"Arnav, you're such a loser." Words spoken years ago still echoed in his ears. A slap on his face. A reality check. At 21, he'd learnt women didn't like being denied, anything.

11 years ago

Boston, Massachusetts, USA

Rashi Keswani was a bright student. The only child of India's wealthiest oil baron, she had everything she wished for. And even though she was polite and personable, there was a certain air of superiority about her. She never accepted no for an answer and she never felt the need to justify her actions.

Rashi and Arnav crossed paths during the MBA program at Harvard. On a fated day the two were grouped together to work on a project. What started as classwork soon turned extra-curricular. Arnav was smart and handsome and Rashi was smitten with his looks. She tried her best to draw his attention to her assets. It all started with wearing clothes with extremely low necklines, then the accidental brushing of her hands against his body, the fluttering of her lashes, the accidental dropping of the books - the damsel in distress act. What started as a fling soon turned into something more serious. At least for Arnav. For two weeks they sought each other out, secretly making out, canceling their group engagements, missing lectures to spend time with each other. Then one night, the feverish make-out session crossed all boundaries and the two ended up making love. After his parents' death, Arnav had finally begun to smile.

But the happiness was extremely shortlived. It was Valentine's Day. Arnav wanted to do something special for Rashi. Armed with a box of chocolates and a teddy bear that said I Love You, he made his way to Rashi's dorm. He knew she wasn't expecting him. It was meant to be a surprise. When he opened the door to her room, he found Rashi half-naked straddling the quarterback of their college baseball team, moaning her pleasure.

He stood there stunned for a few minutes, till the other two noticed his presence. The interruption was not well received. Embarrassment gave way to anger. Rashi pulled the teddy-bear out of his hand, stomped on it, called him a loser and threw him out of her dorm.

*****

It had been a little over two hours since the Khushi and he had made their way back to the hotel. A caretaker, responsible for cleaning the Sforza Castle had let them out in the wee hours of the morning. When they returned, no one inquired about their whereabouts. Clearly no one had missed them.

Arnav had showered and changed, fully intending to catch a few hours of sleep before a meeting with the investors in the evening. He tossed and turned on his bed for half an hour and then was back at his laptop, browsing through emails. Images of his night at the Chapel with Khushi flashed through his mind. Voices screaming "ASR I love you", "Oh! Baby, let's get married", "ASR, take me home", "ASR we make a great couple" dominated those images. They were making it difficult for him to work. Another 15 minutes, a room service order for toast and orange juice; four cups of black coffee later, he walked up to the large glass window in his room that overlooked the courtyard.

Anjali and Shyam were sitting down there, drinking their morning tea. The two looked so happy. It seemed Anjali was growing younger by the day. She had a naughty glint in her eye. Something Shyam said made Anjali throw her head back and laugh. She then got up from her chair, walked up to her husband and placed a kiss on his cheek. When she turned to go away, Shyam tugged at her hand and Anjali landed on his lap. He kissed her back, a peck on her lips and tucked a wayward curl away. He then placed his hand on her growing stomach and said something that made Anjali throw her arms around him.

The voices in his head grew more aggressive. Had he missed his chance at happiness? He'd had so many women walk in and out of his life. Maybe one of them could have been his happily ever after. After Rashi, he'd become so cynical, he hardly gave any of those women a chance at his heart. He'd judged them, sometimes prematurely. He remembered his first casual fling after Rashi. He wasn't in love with the girl. She was too immature for him. The second, a control freak. The third, too traditional for his liking. The fourth, too ambitious. The fifth, manipulative. Then he'd stopped counting.

Another sip of his black coffee and his focus flitted back momentarily to Shyam and Anjali. Her head was now in the crook of Shyam's neck, their fingers weaving through each other's hands. She was gushing over him like a teenager. After six years of marriage and two kids, the sight was heartening. It was evident she adored him.

Another memory from not that long ago. Another stolen moment. A little unknown coffee shop in Milan, where Khushi had sat on his lap and cried like a heartbroken angel. In another world, Arnav and Khushi could've been Shyam and Anjali. Except life had introduced them under extremely odd circumstances.

He admitted he enjoyed vexing her. He loved the way she retorted. Everyone was afraid of ASR. Even Aman, who never crossed the proverbial line. Anjali left him alone as long as his actions didn't negatively affect AR. But Khushi? She'd called him out time and again, irritated him, annoyed him, placated him, soothed his senses, forced him to retreat and taught him compassion. He didn't know how or when she'd managed to get under his skin. But he was glad she did.

There was so much he could teach her, so much he could learn from her. Life with her would never be boring.

He'd never allowed life to dictate its terms, and he wasn't about to start now. But what about Khushi? Did she want the same thing as he did? She'd herself told him she was in love with someone else.

