Page 79 of Lawfully Yours

“I’m not playing the victim here, Aru. If manipulation was what I wanted to do with you, you’d never have walked out that door nine months ago. You wouldn’t have left me. You wouldn’t have made it two steps out of our home if I’d truly wanted to control our marriage.”

There was no smirk now. No teasing. Just wounded pride and too much truth.

For a second, her heart caved.

But she didn’t say a word.

The moment he released her hand, she stood and walked away while Kushal sat back in his chair, eyes heavy, and finished his meal in silence.

Alone…again.

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

She stepped out of the restaurant with hurried steps, the ache in her chest sharper than the wind that met her outside. The soft glow of the garden lights led her to the back lawn of the resort. It was a quiet, secluded area nestled on the edge of the property. A low stone boundary separated the manicured garden from the breathtaking view of the Dhauladhar mountain range, now a shadowy silhouette under the night sky. Dalhousie’s chill had settled deeper with the fall of darkness, and the cold pierced through her woollen dress and thin cardigan, but she barely registered it.

She walked toward the edge, then stopped, arms folding across her chest. And just like that, the tears she had been holding back finally slipped free.

It wasn’t just what he had said, it washowhe had said it. The way his eyes didn’t beg for pity but carried years of unspoken pain. For so long, she had seen Kushal as this ambitious, charming, emotionally inaccessible man who had hurt her by keeping secrets, by making decisions she never agreed to. But tonight, for a moment, he hadn’t looked like any of that. He had just looked… human.

And she had snapped at him, using cruel words and a dismissive tone. As if the confession of a lonely, grieving eleven-year-old boy trying to feed himself didn’t matter. How could she call his pain part of his manipulation?

She hated herself for it.

Arundhati hated herself for what she did, and hugged herself tighter, almost shaking, not just from the cold, but from the shame crawling across her skin. She knew what it meant to lose parents young. But she had been fortunate that Raj uncle had taken her in, surrounded her with love and stability. She never had to cook a bland meal alone at eleven, never had to sit at atable and stare at an empty chair, willing it to be filled. She had grieved, yes, but never known that kind of silence.

She should have listened better.

Should have understood.

Should have let him speak without trying to protect her pride.

The wind picked up, and she turned her face away from it, eyes squeezed shut. The cardigan she wore offered little defence. But she didn’t move. It felt right to be cold. A self-inflicted punishment for what she did with Kushal when he was at his lowest.

But just then, without warning, she felt a thick jacket smelling faintly like him draped gently over her shoulders. His large hands covered her upper body from the chilling cold in a quiet, wordless gesture.

She didn’t need to look to know it was him.

Her hands reached up and clutched the lapels of the jacket tightly around her, her throat closing with guilt so fierce it nearly strangled her. Despite everything she’d said, he had come looking for her. Despite the fact that she had thrown his pain back at him and called it a performance. He had still noticed she was shivering. He still cared enough to protect her.

She turned instantly, heart thudding, ready to say something. But he was already walking away.

Gone, without waiting for thanks. Or her apology.

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

An hour later

Arundhati returned to the resort nearly an hour later. She walked silently through the warm hallway, stopping in front of her room. Kushal’s door was right next to hers.

Her fingers hovered over the jacket wrapped tightly around her. She could knock. She could hand it back and say the one word she owed him—sorry. But not knowing how to framethe apology and if he would be even interested in bearing her anymore tonight, held her still. So she decided to say it tomorrow.

She unlocked her door, stepped inside, and slowly walked over to the recliner, removing the jacket from her shoulders. She folded it gently and placed it there as if it were something sacred.A part of him.

Determined not to overthink, she then headed straight to the bathroom. A long hot water bath followed, steam rising like a cocoon around her body as she tried to wash away the guilt, the tension, the memories. But Kushal’s words, his confession, his pain, looped in her mind like an unstoppable reel.

Wrapped in a towel, she padded into the now-warm room, dimmed the lights, and picked out a nightdress from her luggage. A clingy, house-cotton nightie that barely grazed her mid-thigh.

She applied lotion to her arms and legs in silence, then crawled into the bed, tucking herself in under the thick duvet. She’d barely rested her head on the pillow when her eyes found the jacket again, lying alone on the recliner. The memory of him draping it over her shoulders returned. Without thinking, she rose from the bed and crossed to it. Picked it up. Sniffed it.