators on, shielding her eyes and her expressions from the camera-crazed paparazzi. She seemed oblivious to him. To everything that was happening. Serenely, she placed one hand on Aman’s arm and they slowly exited behind him - leaving him cold. Like he had lost something. Like a part of him had been frozen off, indefinitely.
It was a big day for the Raizada Royales. It was barely three years after the “Ultimate Downfall” of the Malhotra Empire at the hands of “Raizada and his Faithful lackey” had been predicted in the Gossip Mags, and here they were- Him and his faithful lackey- the most powerful team in the Hospitality Industry as was being fast realized and acknowledged, back from Bangalore, after the successful launch of the Second Raizada Royale in the chain: with three more in the offing. And the Delhi Royale was one of the Top-most Hotels being listed in the Nation. The cover of Times Now said so!
He looked down at Khushi who was peering worriedly over at the crowd toting cameras and microphones, biting her lip anxiously. The girl had taken on a full Board of Directors, single-handedly managed the Delhi Royale when he was off in Bangalore, looked over and smoothed out each and every fine detail of the Bangalore Royale, and she was nervous to face a gaggle of carrion-like people coming in from all sides! He shook his head, Oh Khush.
He indicated Aman- a fortunate find of his- to collect their luggage and gently turned her towards him. “Khush. You’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. Trust me?” And she had nodded her head. Smiling, he handed her the Aviators- and she looked up at him curiously. Oh Khush. Oh Baby.
“Shield your expressions Khush. That’s all. Here,” he said, smiling gently as he offered her his arm and she took it, her hand delicately placed over his forearm. “The rest, I’ll manage.” She had smiled up at him- relieved. Winking down at her, he jerked his head at the gaggle of reporters standing ready to pounce on them. “Showtime!” he said, and she giggled as he waggled his eyebrows at her. Donning their Aviators together, they had walked towards them, and then through them. He had shielded her- and they had finally crossed them. Like Always. Together.
And ever since then, it had been him shielding her from those Gossip-mongers. What happened today? Why was she with Aman, poker-faced; moving away? He closed his eyes and shook his head at the foolish baseless fear gripping his heart. Was another one of their Rituals behind them?
He watched as she slid into the waiting car, along with Aman - they were going to the office straight while Arnav had to go to another site. They needed to talk, no doubt, he understood - even as he knew that now wasn’t the time. They were swamped from all side, and the things were coming to a head... What were they to do? Nonetheless, Arnav knew, they would talk. They just had to. Khushi and him, one thing they never lacked was words between the two of them - and it wouldn’t happen now. He knew. He just knew that words wouldn’t fail him now. They never had of course; Arnav was well known for his silver tongue during negotiations and... this was too important. He wouldn’t fail - words wouldn’t fail him now; He hoped.
There were cards; all over the conference table he noted, when he stepped back into the office. Arnav had been in a pisser of a mood; the negotiations - as they were - weren’t working out fast enough to suit him and to top it all off, Khushi wouldn’t meet his eyes. He had meant to call out to her but seeing her this skittish around him had really soured up what was left of his patience and now, he was wondering if there was anything breakable in his office again. He chose to focus on what was needed; compartmentalizing what wasn’t a strict necessity at that point. The cards, he saw, she had arranged on the table. There were four final ones - Each distinctively beautiful in its own way. A Grey and Purple Damask print, an Arabic-Mughal inspired gold and red print, a Sepia coloured vintage newsprint with Ice Blue swirls and a chic Purple and Black Monogrammed card. Yet, there was another card - one he knew was the one. The one she had left separated, and was caressing at intervals. It was Sepia printed, with a monogrammed R backed by two peacocks facing away from each other. The ink was a dark maroon brown and the calligraphy just perfect. It was elegant enough; Indian enough without being cheesy to suit Arnav’s taste and Khushi had found just the right one, yet again.
He was however, aghast when instead of telling Aman that yes, that was the one, she motioned for him to come over and said, “Arnav, these are my final picks - choose ,” He was aghast still when he chose what she had already chosen and still, when Aman quietly took it away, choosing not to comment on his employers’ weird lack of interaction.
Arnav kept on looking - feeling rooted to the ground. What the fuck was happening here? He could feel it... feel her being ripped away from himself. And the worst part was, he couldn’t do anything. Not a fucking thing. Now who did he have to pay to fix this fuck up, Arnav thought, feeling very, very lost all of a sudden. Something told him the answer wasn’t as easy as the question asked. Helpless. For the very first time since they'd been together- for the very first time in the life he wanted to remember- Arnav Singh Raizada was helpless.
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when will you resume writing this beautiful story?
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