Page 130 of Lawfully Yours

Kushal’s shoulders stiffened. This wasn’t just professional, it was deeply personal. And Raj Verma had always known that.

A beat passed. Then Kushal ran a hand through his hair, composing himself. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I was just—” he paused to exhale.

“—worried for her,” Raj finished that statement for him.

Kushal nodded.

“I didn’t mind it, Kushal. Not one bit,” Raj replied. “Because that’s all I’ve ever wanted. For someone to be there for Arundhati like I am there for her.”

Kushal didn’t hesitate. He met Raj’s gaze. “I’ll always be there for her. No matter what’s happening between us... she always will be my priority.”

Raj gave a faint nod in return, that hard legal exterior softening just slightly as he stepped aside.

“Go see her. She’s in the library. Said she didn’t want to be in her cabin.”

Kushal didn’t waste another second. After all the cautious, tentative steps they’d taken toward each other since Dalhousie, he wasn’t going to let one media ambush undo it all. Not when they were finally inching back to something that almost felt likethem. But that wasn’t why he was pacing toward the eighth floor, not entirely. He just needed to see her. Look into her eyes and know that she was okay. That she hadn’t shut down completely again.

The library was quiet as always. Unless someone needed to reference ancient case files or dig into outdated law journals, it had become a quiet sanctuary in the otherwise chaotic building. And that’s exactly where she’d chosen to disappear. He could guess why. Maybe she was hiding. Or maybe she was avoiding the one person she knew would come looking for her first.

He stepped into the library and instantly spotted her, tucked away between shelves, flipping through old files like she had something urgent to find. She didn’t look up. But he knew she had sensed him. Her back had stiffened slightly, fingers moving faster across the brittle pages.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“I’m busy,” she replied without looking at him.

He walked ahead, closing the space between them. “You meantryingto be busy?”

She turned sharply. “What do you want, Kushal?”

He didn’t flinch. If anything, her fire only pulled him closer. He stepped into the narrow aisle between the bookcases, moving in until there was almost no space left between them.

“Do you really want me to spell it out? What I want?” he teased, then reached up, about to touch her cheek, but she pulled back, his arm falling uselessly by his side.

“Kushal,please.”

He inhaled, composing himself. Fine. He’d cut to it.

“I saw the press meet,” he said, coming to the point. “It didn’t go well.”

She turned away again, eyes back on the file. “Itdidgo well. We answered what we had to.”

“But you weren’t ready for those personal questions. If I had been there, I would’ve stopped them before they spun out of control.”

She shrugged. “That’s your lookout. It didn’t matter to me what you would’ve replied to those questions. I was there to do my part…inform the media about the legal proceedings in Anant’s case, and I did exactly that.”

That stung more than he expected.

“If it didn’t matter, then why did you zone out like that?” he asked.

Her body went rigid.

“I’ve seen you hold your ground in courtrooms packed with vultures, Aru,” he continued. “You’ve stood in front of press panels, shut down smirking prosecutors like it was child’s play. You never wavered. Not once. So why this time? Because it matters.”

Arundhati swallowed hard. Her hands clutched the old file, but her fingers weren’t moving anymore. Her lips parted, maybe to answer, maybe to deflect, but before she could speak, there was a soft knock at the door.

They both turned.

Akash, the young junior lawyer, poked his head in, awkward but apologetic. “Uh… sorry to interrupt,” he said hesitantly before stepping into the library, holding a slim folder.