For the first time in his life, Arnav Singh Raizada was undecided and afraid. He knew what he'd become and how his nature could impact Khushi. She deserved someone much better, someone not so tainted with cynicism, someone not so burdened with anger and guilt. And yet this once he wanted to think about his happiness. His soul needed Khushi.

He glanced at his wristwatch. In less than five hours, he would be presenting AR's finalized collection to his investors in Milan. He had a lot of work to do. And as it always did, AR took over Arnav's life once again.

*****

"Sorry." The words echoed in Khushi's head. "Sorry for everything I put you through". Ravan Raizada had apologized. Khushi kept pinching herself convince herself that all of it was real. In the last five months, she'd gotten to know him, she'd imagined numerous scenarios where she would force the man to beg her forgiveness. And yet while the wishful thinking helped soothe her ego, she'd never believed any of it could ever be true.

ASR never apologized to anyone. But Arnav did. She'd found that out yesterday.

Back from the chapel Khushi had rested and revisited her designs one last time. Then she had taken a long shower, washed her hair and was now getting ready for the meeting with the investors. The store would be open for business in another two days.

Going through her wardrobe, she picked a bright red A-line dress. The sleeves were long and black and patterned with large red roses. She paired her outfit with black heels to complete the look. Sparse makeup with kohl and eyeliner; light pink lipstick, hair, a mass of curls loosely held together with a hair clip. She looked at herself in the mirror. The lipstick was too loud. Taking a tissue paper, she folded it in half and pressed her lips to it to dab some of it off. Satisfied with the outcome, she applied lipgloss over it. One final twirl in front of the mirror and she was ready for the meeting.

She glanced at her watch. She would have to leave now if she wanted to make it in time. She hurriedly grabbed designs, stuffed her purse with the essentials and room keys, and made her way out. The tissue paper with her lipstick mark found a home in between her designs. She locked her room door, clumsily dropped her designs, hastily picked them all up and began walking towards the hotel entrance. The tissue dislodged itself from her pile and floated a little before landing squarely near ASR's foot, as he stepped out of his room. He bent down and picked it up.

"Khushi," he called out. She turned. He momentarily stopped breathing. She was looking heavenly. He considered a compliment and then dismissed the idea. ASR didn't do compliments. He walked up to her, snaked his hand around her head and released her curls from their captivity. "Let's go together," he said. She shook her head in agreement. He glanced at the tissue in his hand. There was a lipstick mark on it. The mark matched the shade on her lips. He pocketed the tissue and her hairclip. He would add both of them to the box that already contained Khushi's doodles, her charm bracelet, a bunch of her bob pins and her entry ticket to Sforza Castle. He didn't know if he deserved Khushi. But he was sure going to take care of her memories.

*****

"Arnav said sorry". Khushi whispered near Aman just as he was about to sip water. He stuttered and coughed while Khushi innocently rubbed his back. He glared at her, stuttered some more and apologized to the entire room for his behavior. Aman and Khushi were sitting next to each other at the investor meeting. 

"When?" Aman whispered back. 

ASR was presenting the finalized collection. Since both Aman and Khushi had memorized the deck, they were busy doing their own things while pretending to pay attention.

"At the Chapel, yesterday."

When Aman looked at her quizzically, she scrunched her nose. "You didn't know Arnav and I were stuck in the Chapel at the Sforza Castle the entire night?"

Aman nodded his head in the negative, and Khushi jabbed his arm with her elbow. Aman smiled. Khushi smiled too.

"So anything I should know about?" His eyes were mischievous.

"I already told you. Arnav apologized for the way he treated me."

"And?"

"And I told him there wasn't anything between the two of us." She pointed to Aman and herself to emphasize her point. 

Aman sighed. So much for all the planning. 

"So all's well then, I guess," he commented.

"Not really." Khushi had a wry smile. The smile petrified him.

"What have you done Khushi Kumari Gupta."

Sporting an innocent look, absently flicking invisible dust off her clothes, she casually replied: "I told him I was in love with someone else."

Aman looked at her like she'd grown horns.

"I thought you were a nice, sweet girl. Why would you do that?"

She shrugged her shoulders. She couldn't answer that one. She herself didn't know.

The entire exchange between Aman and Khushi didn't escape ASR's attention. It was extremely clear than Aman and Khushi were very close friends and that Khushi trusted Aman implicitly. If anyone knew about Khushi's "boyfriend", Aman did. 

ASR's business acumen had never led him astray. His calculative mind had begun to doubt her confession. His hunch told him such a person didn't exist.

Nevertheless, he made a mental note to seek Aman out at the first opportunity and confirm his suspicions. Aman would want to know why ASR was interested in Khushi's personal life. He would think of a convincing answer. But Arnav had to know. Not knowing was driving him mad.