Gathering her shocked and broken self and mustering every damn courage existing, she walked towards the bed where her luggage was kept.

Picking up the luggage, she looked at her husband, who was sitting at his place, now, not only with his wounded palm but feet as well. Blood oozing, dripping and spreading on the floor making it look horrifying.

That sight terrified her and something horrible played back in her mind.

She has seen it, felt it and had been through it during her horrible days. That time Arnav was her anchor.

But then her, then and now only anchor has made her stand at the brink today.

He not only lied but cheated on her and most probably killed their little one.

But his actions says otherwise. What is it?

What should she conclude from his outburst?

Who is he?

What is his real face, the real side of his story?

She clutched her hairs with one hand while stuffing her balled fist, she tried to muffle her pain, her cries.

She needs to know the truth and and she knows what she needs to do to trigger him, to touch his sensitive spot.

Dabbing her face with her saree pallu, she picked up her luggage and tried walk past him when all of a sudden he stood and clutched her forearms with his wounded, bleeding hands.

She shrieked, nevertheless feeling his hot blood on her forearms. Nausea hit her hard and she puked right at him, spoiling his shirt.

She shrieked feeling terrible and awful to experience something like this.

She couldn't make an eye contact with her husband unable to see the disgust in his eyes with the terrible thing she did.

She felt him leaving her and somewhere, something cracked. Her heart thudded with unknown fear gripping and next second, she jumped at her place feeling something touching her lips. She looked aghast finding her husband wiping her lips with the tissue. With watered and ashamed eyes she dared to look up at her husband only to find him uncleaned still with her puke stained shirt and not bothered or disgusted about it a bit but hell-worried about her.

Being cleaned by her husband, all she could see in his eyes were the emotions of care, angst, fear, plead and love.

She closed her eyes feeling him wiping her tears feeling overwhelmed but no sooner she closed her eyes, those painful memories hit her back.

Him, being too close to Lavanya.

Him, being disgusted for being with someone and loving someone else.

Him, leaving her high and dry with no ounce of feelings.

Him, holding amd hugging Lavanya with possession.

And, at last,

The devasting memory which made her push him back to stagger.

Him, confessing about her pregnancy and then, the loss of their baby, the unborn who could have come into this world, their world and graced it beautifully.

She opened her eyes with fresh, hot tears spilling while he had pained expressions on his face.

She wanted to run away, nevertheless, felt herself glued at her place. No matter, how hard she tried, she felt her heart stuck with the one standing behind him.

Feeling too helpless, she turned and said with helpless angst-

One chance Arnav, one more chance for you to explain your deeds. Get changed and come downstairs.

He heard his wife saying rather ordering this and then walking outside giving him a ray of hope to hold upon.

He won't let the matter slip now.

He won't let her be away this time.

He would go to any extent to keep her with him, even if ut costs, him confining every damn secret, he has been keeping with her.

If only he knew, what now she has in store for him.

He came out to find Rosy cleaning his room and that's when the realisation dawned upon him.

He staggered behind with red hues in his eyes. The vision infront was choking and suffocating him and he staggered behind only to gather Rosy's attention who gasped and then ran outside shouting for her mam and came running behind a terrified Khushi who crumbled seeing her husband's drastic state.

Sitting like a scared kitten, he was staring at the broken materialistic things of their room which was a dream. A dream, he had lived in reality with his wife and today, he, himself destroyed the cherished, blissed memories.

The sweats beads were now dripping down along with his pulse rate and finally unable to bear any more pain which he had been doing from a long time now, he collapsed and the voice he heard before loosing his senses was of his wife who was shouting his deep in deep fear and agony.

Khushiiiiiiiii..

Arnav jerked open his eyes with loud cry of his wife's name to get back his breath to find her sitting beside him with sheer tension and now satisfaction surfacing him.

Satisfaction to see her husband well and good.

Satisfaction to see the strength back in his demanour.

No sooner, she realised, being noticed by her husband, admiring him, she stood to leave on the pretext of bringing soup for him.

But then, the tug she felt at the end of her saree made her eyes close and then open with a sigh.

She turned to meet her husband's pleading eyes which forced her to seat back beside him.

He sat on the bed with the support of the headboard and then, lifting her hands, he kissed her knuckle, lingering his lips there for long. 
Khushi

He called her ever so tenderly with love dripping voice which made her land directly in his arms which loud and gut wrenching cries.

Caressing her hairs and back, he joined her too in crying.

The cry for their lost part.

The cry for all their bitter moments.

The cry of being too helpless to confine within each other.

Why Arnav, why?

Khushi sobbed stabbing her husband's guts and all he could do was hug her more tightly.

I had a baby Arnav, your baby, our child.

Why?

Why did it happen?

Why do I, we have to go through all this, why?

Khushi cried with nonstop hiccups making him feel terrible and restless.

He forced her to look at him and then cupping her cheeks, he asked the heartwrenching question-

Do you really think that I ki-killed our child, Khushi?

You think, I?

He stopped unable to say more and pleading her with his eyes to answer him.

Both of them kept looking at each other helplessly. While he kept waiting for her answer, she kept finding the answer in his very own eyes.

To be continued..

Yay!
Its Our Arshi Day.
HAPPY IPKKND ANNIVERSARY.
HAPPY SARUN/ARSHI DAY.

LETS CELEBRATE THIS DAY WITH LOTS OF LOVE AND HOPE AS IPKKND DEPICTED.

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YOU ARE GOING TO GET UPDATES OF 6 OF MY STORIES.

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