This is the last and final call for passengers flying Alitalia Airways AZ 770. Please proceed to the boarding gate.

Khushi rushed towards the boarding gate dragging her hand luggage along. The flight coming in from Milan had been delayed by an hour, allowing her to barely make it to her connecting flight to New Delhi.

The announcement boomed again. Alitalia Flight AZ 770 for New Delhi is now boarding. Passengers kindly make their way to the terminal.

She picked up the pace and ran faster. She didn't care about the weird looks she received as she constantly bumped into other passengers in her rush to get to her flight. She couldn't afford to miss the flight. Her family needed her. They had been there for her when she needed them the most. It was her turn to repay the debt.

*****

It was two hours since the flight had taken off. Khushi had already refused the first round of food that had been served. She could barely eat or sleep. Her thoughts kept oscillating between the situation at home and what she had left behind in Milan.

It was midnight past midnight and Arnav was still not back. How did Khushi know? Because she had knocked on his door every fifteen minutes since the clock had struck 9. Her mind continuously replayed his confession, her heart unable to decide whether it should be angry at his audacity, indignant at the way he chose to express his feelings or happy that her emotions were reciprocated. At midnight, all those feelings were replaced by fear. Arnav was not responding to phone calls and text messages and no one knew where he was. What if something had happened to him? She cursed herself. If only she had talked to him. She went back to her room, intending to check back in another 15 minutes.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, absently scrolling through the apps on her phone, Khushi heard a thud. She raced to her door to peek outside, just in time to see the door to Arnav's room swing shut. Arnav was back. He had behaved in an irresponsible manner, and Khushi was angry.

Marching up to his room, she forcefully knocked. When the door didn't open, she continued banging on the door. "Open the door Arnav or I'll keep banging till you do!" On her third rap, the door opened and a disheveled Arnav greeted her.

"What's wrong?" she asked anger giving way to worry, as she gently pushed him into the room and seated him on the edge of his bed. She checked his forehead and was relieved that he was not running a temperature.

"Did you eat something?" she asked pouring him a glass of water and picking up the phone to dial room service.

"Khushi, why are you here?"

His question startled her. She put the receiver down.

"What do you mean?"

He looked sad and defeated. "Leave me alone Khushi. I can't take more of this."

"More of what?"

"This. Your kindness. I don't deserve it. You don't deserve it." 

"Deserve what Arnav?" Khushi seemed baffled and Arnav didn't have the energy to explain things to her. How could he, when he barely understood the emotions that had decided to freely flow through his being? 

Clutching his head in his hands, he looked desperate and vulnerable. Khushi walked up to him and gently took his hands into hers. He freed his hands from her and went and stood near the kitchenette to pour himself a generous splash of whiskey.  Khushi walked up to him and snatched the drink away. 

"The last time you did this, you almost killed yourself. If I hadn't come back for my phone..." She couldn't even fathom the outcome. 

"Stop," he ordered, snatching the glass from her hands. He gulped all of his whiskey in one go and proceeded to pour himself another generous portion. 

"What's wrong with you?" She once again snatched the glass from his hand and to stop him from drinking it, gulped it all down in one go. The amber liquid seared her throat, and she coughed. 

"Careful Khushi," Arnav was by her side within seconds, patting her back down to allow the liquid to settle in. "Why do you do this?"

"Do what Arnav?"

"Care for me so much. After Amma passed away, nobody ever cared so much for me. Don't get me accustomed to things that can't be mine forever. 

"I know you love someone else, Khushi. You'll make a wonderful wife and a wonderful life partner. But I can't even wish you luck in all sincerity. 

When Khushi continued staring at him, he moved away from her. "Karma has a funny way of paying back at the wrong time. I can't take much more of this. Leave, before I do something I regret."

He walked up to the sofa in his room and sat down dejectedly, placing his hands on his head. Arnav was feeling helpless and desperate. Seeing him in that state, Khushi suddenly had visions of ASR in his three-piece designer suit, forcing her to become his mistress. She smiled. Unknowingly, she had turned the tables and brought him to his knees.

She crossed over to sit beside him on the sofa, freed his hand and held it between two of her own.

