Page 25 of Lawfully Yours

Raj didn’t respond immediately. But when he finally spoke, his voice was almost sad.

“I’ve seen you both, Aru. You may not have had love in the way most couples do, but there was something.”

“Maybe once,” she admitted, staring at the empty space beside her on the bed. “But whatever it was, it’s gone now.”

“You’re just being stubborn.”

“I’mbeing stubborn?” she snapped. “Have you seenyourgolden boy, Kushal, and the wayhetreats me at work? Ignores me like I don’t exist half the time?”

“Have you ever asked him why?”

She froze.

“If he truly didn’t care,” Raj continued, “he would have agreed to the divorce and moved on. But he hasn’t. And that should tell you something.”

“It tells me he’s stubborn and arrogant and refuses to lose.”

“Or maybe,” Raj said quietly, “it tells you that this isn’t as dead as you think it is.”

Arundhati shut her eyes, gripping the phone tighter.

“Uncle, please… don’t do this.”

Raj sighed. “I just want you to think, Aru. Just once. If you and Kushal really wanted nothing to do with each other anymore, would you still be fighting this hard?”

The question hung between them, heavier than before.

Arundhati closed her eyes, forcing the truth away as Raj asked again. “Is that really what you want, Aru?”

“Yes.”

Another long pause. Her throat felt tight.

“Aru—”

“Good night, Uncle.” She said firmly, disconnecting the call before he could say anything else.

Arundhati placed her phone on the bedside table. No matter what her uncle said, no matter what the past had been, she wasn’t going back.

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

Family Court – First Trial Date (Two days Later)

The courtroom was busy. Although the press had been barred from entering, that didn’t stop the whispers, the hushed excitement from the legal circles who had gathered to witness the divorce battle between Arundhati and Kushal Nair.

It was, after all, a case unlike any other.

Two of the country’s most ruthless and sharp-minded divorce lawyers, who had torn apart marriages for a living, were now facing off against each other in their own divorce.

And everyone wanted to see who would win.

Dressed in a pristine white shirt, neatly tucked into tailored black trousers, and a perfectly fitted black lawyer’s coat, Arundhati stepped into the courtroom. Her long raven-black hair was secured in an elegant twist, her sharp kohl-lined eyes focused straight ahead.

She had done this countless times before: walked into a courtroom, demanded attention without a single word, andcommanded respect. But today was different. Today, she was the one standing on trial. And the man she was fighting against was none other than her own husband. Or at least, the man who refused to stop being her husband.

She ignored the curious stares, the murmurs that rose in the background.

She didn’t care about the audience.