**ON HIATUS**
(IPKKND AU) This is no longer the story of a girl who crashed a fashion show and a man who thought she was a corporate spy.
It's her last year of college, and Khushi's family are looking for a husband for their youngest daughter. S...
Khushi sat between her Bua-ji and Jiji, trying to concentrate on Devi Maiyya but finding her eyes straying, again and again, to the figure that hovered to the side. She'd been confused when he hadn't joined in, and the realization that he wasn't religious had come to her slowly as she'd watched him pace and fidget with his phone.
I have to refuse him now, Devi Maiyya. How can I marry a man who doesn't believe in you? Look at him! If he can't respect you, if he can't appreciate you, how will he appreciate everything you've done for him?
Khushi was resolute, even though her heart ached at the thought. She couldn't marry someone who wouldn't participate in the biggest part of her life.
"Chhote," Anjali-ji called as they prepared for the aarti.
Khushi looked around in confusion. No one had mentioned any children.
Anjali-ji wears sindoor and a mangalsutra, yet no one talks about her husband. Maybe she has children too.
Then Arnav-ji slid the phone into his pocket and approached his sister, and Khushi forgot all about that mystery. She fought a smile as he took the thaal.
Chhote.
Unbidden, her mind imagined him at four or five, rushing about this house with a scowl on his face, his sister walking after him and calling out "Chhote". He was dressed entirely in black.
Did he let Anjali-ji catch him, despite her limp?
After completing the aarti and handing the thaal to his Mami, Arnav-ji moved to stand behind everyone. His arm brushed against hers as he angled past, walking through the small gap between her and her sister. Khushi closed her eyes as everything inside her warmed and her heart skipped several beats. Her hands were still trembling when she took the thaal from Jiji a few minutes later.
His Nani led everyone to the sitting area when they were done, but Khushi lingered, watching him discreetly as she helped Anjali-ji tidy up. He toyed with his phone in the corner. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth to ask him how his day had been, but he looked up at the same moment. Their gazes clashed, and that electric-magnetic feeling from the first day rushed back into her body, a tingle in her fingertips and a tremor in her legs.
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A box of matches slipped from her trembling hands to land on the floor. Khushi bent to pick it up, feeling the kiss of cool air across her back as her pallu slipped. She quickly righted it, the matches secure in her hand, and straightened just as Arnav-ji turned away. He disappeared up the stairs instead of joining their families, and the warmth in her body was chased away by the heavy feeling of disappointment.
Why did he ask to see me again if he wasn't going to say a single word?
She made conversation with his family in the sitting room, laughing with his sister as they swapped book recommendations, but her eyes strayed to the stairs more times than she could count. Her mind wandered, conjuring up the image of Arnav-ji leaning against a wall, his eyes holding her captive. Scowling, he offered a red rose, and refused to chase after her when she tapped it against his nose and ran away.
So unromantic, he's not like Salman-ji at all. He refuses to smile, even in my imagination!
Her family declined when Anjali-ji offered them a tour of the house, but Khushi followed eagerly with Jiji. The house was a confusing mess of corridors and rooms, pools and gardens. After walking to the end of one corridor only to turn into another, identical passageway, Khushi sighed.
"What's wrong, Khushi-ji?"
"Oh, nothing Anjali-ji. I was just thinking that you must need signs to get around this house, it's so big and confusing!"
"Khushi ..." Jiji murmured, pinching her discreetly in warning, but Anjali-ji only laughed.
"I'll mention it to Chhote," she said, and seeing Khushi's confused frown, explained, "This is his house. He had it built after AR turned its first profit."
Khushi's impression of him shifted with the knowledge that he'd built a home for the family that had taken him in as an orphan.
So he does appreciate things ... and he respects his family. I'm so confused, Devi Maiyya. He's a walking, talking contradiction!
"Come, I'll show you the terrace," Anjali-ji urged, leading them up a spiralled staircase.
They emerged onto the roof of the house, half of which was lost to a beautiful garden, with the other half used as a space for entertaining guests. There was a garden swing, a birdbath, and a generous under-cover area decorated with fairy lights. Unwillingly, Khushi fell a little more in love with this house.
With his world, her mind corrected.
The three of them talked for some time, flitting mindlessly from one topic to another, although Khushi noticed that Anjali-ji took every opportunity to praise her brother. She wondered where he was.
"Anjali-didi?" a hesitant voice interrupted them as Khushi regaled Anjali-ji with a story of her very first sweet-making ventures.
They turned to find a servant standing at the door to the terrace.
"Is everything alright, Hari Prakash-ji?"
"I need to speak with you," he responded.
Anjali-ji tried to cover her concern with a smile, but Khushi - a master at masking emotion herself - recognized that something had gone wrong.
"Khushi-ji, Payal-ji, I'll just check on this quickly. I'll be back to get you for dinner, please enjoy the terrace while I'm gone."
"We'll come with you," Jiji offered, but Anjali-ji shook her head.
"Stay. Enjoy the stars."
Khushi left her sister sitting on the swing and strolled around the garden, taking in the colourful flowers and rich greenery. It was maintained with love and care, and she wondered who was responsible for it. She spied a staircase on the other side of the terrace and - checking to see if Jiji was watching - approached them quickly. They led to the second level and ended in another garden. She could just make out a collection of potted plants in the moonlight. Khushi snuck down, hoping to take a peek at the plants, but was halted by a voice.
"I don't want excuses, Aman, I want results. Tell them if they can't deliver on their contract then we'll go after them with all the power of AR. I can't take this nonsense any more. This is unbelievable, dammit."
Warmth rushed through her at the sound of his voice, but it seeped away just as quickly when she registered his words. Khushi wondered his coldness, at the steel in his tone. She'd started to think he was kind behind that forbidding exterior, had tentatively hoped for a future, but this ...
Ignoring the way her heart seemed to drop into her shoes, Khushi tip-toed down a few more steps, wanting to hear him more clearly. He was a dark shadow slouched into a chair, a Bluetooth device blinking at his ear.
"No," he growled, "If you can't handle this then I don't know what I employ you for. I have enough to deal with without holding your hand."
She lowered herself down to the next step, needing to hear more.
