One Day At A Time

Epilogue One

Mid-April, 1998
London 18:00

All ambitious plans to meet up towards the end of January and thereafter had died a brutal death when neither Arnav nor Khushi could make time for a single trip to see each other. Work had tied them up in manacles and drowned them completely, leaving frustration simmering in their hearts as days dragged on, the only respite being the long, desperate phone calls almost every day. When the date for their wedding was finalised in the first week of May, they had given up making plans as even the thought of taking any time off work before that was now utterly inconceivable. The only time to look forward to besides their wedding was in September when Khushi was meant to resign from the job and move to London for good after seeing through the new drug launch of her company in August. Despite Arnav's offer and willingness to move to New York, she had happily chosen to do so and was looking forward to starting a new life with him in London.

And so it seemed like waiting to be with each other had become a prominent feature of their life. Arnav sighed with the thought as he stepped into the elevator of his building, glancing at his watch, wondering if it was a good time to call Khushi. She was meant to fly out to India in exactly two days, two weeks before their wedding, and he was expected to follow her a week later. She had booked a flight with a five-hour stopover in London before continuing her journey to Mumbai. The UK visa formalities had been sorted out for her to step out for those few hours, and Arnav had been running through hundreds of options every free minute of his life, wondering how best to utilise those few stolen moments with her. Even a few hours would do, he thought, his pulse quickening with the thought of seeing her again in two days after what seemed like an excruciatingly painful long spell of separation. Suddenly the longing of the four years they had stayed apart before paled in comparison to the one they had experienced in the last four months of staying away from each other.

He turned the key to his apartment door, feeling tired and exhausted. It had been a rough day again at work, with the markets having played him like a fiddle all day. And all he wished to do right now was crawl into bed and give into the slumber which had finally eased back into his life after years of playing peekaboo with him. Unfortunately, he couldn't afford that luxury as he was meant to step out again to meet a client for dinner. Groaning at the thought, he stepped into a brightly lit living room, a Bryan Adams song playing on the music system on a soft volume. A frown marred his face wondering why the cleaner had turned up today and decided to play—

Oh yeah, I wanna be your hot tub, when you dippin'
I wanna be your bathrobe, ah, when you drippin'
I wanna be your coffee, baby, yeah, when you sippin
I just wanna be right there, more than anything I swear
I wanna be your....

Standing paralysed for a few moments, Arnav struggled to draw air into his lungs, listening to her voice. She was singing along in a loud voice. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating.

Khush.

Heart thumping in his throat, he was galvanised into movement. Flinging his bag aside on the sofa, he half flew the vast expanse of the living room in a few seconds to reach the kitchen door from where he thought he had heard her voice.

And there she stood with her back facing him, barefoot, the black anklet wrapped in startling contrast against her light skin around her ankle, her hair lying in an unbrushed silken tangle about her shoulders up to her waist, wearing a simple floral shift dress that clung to her slender figure and left a good portion of her long legs on show. He dragged in a constricted breath of air and begged his heart to calm down. She had the natural curvaceously slender, long-legged figure that would incite even a saint to stare. And right now, he was neither a saint nor his thoughts saintly.