"If all you want is my boyfriend's name, you simply need to ask."

He looked at her, pain, anguish and desperation evident in his eyes. Without realizing, she had become his anchor. Her presence calmed him, her touch soothed him. He hated her tears. Through his pain, he smiled. His karma had finally caught up to him. He had always taken pleasure in breaking and ruining things. Alas, he'd finally gone too far and ruined his salvation.

"Go on, tell me", he said wistfully. "I deserve it. I deserve to know in no uncertain terms that you don't want to have anything to do with me."

And because he couldn't face her when she spoke, he turned around to pour himself another generous splash of whiskey. Khushi let him keep his glass. 

"He is tall and handsome", she began, testing the waters to see what his reaction was going to be. He simply stared at her and took another gulp. "He's quite charming, a hit with the ladies." The whiskey wasn't working. He needed something stronger to get through this.

She tentatively took a step forward. "When I first met him, I didn't want to have anything to do with him, but he wore down my resistance." Arnav had an insane urge to punch the living daylights out of this person. Another step towards him. "Stay," he ordered. Pretending she didn't hear him, she took another step towards him. "I learnt so much from him." She was standing right in front of Arnav now. Realizing that Arnav was struggling to contain his emotions, she gently pushed him to sit on the sofa.

"It might be better if you sit down," she told him tentatively, biting her cheek to hold back her smile that was threatening to ruin the charade. "I don't want to hear this," he said, taking another large gulp of the searing liquid to help him through the pain he knew would follow the confession. Khushi was not going to back down.

She took one last step and sat down right next to him sitting right next to him on the sprawling sofa, turned her face and whispered in his ears. "His name...." and she paused. At that moment Arnav felt he was going to die. "is Arnav..Singh..Raizada..."

Arnav looked at her in disbelief, his glass arrested midway in the air.

"Khushi," he said, unsure of what she'd said, what he'd heard. She got up to make her way back across the room when he tugged on her hand and she landed softly on his lap.

"Khushi", he whispered, his eyes glittering with relief and unshed tears. "Say it again, please."

Placing a chaste kiss on his cheek, she whispered: "I love you too dammit!"

The dam broke. And emotions he never felt he was capable of experiencing came gushing forward. He held her, rubbing her hands, placing soft kisses on her forehead, eyes, along her jaw bone, her ears, her neck. She angled to give him better access. He threaded his fingers through her luscious hair taking in its revitalizing orange-ginger scent. Her inexperienced hands roamed freely through his hair while he bombarded her being with titillating sensations.

He looked up, their eyes briefly meeting. She knew the look in his eyes. She was sure it mirrored hers. She conceded, placing a soft kiss on his lips. That was all the encouragement he needed. He bit her lower lip, coaxing her to open up to him. She sighed, and he entered her mouth, tongues fighting to dominate one another, speaking a language only their souls could understand. They separated, gasping for breath, foreheads touching each other, only to come together again. Arnav moved away from the mouth back to her neck, making his way back to her forehead. Having overcome her initial shyness, Khushi held his head in her hands and was about to kiss his forehead, when her phone rang.

Startled, she got up and ran to her phone, putting the much-needed distance between them. Arnav chuckled at her innocent behavior and went to pour himself yet another drink. What had begun distressingly had turned into a celebration. He smiled, a full-fledged smile that for the first time reached his eyes and turned to look at the wilful girl who'd changed his life's direction.

What he saw instead was Khushi, her face drained of all color. Without another word, she simply left his room.

*****

"What the hell, Khushi," he exclaimed, ten minutes later as he entered her room. Her actions had left him perplexed. He stopped when he saw her thrusting her clothes and things into her suitcase. The anger he felt a minute ago was replaced by concern.

"What happened Khushi?"

When she didn't respond, he gently forced her to look up.

Her eyes were filled with unshed tears, and she suddenly lunged forward, hugging him, crying. "Babuji," she whispered.

"Calm down," he told her, pushing her suitcase aside to make room for the two of them to sit on her bed. "Tell me what happened."

"I need to go back immediately, Arnav. Babuji has had a heart attack!"