Page 82 of Lawfully Yours

“Yes, ma’am. Noted. Apologies again for the inconvenience.”

She hung up.

“Are you sure?” Kushal asked. “We can shift.”

She met his eyes. “I just don’t want to pack and move at midnight. And…” She hesitated for a beat. “It’s just a door. We both know our boundaries.”

That line hit harder than she intended. He didn’t argue, didn’t smile. Just nodded, gripped his phone, and walked back into his room, the jacket still hanging over his arm.

The door between them remained half-closed.

Not locked.

Not open.

Exactly like the space that still existed between them.

Unfinished and waiting for a reprieve.

Chapter 14

Dalhousie – Hotel – Same Night

Kushal lay wide awake, tossing and turning in his bed, but it wasn’t the cold that kept him up. It was the image of her.

Arundhati.

He recalled how she looked a while ago, standing at the connecting door between their rooms, like she had no idea what she’d done to him. In that barely-there, house-cotton nightie, she’d looked innocent and sinful all at once.

That tiny scrap of fabric, those bare legs, the hint of her collarbone…God, she had no idea what it did to him.

She never wore anything like that when they were under the same roof. Back then, it had been all cotton pyjamas or silk robes. But tonight, she had let down her guard, not intentionally, perhaps, but enough to make every nerve in his body tense.

And then there was the jacket.

Hisjacket.

Lying right there on her bed like it belonged. And not neatly folded either. It was wrinkled. As if she’d curled around it, seeking comfort. Seekinghim.

That image had branded itself into his brain. That she could want his warmth enough to reach for something of his, but still wouldn’t reach forhim. He would have given her the real thing without hesitation. Would have pulled her into his arms and held her the entire night if she let him. But no. She was stillMrs.Egoistic Arundhati Nair, and these days her pride outran even his.

He sighed heavily, turning over again, his eyes inevitably finding the connecting door, which was still open between their rooms.

Here he was restless, burning, enduring the cruel irony of having her so close and yet out of reach. And there she was, probably sleeping like a rock, dreaming about legal wins while he suffered a slow, sleepless demise. The night couldn’t be cruel than this, he thought.

But just as he was about to turn again in frustration, something caught his attention.

The faint glow of a bedside lamp and a soft movement. Was she awake? Slowly, carefully, he got up and padded silently toward the door. He told himself that he wasn’t going there to intrude but just to make sure she was alright.

The moment he reached the connecting door, he saw her.

Arundhati stood at the edge of her bed, barefoot, still in that infuriatingly tiny nightie, her arms wrapped around herself as she tried to make her way to the closet. But she was moving too slowly, like baby steps. And that’s when he realised her body was shaking… actuallyshivering.

The next second, she swayed losing balance because the shivering turned intense.

He didn’t think.

He rushed in.