173. OS 7: The Other Woman (Part 41)

Part 41

                     (Thank u, Supriya! Love it!)

“Khushi,” he said quietly. “Who told you?”

“Shyamji,” she said equally softly.

“I was driving towards Laxmi Nagar,” he began.

“I know,” she whispered. “You would have kept your promise.”

“Yes,” he murmured. “I was looking forward to Diwali with you.” His fingers caressed hers.

She looked down at their clasped hands.

“I was hoping we could spend some time together, but,” he looked down at himself in disgust.

Khushi lifted his hand to her lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of his hand.

He stared at her with molten eyes filled with longing. Maybe she would condescend to kiss him on his cheek.

Khushi looked into his tender eyes.

“I don’t want to spend some time with you,” Khushi said.

He gasped, feeling a mild pull in his ribs.

“I have a deal for you,” she looked directly at him.

“What?” he asked, almost scared of her answer.

“I want to spend my whole life with you, not just some time or a Diwali. If you are ready, we can get married,” Khushi said simply.

His mouth fell open. He grappled with the ramifications of her demand. “You will marry me, Khushi?”

“Ji,” she said, her face expressionless.

“You will marry me as soon as possible, Khushi?” he asked, still unable to believe her words. If his accident had changed her mind, then he was ready to have a hundred accidents and break every bone in his body daily to keep her.

She nodded.

“You will marry me now, Khushi?” he asked, holding on tight to her hand.

Her eyes flew open.

“Now, here? I will ask Jiju and Akash to arrange it. They will kidnap some purohit. We can marry now...” he began.

Khushi choked with laughter, his eagerness driving away the blues for a moment.

“They have had enough excitement for one evening,” she wheezed. “I don’t think they will be able to take anymore.”

“Khushi,” he protested.

“Get well, Arnavji,” she said softly, her eyes gentle. “Then I will marry you anywhere you want me to.”

Arnav looked down at his bruised body with a dark frown. If he got the idiots who had incapacitated him, he would take great delight in squeezing the last drop of blood from their bodies.

Khushi smiled at the ferocious look on his face, correctly divining his thoughts. The smile slowly vanished and tears filled her eyes. If the accident had been fatal...Her heart could not bear to linger on the thought. A tear slipped down her cheek and fell on their clasped hands. She would have died with him, the cross bear of a man.

He looked up with startled eyes. “Khushi, kya hua?” His question was accompanied by an anxious look.

Khushi let go of his hand and leaned forward to fall gently against his shoulder. Her arms went around him, careful not to hurt him.

He drew in a deep breath of delight, ignoring his ribs.

“Khushi, I love you,” he whispered against her silky, fragrant hair.

“I know,” her lips moved against his shoulder. “If something had happened to you,” she paused, her hot tears wetting his skin.

“Nothing will happen to me, Khushi,” he promised, his voice soft but firm. “Don’t cry. Please.” His arm held her close to him. “How can I die without spending years fighting with you and listening to the thousands of names you make up so effortlessly for me?” he tried to tease her.

“I would have died with you,” she whispered.

“I know,” he murmured in to her hair.

"I love you, you Natkhat, Behuda, Troublesome, Irritating, Dear Singh Raizada," she breathed.

His heart leaped in relief. "I know," he said softly.

"You do? That is good because I don't know why I love you," she growled.

Arnav chuckled, ignoring his bruised ribs. This was too good a moment to spoil with his aches and pains.

“You scared me, you...you Devilish Singh Raizada,” Khushi pouted. “I had to threaten Devi Maiyya to get you back.”

He smiled.

“You are so beautiful, Khushi,” he whispered, his fingers trailing over her back in the low-cut choli and orange silk sari.

Khushi moved back hastily and batted his hand away. “You are a deceiver, Flirt Singh Raizada,” she said. “Lying in bed and pretending to be sick so that I will shower love on you.”

“Will you, Khushi?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. “If you will, I will stay here forever...”

Khushi shut him up with her palm covering his mouth.

His needy eyes looked at her with single-minded devotion.

Her hand slipped away. She leaned forward to kiss him gently on his forehead, his eyebrows, his eyes, his nose, his cheeks and chin.

“Aur,” he groaned.

“No,” Khushi said. “Only after you leave this bed.”

He tried to get up.

“Arnavji! Aap bhi na!” Khushi pushed him back in place. “Go to sleep.”

“You will stay with me, Khushi?” he asked.

“Of course I will,” Khushi scoffed at the worry in his eyes. “I didn't pray and bring you back to leave you. And you have my red sari and necklace. I have to get them from you. How can I go home?”

He smiled slowly.

Her heart lightened at that delicious sight.

He caught her hand and placed it over his heart, his fingers pressing her digits over his thumping organ.

“So, am I the Other Woman?” Khushi asked, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“No, Khushi. You are the Only Woman for me.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and buried his lips in her palm. “The Only Woman,” he repeated against her skin.