Page 96 of Lawfully Yours

She saw the soft touches…on her lower back, on her cheek, the way his fingers used to tuck her hair behind her ears when she was flustered. The desperate kisses in the hallway after long, stupid fights. The whispered apologies between them. The wayhe spooned her in bed, his arms tightly around her, like she was the one anchor he couldn’t let go of.

And then there was now—his confession of wanting a second chance, his flirting in Dalhousie, the way he ended up in her bed twice. There was Kushal and only Kushal in all those flashbacks.

Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. She didn’t move to stop them. She couldn’t!

And then she felt his touch. Not on her face. Not on her shoulder. But along the parting of her hair.

Her eyes flew open as she met his gaze. Kushal’s fingers lingered just above her forehead, coated with red. He had filled hermaang (forehead partition)with the temple’ssindoor.

Arundhati stared at him, her heart thundering, and her eyes wide. He didn’t explain. He didn’t ask her what she’d seen during prayer. He didn’t need to.

Because he already knew.

It had been him.Him and only him.

Still stunned, she reached up and touched her hairline, her fingers brushing the fresh streak of vermillion. She looked down at his hand, still dusted with red, and then, without a word, turned and walked out of the temple.

He followed her.

“Aru,” he called. “Stop.”

She stopped just beyond the temple steps, arms crossed tightly around her chest, defensive as always.

“What’s wrong?” he asked reaching closer.

“What’s wrong?” she echoed bitterly. “Are you serious right now? You really don’t see what’s wrong with this?” Her finger jabbed toward her forehead. “You made that choice for me, Kushal. You decided something sacred without even asking.”

He didn’t flinch.“What’s wrong with it? Technically, you’re still my wife, Aru.”

“In two weeks, we have our next divorce hearing!”

“So?” he shot back. “Even if that hearing were today, even if the judge declared us divorced this morning, I would still do the same thing. I meant what I said. I want a second chance. I said it out loud. I owned it. But you? You’re hiding behind your anger, your pride, your goddamn stubborn silence.”

She stared at him, fury rippling off her. “You think I’m hiding feelings for you?”

He stepped closer. “Yes, you are. You want me too. Your tears in that temple said everything. But you’re too wrapped up in your pride to admit it. Or maybe,” his voice lowered, “you’ve already admitted it to yourself, but you don’t have the courage to say it aloud.”

Her glare deepened. She opened her mouth to answer, to scream, but the sharp ring of her phone cut through the tension. She yanked it out, answering with irritation. “Yes, Akash?”

She turned away from Kushal, wiping her tears roughly, while pressing the speaker button so Kushal could hear it too. They had received the call records of Noyonika from Kushal’s source in the morning and had promptly sent them to Akash for analysis.

Akash’s voice crackled through. “Got the analysis done on the call records Kushal Sir forwarded. There’s no link between Noyonika and Sadhna. There are no calls placed that prove Sadhna had asked Noyonika to set up that media ambush.”

Kushal barely reacted, still fuming over their earlier argument. But Arundhati gave a curt nod, trying to absorb the news.

Akash continued, “But… there’s something else. Noyonika’s call history shows repeated contact with someone else. Almost eighteen calls over the last month.”

Arundhati and Kushal exchanged a glance, brows furrowed.

“From whom?” she asked.

Akash hesitated a moment.

“Kamya. Kamya Bakshi.”

Both of them froze.

Kamya?