2 | ArHi FF Resistance | COMPLETE - Page 41

Originally posted by: bhavali4RR

Was there a memo that there's going to be no update today😔?

Ashok ambled up to the terrace, grasping the handle of the stairwell tightly. He huffed, stopping to catch his breath. He knew he would find her up here, leaning over the wall, looking down at the garden.

He paused, staring at the vague silhouette, her white salwar kameez faintly illuminated by the light of the thin curve of the moon. Her long hair was pulled into a surprisingly tight plait, resting straight down her back as she stared out.

For a fleeting moment, Ashok could see his son in the way she stood, contemplative. He shook his head, shaking the thoughts from his mind as he cleared his throat.

She turned around immediately, her hazel eyes wide with surprise and... anticipation?

Her eyes dimmed when she saw him, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by worry. She immediately walked over to him, gently admonishing him as she helped him sit on the bench.

"Papa, it is late. You should be in bed. What if you had tripped? Oh, Ma must be so worried... the stairwell is dark and you have to be more-"

"Haan, haan, I know, I've heard the lecture. I'm still able to walk, allow me the small pleasure of joining you."

Khushi's eyes softened at his wry remark, and she simply shook her head, a small smile on her face. She settled herself down beside him, rocking slowly back and forth, the faint creaking of the chains amplified in the quiet of the night.

Ashok looked up at the stars, recalling the morning he had spent with Arnav in exactly this spot just weeks earlier. It had been a morning filled with hope, and now... a night of lost chances.

He hadn't been able to get through to his son. But maybe, he could get through to her.

He didn't know exactly what had driven Khushi to suddenly accept NK's proposal after being so hesitant about it.

Were they pressuring her into this?

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his greying hair. He could feel the faint lines on his forehead, the aches and cracks in his bones. He was well aware of time passing quickly, his illnesses already taking a toll.

He wanted to see Khushi married. He had promised his friend that he would treat his daughter as his own, but Khushi had gone beyond that.

She was his daughter, blood be damned.

Seeing all three of his children, settled and happy, was Ashok's biggest dream. He should have been happy that Khushi had agreed to get married, so that he could relax.

But he didn't want it like this.

He knew there was still something wrong with the entire situation. He liked NK, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Arnav would be better for her.

If only that damned boy would stop chasing an illusion, and realize that what he wanted was right in front of him.

Ashok knew his son like the back of his hand. He could trust him to take care of Khushi, and never leave her side.

And he had seen how shattered Arnav had been by her agreement to the wedding. Arnav's stricken expression was etched in his brain, the broken pain in his eyes twisting Ashok's heart.

Arnav loved Khushi, and Ashok was certain of it.

But how much of that was reciprocated?

Khushi had always been reserved, carefully guarding her feelings. Even if she did reciprocate, Ashok knew that those feelings would be locked away, given her decision earlier.

"Khushi, is this what you want?"

He asked quietly, his eyes searching her face carefully. She felt the tears press against her eyes at Ashok's concern, and hastily looked away.

Khushi was struck by how similar Ashok and Arnav were, the same urgency and worry reflected in them. She pushed the thought away determinedly, berating herself for automatically thinking of him.

Ashok did not miss the tears Khushi tried to hide, his watchful eyes taking her in. He noted the sadness in her normally bright eyes, the dark circles that made her cheeks sink in. He reached out, gently brushing a hand over her head.

Khushi looked up at him, surprised. The moonlight caught the brief glimmer of tears, and she leaned into his touch, biting her lip.

She took a deep breath, praying that her voice held the confidence she didn't feel.

"You and Ma want me to get married, and you would never choose badly for me."

Ashok didn't miss that her words were carefully chosen, keeping herself out of the equation.

"Is this what you want?"

"Of course. It will make the family happy."

"Will it make you happy?"

Ashok pressed harder, trying to crack the thick wall protecting her feelings. His penetrating, knowing gaze unsettled Khushi, and she shifted uncomfortably.

He was forcing her to deal with feelings she didn't want to confront, that were too painful for her to consider. She swallowed and ploughed on determinedly, trying to convince herself along with Papa.

"It will. NK is a good man, and we will learn together. I have known him for a long time, and I know he will be good for me."

Ashok paused, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Khushi shifted under his gaze, discomfited by the perceptiveness in it.

