Page 123 of Lawfully Yours

But even she didn’t believe her own lie.

And he definitely didn’t.

She didn’t wait for his response and just pushed herself off the edge of the desk. She needed an exit. A way to end this conversation before it spiralled into something she couldn’t control.

“I need coffee,” she said abruptly, brushing past him without meeting his eyes. “Didn’t get any this morning.”

It was a weak excuse. She knew he’d hear it for what it was…an escape.

But Kushal didn’t chase her now. Maybe he’d let her have this moment of space.

But she knew him.

He would come for answers.

And this time, he wouldn’t walk away without them.

Chapter 22

Night - Kushal’s Penthouse

Kushal tossed on his bed, the duvet now crumpled at his waist, his bare chest glistening with a faint sheen of sweat. The AC was on. The temperature was perfect. His body was tired, and aching. But sleep? Once again, nowhere close. His head and heart wasn’t on this bed, it was a few streets away, spinning in circles around one woman.

His wife, Arundhati.

It wasn’t even the Dalhousie memories that kept crashing over him tonight, though there were enough of those to make any man lose his sanity. No, this time it was what she had said that morning to Kamya:

“I already have everything. I just don’t intend to lose it again.”

That kind of declaration didn’t need context to hit where it hurt. And it hit him hard in the centre of his chest.

She had meant him.She didn’t want to lose him.

That sentence had wrapped around his mind like a noose ever since. He smiled at the thought. Hell, he grinned like an idiot, like some teenager with a crush.

When he had heard her say that, a part of him wanted to reach her, scoop her face in between his palms and kiss her senseless right then.Right there. But she’d ruined it like always. She’d turned away, shut him out with that perfect, infuriatingvoice, stating,“Don’t read too much into it, I just wanted the upper hand this time.”

Upper hand,my a*s.

He grabbed a pillow and threw it across the bed, sighing into the silence. It was twelve minutes to midnight. He had court at 9:30. Testimonies to prep. Clients to brief. Witness cross-examinations to run through. None of it mattered. Not tonight.

Because he was too busy thinking, he had ten more hours until he could see her again at the office. Ten hours felt like ten goddamn years.

He dragged his hand across his face, the stubble scratching against his palm. “This is madness,” he muttered, kicking the duvet off completely. “I’m losing it.”

But the truth was, he already had. In their three days at Dalhousie, he’d become completely, stupidly addicted to her again.

He tried shutting his eyes again, forcing his thoughts to detangle. But the moment his lids fell, he saw her—barefoot, standing next to his bed in that silky nightwear, her hair loose, those eyes looking up at him like they always knew too much.

Enough.

With a grunt, he threw the sheet aside and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. No more waiting. No more pretending that she hadn’t burrowed her way under every nerve ending in his body.

He got up and put on his T-shirt again, which was lying lifeless on the other side of the bed. He then ran a quick hand through his hair, grabbed his phone and wallet from the dresser, and headed out of the bedroom.

The penthouse echoed with each purposeful footstep he took. He snatched the keys from the console table with more aggression than necessary, and pushing open the door, hewalked out…into the night, into the city, and toward the only woman who could undo him this effortlessly.

****************