Chapter 1

Tina

@TinaEskay

⭐️SURPRISE!!⭐️
Hi everyone, here's a surprise short story for you all, titled "Storm Within".

I usually update my FFs in parts (there's no other option) but I thought it would be nice to post a complete short story from beginning to end.

I wrote this a few weeks back and edited it late last night.

It is much more angst than what I normally write, so I thought why not give you the entire story at once so you could see for yourself where I was going with this.

Happy Reading!

--Tina

Ps. I will still be updating Desert Heat and Baby, Hold On later this weekend. Fateful Love early next week or sooner--it just depends on how much free time I get. Still have to get through SP comments and post a teaser--hopefully tomorrow.

Storm Within By TINA!

*Summary*

It's been one year since we last saw Arnav and Khushi,

but nothing has gone according to plan.

Their lives are falling apart. Their love has never been more tested.

Can they find some answers or is all lost?

Will love carry them through the pain or

will they not survive the storm within?

To find out, read on..

*Note: This short story is five parts total and is complete*

SS: Storm Within by TINA!

Part 1-- Could you love someone enough to hate them?

November 2013

The study was plunged in darkness, except for the glow of a single lamp. Its faint light cast shadows over the walls, spilled across the gleaming mahogany of the desk and on the man who sat behind it.

Arnav Singh Raizada was half in the shadows. His silhouette no longer looked as it once had. He was dangerously thin and bony, much beyond the lean, toned build he'd had just the year prior.

The angles and lines of his face were far more pronounced, almost haggard appearing. His eyes were bloodshot, the boyish twinkle in them glaringly absent. Even his lips--once given to smirks and laughter--were contorted, as if he was battling the most terrible of demons.

Which he was.

He'd locked himself in his study as he did most nights, the same torturous questions taunting him. Could you love someone enough to hate them? Could you crush your soul--and theirs--if it was the only way? The last resort?

The answers escaped him as they did most nights. As the wind picked up speed outside Shantivan's walls, sending tree branches rattling against the windowpanes, Arnav shuddered, running a shaky hand through his overgrown hair.

Unbidden, his gaze fell on the small picture frame across the room. It rested on a bookshelf, next to a glittery tiara and a sash that read:Mrs. India 2012.

A good layer of dust covered everything. He blew it aside, his heart constricting as he raised the photograph to eye-level.

It was from their marriage--the proper one. He was holding Khushi in his arms, their faces shining as they crossed the threshold as one. How happy they'd been that day.. How much in love.. Who could have imagined that within the year, they would not even be on speaking terms?

Arnav swallowed, setting the frame back in its spot, but made sure it no longer faced him. Everyone said pain lessened with time, that the blow of shattered dreams faded eventually, but he'd discovered otherwise.

The pain only intensified, ravaging his mind, his heart, his very soul till nothing worth saving remained. Destruction. Pain. Torment. That was all that life had ever given him.

He couldn't help but curse his fate. Why did love always lead him to nothing but grief and loss?

His mother had been snatched from him when he'd needed her most. And then years later, the most unlikely girl had managed to crack the walls he'd built so carefully around his heart, teaching him to love again.. to hope again..

To love meant to make yourself vulnerable. He should have known better, but Khushi had broken through his every defense. He'd fallen for her--madly and completely.

They'd built so many dreams together, but very few had come true. Sure they'd been happy for a while, but to see everything crashing around them in the end made him almost wish he'd never crossed paths with Khushi Kumari Gupta.

To love was to feel. And to feel was to willingly endure pain. To hurt. To break.

A soft, hesitant knock sounded just then. Familiar footsteps padded closer. "Arnavji?"

Hell.

Her voice, her scent, her essence.. It all collided into him, sending him reeling. He turned around slowly, keeping his face expressionless as he spotted her.

His wife stood in the doorway, staring at him with that usual look of concern--the one that always threatened to splinter his control. Barefoot and dressed in a thin, white nightgown, she remained the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, her innocence and fire branding into him.