"You will be content. But will you be happy, Khushi? This is not your Darcy-Bennett type of love."

Khushi gave him a watery chuckle, and he smiled in return. His gaze remained serious, and she sobered, looking away from him.

"I will be content. I must learn to find happiness."

Ashok saw a glimpse of his best friend in her, and could almost hear Shashi's voice saying that.

"Your father used to say that all the time."

Khushi smiled fondly, her eyes flickering with nostalgia and a dull pain, Shashi's voice ringing in her ears. The warm comfort of Ashok's voice mingled with his, reassuring her and soothing her nerves.

"He did. He would say the same now. I wish..."

She trailed off, her voice cracking. Ashok closed his eyes, his throat tightening at the sight of the anguish in her face as she recalled her father. He was immensely grateful for having Khushi in his life.

But at that moment, he would have given anything to have Shashi there instead.

Ashok sighed heavily, recognizing that he had lost. He glanced at the woman sitting beside him, her eyes shuttered, her jaw set determinedly.

"Very well then. I'm happy that you are getting married. Shashi would be thrilled."

He paused, choosing his next words carefully. He wanted her to know that they would support her regardless of her choice, marriage or not.

"But Khushi, please remember that we will always support you. If you do not want to marry him, we will understand. It's rather like writing a story in ink. There is not room to go back, erase, and rewrite the story... the misspelled words and crossed out sentences will always remain. Be certain that this is what you want."

He stood up, his eyes falling on the figure at the top of the stairwell. Two pairs of caramel eyes met, and Ashok's mouth curved up slightly, the figure growing larger as it came closer.

He shook off his son's help, indicating for him to go to Khushi, who was staring off blankly into the distance. He tilted his head towards her, placing a warm, large hand on Arnav's shoulder.

As he stepped down, he took one last look back at the couple. Arnav walked around to face her, and she immediately stood up, stepping back.

He vaguely heard Arnav's voice bounce off the walls of the stairwell, pained and furious.

Silently, Ashok sent up a prayer, before slowly ambling out of sight.

"What the hell are you playing at, Khushi Kumari Gupta? Is this some kind of game to you?"

Arnav hissed, stepping closer. She didn't move, only lifting her gaze to his, a flash of anger crossing her eyes.

"I'm not playing any games."

"If you think this will get me to stay in India and beg for your hand in marriage, you are sorely mistaken."

He saw her cheeks flush with fury, her eyes glimmering with rage as she struggled to keep her voice steady. He felt a sense of satisfaction at having affected her, his tight heart loosening.

"NK is my friend, and has been so for years. Ma and Papa want me to marry him, and I see no problem with that. He is kind, loving, and holds similar beliefs. We will get along well."

Her words stung, the calm acceptance making his gut twist. She didn't seem upset by the development, almost... willing to marry him.

He lashed out, pushing back harder against the ache, needing to blame her for it.

"Wasn't it less than a month ago that you were kissing me, Khushi? You moved on so quickly. I should have expected it."

Her eyes flickered with hurt, and Arnav felt the guilt punch him in the stomach. But he couldn't stop, the jealousy mingling with the hurt as it pushed him further.

"Don't. Don't do this, not right now."

She said in a low voice, her voice breaking at the end. He pressed harder, needing a reaction from her, desperate to see that she hadn't moved on yet.

"Is the truth too difficult to handle, Khushi?"

He sneered, venom lacing his words. She shrank back, the sheen of tears coating her hazel eyes.

"Please. Don't do this."

"Then don't make me."

The words were out before he could stop it, brutally honest. He hastily turned away from her, gritting his teeth. Her eyes widened in surprise and he sucked in a breath, recognizing the plea behind his words, his mask of hatred cracking.

"We can't. You know this."

"Why are you doing this? There is no reason for you to marry him."

"I want to be married too, Arnavji. I want a family. And NK will be a wonderful husband."

Her voice was quiet, aching with longing for everything she couldn't have with him. He could hear the poignant notes of regret, pressing against his heart painfully.

He whirled around, grasping her tightly by the shoulders. She winced as his fingers dug into her skin, her veins going cold at the fire in his eyes. There was an anger she had never seen before, his eyes dark with hurt.

"Don't you dare say that. Don't... you're mine."

She struggled in his grip, her jaw clenched as she threw the words back at him, absolutely furious.

