4

Khushi

Lying on the bed, I keep staring at the ceiling, unable to believe how my whole life has changed in a span of these four weeks.

I was a happy girl with loving parents, dreams, and ambitions just a month ago. I was about to graduate in six months, after which I was set to do an internship in one of the reputed publishing houses in Delhi.

I wanted to do the internship in Mumbai with my university friends, but Maa refused, saying she would not allow me to stay away from the house after being three years apart from me. She set her foot down, not listening to Papa or me when we tried to convince her.

She did that because she loved me and wanted me to be home with her. So, understanding her emotion, I applied for an internship in Delhi, and luckily, they accepted my application.

Maa was delighted when I gave her the news, and I was looking forward to it too. The internship first and then making my career as a writer.

But now, as I am locked here in this room, I have only one dream left. To run away from here and meet my parents.

I wonder if Maa and Papa miss me. Priya told me earlier that they do not love me anymore. I wonder if they also believe in all the lies Niranjan spewed that night and think I am immoral.

I do not raise my hands to wipe the tears that pour out of my eyes. What is the use anyway? No matter how much I wipe them, more keep coming, and I keep crying all day, every day.

I am now waiting for the day when all my tears will finally dry up.

I would have fought back and tried to escape, but ever since Priya accused me that day and the way Arnav used me, I no longer have any will to fight.

And what will I fight back for? I have lost everything.

Everyone thinks I am immoral and characterless, so I have lost my reputation.

My parents and sister hate me, so I have lost my family.

My husband brutally defiled my body, so I have lost my dignity and honor.

And the way Arnav has been treating me and punishing me, I know I have lost his love.

A wry smile makes my lips curve before I wince, the pain reminding me of all the slaps and rough kisses I received from Arnav two days back.

In the three weeks before that nightmarish night, I began to think Arnav had started liking me. But I had been wrong.

If Arnav liked me, he would have at least given me the benefit of the doubt and would have listened to my side of the story before judging me to be guilty.

He would have never punished me the way he did if he had even the slightest of feelings towards me.

So, I guess I did not lose his love then. How can I lose it when I never had it in the first place?

Therefore, I have realized now that I was so stupid. Stupid enough to think that he liked me and stupid enough to start falling for a man like him.

He is so different from the man I used to envision loving and marrying someday.

I used to think I would fall for a man who would be kind, loving, and cheerful. Instead, I fell for Arnav, an unfeeling, brooding, and brutal monster.

Our first meeting had not gone well, and his attitude and behavior that day made me want to stay away from him.

And stay away, I did. I avoided talking with Arnav or going in front of him for three days after our first meeting until his grandmother told me about his tragic past.

Knowing about it made me sympathetic toward him, and I began to understand the reason behind his hard exterior.

His pain resonated with me because I also lost my parents at a young age. I could understand how traumatizing it must have been for him to see his parents die in front of him.

And then the weight of his sister's responsibility must have been huge on his shoulder, given that they had been kicked out of their house just a few days after their parents' death.

I still remember the day I went to him after learning about his past. I wanted to apologize because I felt guilty for judging him based on just our first meeting.

***********

I walked to Arnav's room and saw that the door was open.

As I peered inside the room, I saw him sitting on the couch and typing on his laptop.

Hesitantly knocking on the door, I waited for him to call me inside.

He looked up at me, but instead of calling me inside, he completely ignored my presence and looked back at his laptop screen, resuming typing.

Although his attitude incensed me, I took a few deep breaths to control my irritation.

'It's ok, Khushi. Remember, you are here to apologize. Just do that and go.'

With that thought in my mind, I again knocked on the door.

I noticed him take a deep breath before standing from the couch where he was seated.

He walked toward me, and once he was close enough, he folded his hands over his chest and started speaking. "Yes, Ms. Agarwal? What do you want?"

"Umm, Mr. Rathore, I came here to apologize to you," I said, and he frowned at my statement.

To clarify, I started explaining. "You see, after our first meeting, I started avoiding you because I thought you to be a rude, mean, ignorant, and insufferable assho--" He interrupted me before I could complete the sentence.

"Is this your way to apologize, Ms. Agarwal? By calling me a rude, mean, ignorant, and insufferable asshole?" He asked me with an amused expression on his face.

"I did not say asshole," I countered, and he shook his head.

"You would have said that if I had not interrupted you," he said to me with a smirk marring his face.

I could not figure out what it was about that arrogant smirk on his face that I felt like punching it off.

"I would not have said asshole," I told him, not wanting to admit he was right.

"Oh, really? What would you have said then, Ms. Agarwal?" He asked me, that annoying smirk still intact on his face.

I thought about what reply to give him as I really was going to say asshole then.

But I could not admit it as it would only boost his ego and arrogance.

So, I started to think about the words that begin with assho-, but nothing came to mind.

"I am still waiting for your answer, Ms. Agarwal. You see, unlike you, I am a very busy man, and every second of mine is precious," he said, and I glared at him.

Every word that came out of this man's mouth pressed all my wrong buttons, which was why I felt nothing but irritation and annoyance at him.

"Well, Mr. Rathore, my time is more precious than yours. That is why I do not want to waste it by repeating my words. If you wanted to know, you should not have interrupted me in the first place."

'Take that, Mr. Arrogant Asshole Rathore.' I smiled, pleased by the nickname because that precisely suited his personality.

Continuing to smile mockingly at him, I turned to walk away but stopped when he called me.

"Ms. Agarwal, you came here to apologize, but I did not hear a sorry from your mouth," I heard him say.

Turning back at him, I gave him my fakest smile. "I came to apologize because, for a moment, I felt like I judged you wrongly. But now, after talking with you, I have found you to exactly be the person I thought you to be. So, there is nothing to apologize for."

***********

I had walked away from him then.

Arnav and I talked two times in five days, and both times, it was disastrous.

Well, disastrous, at least for me.

Because I do not know what happened to him after our second meeting, but he softened towards me a bit.

And it was then that our story began.

The happy part of the story only lasted for two weeks because after that started the dreadful part which I am living now.

Closing my eyes, I let more tears pour as I remember the happy days.

But I immediately stiffen when I hear the door open.

Arnav has removed all the locks from the door, saying that a slut like me doesn't deserve privacy. So, anyone can now come to my room whenever they please.

Arnav has even instructed his maids to not knock when they bring food for me. He says a homewrecking whore like me should not get that basic privilege to decide on who can or cannot come to my room.

I feel a pinch in my heart whenever I recount the lewd insults he has been throwing at me since the wedding night.

All thoughts still in my head and I jolt out of my reverie as those steps get louder, letting me know that he is near.

My breathing gets shallow and heart thumps faster against my chest when I hear those steps getting louder with each passing second.

The steps that I have come to recognize as his.

The steps that has started evoking terror within me.

Fear engulfs me as I hear those steps getting nearer.

I want to sit and curl up in the corner of the bed, but my body is too sore, and my limbs are still aching after what Arnav did to me two days back.

So, I keep lying, my heart beating in staccato in fear of what Arnav will do to me- or accuse me of- next.