As lightning flashed, she drew the matching robe closer, shivering slightly. He found himself wondering what caused that shudder: was it the storm outside or the one that raged between them? And why, dammit, why did she not take better care of herself? The robe was hardly enough.

You're her husband, his mind reminded him in an almost taunting manner. It should be your duty.

But that too was a lie. Their marriage had all but fallen apart now.

The urge to crush her into his arms was powerful. He wanted to make sure she was okay.. to rub some warmth back into her toes.. to hold her close and never let go. Love her until she saw sense.

But Arnav did not move a muscle. He could not forget that it was her decision that separated them now. Her choice that had killed his soul, making him feel utterly lifeless when his pounding heartbeat insisted otherwise.

"You shouldn't be here," he barked, his tone deliberately harsh and cold. "How many times do I have to tell you to leave me the hell alone?"

Khushi's face wilted. Tears glistened in her caramel eyes, but she stepped closer still, uncaring how furious he appeared. Her hand rose between them as if to touch him. "Arnavji, please--"

"DON'T!" he shouted, flinging her arm aside. He didn't care if the rest of the family heard them arguing. It had become routine by now.

Her hand folded into a tight fist. She gazed at him with that same wounded look, a tear escaping the corner of her eye.

Arnav ached to cross the distance between them and brush that moistness away. Her each teardrop felt like a knife was being thrust inside him, jarring him with their sheen.

But he did not act on that instinct. He couldn't. Too much had happened and too much remained at stake.

"It's late," Khushi began, clearing her throat. She tried to smile at him, but it was dim, a pale reflection of her old smiles. The carefree, happy ones. "It's almost 4 AM. You haven't slept at all, have you? Please, Arnavji. Please, come to bed."

The restlessness in her voice was his undoing. He could not bear it. In a flash, he was at her side, grabbing her by the shoulders.

"Don't you dare pretend you care for me, Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada. Stop acting as if my pain matters to you. As if I matter to you!"

She shook in his tight grasp. "That's not true--"

"YES, IT IS!" he cut in, his lips twisting in a snarl. "Enough with the games! If you cared even a little about what I think, about what I feel, you wouldn't have taken the step you did. You've destroyed me, Khushi. You killed everything between us with your own hands."

Tears slipped from her eyes, streaking across her too pale face. "I never meant to hurt you. I love you. I always will. But sweetheart, there was no other choice!"

"The hell there's wasn't! You had two choices and you picked the one that you knew would devastate me." He swore, throwing himself off of her.

Khushi grimaced, but otherwise did not react. This was her husband. Her Arnavji. The man she loved with that same all-consuming intensity as she always had. Her heart beat for him.

She'd known that her decision would hurt him the most, but she'd had no choice. It was the only way.

Her hand trembled as she set it on his back. Beneath her palm, his muscles tensed immediately. As if she would attack him, as if her touch would destroy him more. It tore her apart.

Her voice was thick when she finally spoke: "Arnavji, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Tears shone in both their eyes as he spun to face her, but there was a hardness in his gaze that would not lessen. "Know this, Khushi: I will never forgive you. Do you hear me? I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!"

Her knees almost buckled under the weight of those words, flung in her face as the most callous, cruelest of torments.

"I know," she whispered. "I know.."

His hands shook with the need to touch her.. to comfort her.. but he could not.

"Get out," he whispered instead.

She did not move, staring at him with that same mix of bottomless love and overwhelming concern. Her teeth chewed on her bottom lip, as was her habit whenever she was worried, he knew.

He hardened his heart against her. He would not melt. He would not feel again. "Did you not hear me?" he asked, his voice cold and almost unrecognizable. His eyes flashed at her. "GET OUT! LEAVE ME!"

This time she did flee, sobs breaking out as she darted past him. Arnav fell on his knees to the floor, his shoulders heaving as the pain hit him with ten-fold the ferocity.

He cried bitterly. Cried for her. The woman he loved beyond everything. The woman he was on the verge of losing.

Forever.

Could you love someone enough to hate them? The difficult answer was yes, but to hate them killed what was left of your soul as well.

Part 2 Below😊