"I am not yours to claim, Arnav. We will never work."

"Don't do this."

Khushi looked away, wringing her fingers. She could feel him in every fiber of herself, her heart begging her to drop everything and run to him. She couldn't look him in the eye, the anguish in his voice enough to crack the walls that had been so strong just moments before.

Her voice trembled as she spoke, choked and shuddering.

Where had all of her confidence gone?

"We have been through this. We will not work. I... I must marry him."

Arnav stepped closer and she stepped back, trying to distance herself from him. His scent threatened to overwhelm her, comforting her frayed nerves, memories of his embrace swirling in her mind. Her entire body cried out for his touch, craved for the comfort.

"No, Khushi, you don't have to. You don't love him. Don't do this Khushi, you're hurting yourself."

"It will make Ma and Papa happy."

"That doesn't matter! You matter, this is your life. You would never be happy in a marriage with him."

"I would be content. NK is a good man."

"Damn it, that's not the point! It doesn't matter if he is a good man or not, you don't love him."

The stubborn determination in her voice frustrated him as she dug in her heels, refusing to budge.

"Ma and Papa barely knew each other when they got married, and you have seen the love between them. It will grow."

Arnav ran a hand through his hair, wanting to scream. He wanted to clutch her shoulders and shake her of this misguided, bullheaded idea. He took a deep breath, pleading with her to reconsider.

"Khushi, you will be miserable."

Her eyes flashed briefly, and he knew he had hit a nerve.

"What gives you the right to determine my emotions, Arnav?"

"The fact that you're so damned determined to ignore them."

His response was swift and cutting, but she only jutted her jaw out further, her gaze steely.

"You have no right-"

"The hell I don't! We were-"

"We were. It is the past. This is the present."

"You can't marry him."

"Are you willing to stay in India?"

Her question was pointed, and Arnav winced.

"Khushi, you don't even know what England is like."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, and she shook her head, her lips curving into a wry smirk.

"I knew it. You haven't changed at all. You want to move to England even though you know I won't, but you want me to not move on as well. Do you want me to remain unmarried because I won't marry you?"

"Yes."

Her eyes rounded, her mouth falling open in shock at his audaciousness. He didn't look remotely apologetic, his gaze meeting hers directly, unnerving her with their sincerity.

Swallowing, she responded quietly, her voice final.

"NK is my friend. He cares deeply for me, and I for him. We share similar values, we want the same things from life... and even if I don't love him now, I will learn to lo-"

Arnav took a large step forward, his entire body shaking with rage. His eyes were a dark, dark black, clouded with emotion. Khushi nervously took a step back, only to feel her feet slip. Squeezing her eyes tightly, she braced herself for the fall, only to realize that it never came.

"Don't ever say that you love him."

He snarled, pulling her up tightly against him. She found herself staring into Arnav's eyes, his body closer than ever. His hands gripped her tightly, the warmth from them making her shiver.

His eyes softened as he stared down at her, clutching her as if he couldn't bear to let go. She saw the anger fade, his eyes torn.

For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to enjoy it, relishing the feel of him.

His hand reached out, cupping her cheek and tilting her face up, forcing her to meet his gaze. She was held captive by the anguish in his eyes, a desperation she had never seen before.

"Don't do this. Please, Khushi, don't do this."

His voice was hoarse, and she felt the tears prickling at her eyes, her throat closing rapidly.

"I have to. Let me go. Please. It'll be better for us."

She tried to extract herself from his grasp, but he wouldn't let go, instead pulling her closer to him. She gasped, his scent invading her senses, clouding her brain. She could hear his heart thudding against his rib cage, her head leaned against his chest. His hand went to cup the back of her head, holding her tightly against him as if she would slip through his fingers.

"No, Khushi. I can't... I've been miserable without you. I- I can't think, I can't eat, I can't sleep. I need you. You're... I love you."

She looked up at him through a blurry gaze, her eyes stinging with tears. She hiccuped, struggling to breathe as he stared at her, begging her to listen. She rested her palms on his chest, looking into the dark eyes that had become so familiar.

Her stomach slowly unclenched, the painful ache subsiding as her hands slid across his chest reverently.

