Page 179 of Lawfully Yours

“So tonight, I’m asking you, not as a husband bound by law, not as a man trying to fix the past, but as the fool who still can’t breathe right when you’re not near me. Will you let me be the man who learns to love you better this time? To touch you without any restrictions, to hold you without letting go, to make you forget every reason you ever had to doubt us?”

A sob caught in her throat; her hands trembled as they reached up to hold his face.

“Kushal…” she whispered, voice breaking, “yes… yes.”

“Then let me seal that promise,” he said, lifting the Mangalsutra and sliding it gently around her neck, his fingertips brushing the nape of her neck in a slow, reverent caress. “This time, not as a symbol of what we were… but of what I choose to be again…completely, endlessly, recklessly yours.”

Her tears fell freely as she threw her arms around him, pressing herself against his chest. His hands came up instinctively, holding her tight. He held her as if he could imprint her heartbeat against his chest. Neither of them spoke for a while.

His hand rose to her hair, fingers threading through the strands, cradling the back of her head.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed holding you like this,” he murmured. “I could fight the whole world, Aru, but not this… not us.”

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. His thumb swept across her cheek, wiping the traces of her tears before his gaze dropped to her lips.

That one look was enough. He bent down slowly, his lips almost grazing hers, when she stopped him, smiling through her tears.

“We’re both fasting,” she reminded. “You can kiss me after the puja.”

He groaned softly, resting his forehead against hers. “When does the moon rise?”

She checked the clock on the wall. “Another hour.”

He sighed dramatically, making her laugh through her tears.

“Go freshen up,” she said, wiping her face. “We’re breaking our fast properly tonight.”

He gave her one last look before sighing. He then turned away and walked to the bathroom.

Behind him, Arundhati touched the Mangalsutra again and looked at her in the mirror reflection. Tonight, would be the beginning of everything again, and she couldn’t wait.

Chapter 35

Kushal’s Penthouse – Karwa Chauth Night

The moon shimmered high above the cityscape, casting a silver glow over the penthouse terrace. Kushal stood at the sliding glass door of the balcony, dressed in the deep maroon sherwani Arundhati had carefully picked and laid out for him while he showered.

She was busy setting everything for the Karwa Chauth puja…arranging the thali and lighting diyas while Kushal couldn’t take his eyes off her. She looked like the perfect wife and was heartbreakingly beautiful.

She lit the diyas, her bangles tinkling softly in rhythm with her movements as her husband admired her from not very far.

“You look like a pro with all this,” he murmured from behind her.

She smiled without turning.

“Not a pro yet… my first time actually doing this. But I’ve grown up watching everyone in my family, my aunts, cousins doing Karwa Chauth for their partners… So, I guess it just comes naturally.”

He gently nodded, recalling last year by Karwa Chauth, everything between them had started falling apart. That was when the distance grew, the misunderstandings hardened, and she walked out. She hadn’t hence fasted for him nor he. But never again.

He pushed off the glass door and walked up behind her, circling his arms around her waist. His chest pressed against her back as his nose brushed against her neck, nuzzling the curve between her shoulder and collarbone.

“How much more time?” he murmured with impatience.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “We can start the puja,” she whispered.

He exhaled like a man given a reprieve, though what he wanted had nothing to do with food or water.

She turned around, facing him, and they began together. She offered water to the moon first, then turned and raised the chalni (sieve) to her face, looking at him through it…her husband, the man she had loved through heartbreak and healing, now standing there as if he’d never stopped being hers.