RISHTAA: An Arranged Love (IPKKND AU) **ON HIATUS**

Chapter 13: Khushi

Arnav-ji was not good at texting.

Khushi sat on the bed, her phone in her hands, a cup of tea and a small plate of jalebi balanced on a tray in front of her. She'd spent the last three days experimenting.

His messages were short, concise to a fault, and utterly unromantic. Questions – Your favourite book? – were usually met with brief replies, and open-ended observations – Anjali-ji is organising a picnic! – with silence.

Help me Devi Maiyya, he doesn't even understand emojis.

"Khushi?"

She slid the phone under her leg as her sister returned to their bedroom.

"So," Jiji spread her towel on the windowsill to dry, "Are you finally going to tell me about your walk with Arnav-ji? What did you two talk about?"

"Nothing," Khushi sipped her tea.

Her sister pouted, "You can't even tell your Jiji?"

"It was really nothing. Just festivals and flowers."

Jiji joined her on the bed, "He doesn't say much, does he?"

"Abhishek-ji doesn't speak a lot either," Khushi pointed out defensively.

She felt her cheeks heat. Her sister considered her as she sipped from a second cup.

"You really like him."

"I'm being smart," Khushi claimed, dodging Jiji's question, "Abhishek-ji lives in Delhi but your proposals came from all over. I want to stay near you, so I'll only consider men who live here."

"Is that so?"

"Did you know that it only takes twenty minutes to get to Abhishek-ji's house from Shantivan?"

"And how long does it take to get to a mental asylum?"

"Jiji!"

"When you were younger," Jiji giggled, "you thought that we should marry brothers. That way, we'd always be together."

"Abhishek-ji doesn't have a brother, only two younger sisters, so I had to look elsewhere."

Winking, Khushi gathered the cups and plate and headed out of the room. She paused on the other side of the door. Arnav-ji's rich laughter rang in her ears. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his fingers against hers, recalling the heady mixture of sandalwood and cedar that had clung to her clothes long after she'd returned his jacket.

"Khushi," she heard his voice.

Her eyes flew open, but she was alone in the corridor. She shook her head at her own folly as she made for the kitchen. Babu-ji's voice floated to her as she set the tray on the counter.

"There's nothing to worry about, Jiji. Devyani-ji just called to clarify a few things."

Khushi froze.

"Like what?" Bua-ji asked.

"A dowry. She mentioned that —"

"—They're so rich, Nand Kishore," Bua-ji spluttered, "what do they need a dowry for?"

In the kitchen, Khushi took half a step forward, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Jiji ..." Babu-ji began.

"The nerve of them! He hasn't even said yes! Neither has our Sanka Devi. And they're asking—"

"—Jiji!" Babu-ji interrupted, "Devyani-ji called to say that they aren't expecting a dowry. She sensed hesitation on our part and wanted to clear that up."