Her hands fisted in his kurta, pulling him closer, arching into the touch of his hands that slid down her shoulders, down to her waist, pulling her flush against him. The fabric crumpled under her fingers as she grasped it desperately, trying to hold onto the last glimmer of hope.

"I can't. You know we won't-"

"I'll stay. I'll do anything. I'll stay in India."

He hardly recognized his own voice for a minute, stunned at what he had said. He paused, the words sinking in.

She stiffened, pulling back slightly. He had agreed to give up England... for her? She stared at him in shock, unable to comprehend it.

He was willing to stay in India for her?

An unforeseen determination coursed through him, sweeping through his veins. He almost smiled, the irony of the situation not lost on him.

He realized he had never been more certain of anything, the desperation overriding everything. He couldn't imagine his life without her.

When had she become so important to him?

He grasped her shoulders, his voice firm as he said it, pleading with her.

"I'll stay in India, Khushi, if you just... marry me. Please. You matter more."

Her heart pounded, feeling lighter than it had in weeks. He was telling her he would stay.

He would stay.

His eyes scanned her face desperately, his brow furrowing as he watched her. For a brief moment, she felt the smile pulling at the edge of her lips. A relieved, choked sob escaped her, tears filling her eyes. She rested her palms on his chest, looking into the dark eyes that had become so familiar.

Her stomach slowly unclenched, the painful ache subsiding as her hands slid across his chest reverently.

He would stay, they could get married, and she would-

But at what cost?

It screeched to a halt, sending her stomach plummeting. The thump of her heart became a painful anthem, pressing against her again and again until it threatened to burst. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, willing away the painful sting.

"I'll stay, I'll stay."

He murmured over and over, his mouth ghosting over her ear. Her heart pleaded with her as she leaned her head against his chest, listening to the hammering of his heartbeat that was perfectly in tune with hers. Her tears stained his shirt, the white fabric turning trasnlucent as it clung to him.

He pressed her closer, his large palm resting on her back. She didn't want to let go, her nails digging into his skin.

Once she let go...

If only she could just say yes...

She turned her head up, looking into his eyes. She gazed at him sadly, staring at the man in front of her. His eyes were full of hope as he held her tightly, begging her to agree.

She couldn't take his dream away.

He would be fine now, but what would happen in the future?

He would hate her for holding him back. They would resent each other.

She couldn't do this to him.

Steeling herself, she shook her head resolutely. She told him half truths, knowing that he would fight until he wore her down if he knew the real reason.

He would tell her his dreams didn't matter, that she did.

She longed for that, wished that it was that simple.

But she couldn't. She wouldn't.

"No, Arnavji. I have already told Ma yes, and I will not go back on my word. It would break her heart. I cannot do that to her. I will marry NK."

Her heart broke at the defeat in his eyes, the empty sadness. His face fell, his grip loosening on her waist, letting the cool air seep through as it washed over the salty sweat on their palms. The light in his face had fused, his cheeks shadowed with darkness.

She counted backwards, determined to hold it together.

Just until he left.

She cupped his face, caressing it. Her hands trailed over his forehead, tracing the scar above his eyebrow. She let her fingers slide down his cheeks, committing his sharp intake of breath to memory, etching every crease at the sides of his eyes into her mind. She memorized the feel of his stubble, the exact temperature of his skin, the way it made her heart race, knowing that she wouldn't do this again.

She began to pull away and he leaned into her touch, his hand tightening on her wrist. She took in a shuddering, painful breath, letting the hand that was resting at his jaw fall down to her sides.

His eyes opened, staring at her with tormented anguish.

"Khushi."

His hoarse, cracked voice broke her resolve, and she lifted a fist to her mouth to muffle the sob. Her heart begged her to throw herself into his arms, to kiss him one more time.

She turned her face away, not wanting him to see her tears, even though she knew he had seen them anyway. She lifted her gaze to him, her vision blurry with unshed tears. Her voice sounded stronger than she felt, her knees weak with strain.

"Go to England. You'll be successful at your new job. Let me go. We'll be happier."

He stared at her blankly for a minute, and then his shoulders slumped. He recognized the quiet plea. His stomach felt heavy, his insides twisting until it hurt, the finality of the situation sending a trail of ice through his skin.

He lifted her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her inner wrist. He saw the tear escape her tightly shut eyes, and reached out, brushing it away gently.

