Page 83 of Lawfully Yours

“Aru?” He caught her before she could stumble.

She startled slightly but didn’t resist his hold.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern darkening his tone.

She took a shivering breath and whispered, “I am cold. Wanted the extra quilt.”

He cursed softly under his breath, his hold tightening around her as he guided her back to the bed. “Lie down. I’ll get it.”

She didn’t argue. She was too cold and shivering to pretend she didn’t need him.

He helped her lie down on the bed again and pulled the existing comforter over her, tucking it around her shoulders, before crossing the room with purpose. He opened the closet and pulled out the thick, folded blanket she’d been heading for, then returned to her bed.

“This is what happens when you go out there in a cardigan like it’s springtime,” he muttered, spreading the blanket over her. He was talking about the scene after dinner when she had been enjoying the cold breeze at the back of the resort, and he had draped his jacket over her to protect her from the cold.

“No scarf. No jacket. You know the cold doesn’t suit you,” he added angrily.

She watched him in silence, still shivering, eyes wide as he fussed around her like a man possessed…not by anger, but by the sheer need to make sure she was warm and safe.

But he wasn’t done.

He turned around, vanished into his room for a few seconds, and returned with his own duvet in hand. Without saying anything, he added it to the growing pile of covers over her.

“There,” he said, almost breathless now. “That should do it.”

She didn’t stop him.

She couldn’t.

She just lay there, blinking up at him, overwhelmed by the contrast between how far apart they were… and how intimately he still knew her.

This was him. The man who remembered that she hated cold air in her lungs, who knew her limits better than she admitted them herself. The same man who was hurt just hours ago, but was still here, without hesitation, when she needed him.

“You didn’t have to,” she murmured finally, her voice small.

“Yes, I did.”

There was no arrogance in his reply. No flirtation. Just honesty.

As Arundhati lay beneath the pile of blankets, still shivering, her mind betrayed her by pulling her back to another winter’s night.

It was in Delhi, not long after their wedding. She had gone out for dinner with a college friend. Her car had broken down right outside the restaurant. Her friend had offered to drop her home on a scooter. It was only three kilometres. It had felt harmless at the time.

But that ride had sliced the wind through her like needles. The icy Delhi air had cut into her ears and skin, and by the time she reached their home, she was trembling uncontrollably. Kushal had panicked, although he never showed it with words. That was never his way. Instead, he had responded with instinct. He’d piled one blanket after another over her. But when nothing helped, then, without a word, he had climbed into bed with her, pulled her into his arms, and wrapped his body around hers. She remembered how shocked she had been. Not because of the intimacy. They had been sharing a bed since the wedding. But because of the urgency. The care. His bare skin against her chilled limbs, the way he had rubbed her back, her arms, her thighs, the way his legs tangled with hers, creating friction, transferring every ounce of his warmth into her like she was the last ember he refused to let die.

It had taken an hour, but eventually, she had stopped shivering.

And now, almost a year later, in a hotel room in Dalhousie, Arundhati was in the exact same state. But this time, the space between them was filled with too much past. Too many unsaid things. Too many bruises they hadn’t addressed.

Still, her body remembered.

Her heart remembered.

And Kushal… he stood at the edge of her bed, staring at her the same way he had that night…torn between restraint and helplessness. She saw it in his eyes. The way his fingers twitched at his side, as though his body wanted to repeat what it knew had worked before.

He shook his head, as if forcing himself to behave.

But then he moved quietly and sat down at the edge of the bed. His fingers found her arms over the blanket and began rubbing. Back and forth. Slow, firm, warm.