His fingers lingered for a split second, feeling the warmth of her skin for the last time. His hand fell to his side like leaden weight, and he took a deep breath, stepping back.

Her fingers fisted, curling into themselves as they strained to reach out and touch him one, last time.

"Good night, Khushi."

His eyes were shuttered, his voice quiet as he turned on his heel. She listened to the fading sound of his footsteps, before collapsing on the chair, the tears falling freely as her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

*********

Anjali walked into Arnav's room late the next afternoon. The rest of the family was napping, or occupied with other things.

She had heard Khushi's footsteps come down late at night, and had stepped out to see her slip into her room. Even in the dim moonlight streaming from the window, she had been able to see the tear streaks.

Khushi had acted completely normal all morning, but Anjali wasn't stupid. She had lived with Khushi long enough to know her well, and she knew her best friend was absolutely devastated.

There was a stricken expression that flitted across her face every time Ma discussed the wedding, one that was quickly covered up. Khushi didn't even attempt to look over at Arnav, keeping her gaze carefully trained away.

Anjali hadn't been able to get through to Khushi. She was incredibly stubborn, her ideals keeping her from giving in.

But maybe... she could get through to her brother.

Anjali hated seeing two of the most important people in her life so broken. She hadn't been able to recognize Arnav, the dark circles underneath his bloodshot eyes.

Her own heart reached out to them, begging them to drop the stubborn determination.

She saw her brother sitting in the corner of the room, staring at a book. She knew he wasn't reading it, his eyes trained on a single word.

"Bhai?"

He stared, quickly catching the book as it threatened to slip off of his lap. Anjali sat gingerly on his bed, looking at her brother worriedly.

"Anju? What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to talk."

Arnav glanced up at her above the rims of his glasses, pulling them off and leaning back on the chair. His brow furrowed, scanning her face.

"Is everything alright? Is Aman treating you well?

"Yes, Aman makes me very happy."

Arnav couldn't help but smile at the shy blush on Anjali's face, bright with happiness. He placed a hand on hers, smiling softly.

"I'm glad you're happy, Anju. He's good for you."

Anjali smiled, mentally preparing herself.

"Yes, and now Khushi will find love with NK."

She watched Arnav carefully, noting the way he froze, his jaw tightening imperceptibly.

"I hope she will. I wish her the best."

He said in a low voice, his eyes remaining determinedly on his book. Anjali regarded him, choosing her words carefully.

"You know, NK was perfect for her. They could have been very happy together."

Arnav swallowed, the ache intensifying at Anjali's words. It pressed against his chest, threatening to overflow. He gritted his teeth, taking a long breath.

"Could have been."

Anjali repeated, her quiet, gentle voice not masking the urgency. Arnav's eyes snapped up, realizing the implication of her words. His heart pounded against his chest, his hands suddenly clammy as he considered them.

Anjali continued, her voice just as gentle as it had been.

"He's better for her. They've known each other for a long time, they're good friends, he believes in what she does. They will be happy together, they're a perfect match. But... there's something missing."

She paused, glancing at Arnav. His gaze was focused straight ahead, but she knew he was listening intently.

"Without that, she can be content. But..."

Anjali trailed off, allowing Arnav to think about her words.

"I would be content. NK is a good man."

"Damn it, that's not the point! It doesn't matter if he is a good man or not, you don't love him."

Their voices rang in his head, echoing in his mind.

He had been willing to stay in India for her. She mattered to him. He needed her.

Images of her entwined with NK, sharing a life together flashed through his mind. He could see her laughing with him, giving him that special, secretive shy smile. Her hugging him, her head nestled in the crook of his neck.

The thought made his gut twist, his insides churning with raw jealousy.

No.

She loved him.

He couldn't give up. She meant too much to him, and he would never be able to see her with another person. It would break him, the thought of her with someone else.

He had to do something. He couldn't let her go.

Anjali smirked, noticing the fire entering her brother's eyes.

She watched Arnav leave as he excused himself, whirling on his heel and stalking out of the room. There was a fierce determination in his gait, his jaw set tightly, his eyes glimmering with barely controlled emotions.

Anjali felt a fleeting moment of dread, worried her brother would do something rash.

He certainly had a temper...

She shook the thought out of her brain. He would bring Khushi back, and that was what was important.

She had to think positively.

It would work out.

She hoped.