Chapter Twenty One

"Tell me, have I missed something or do you all of a sudden hate Khushi?"



"Di with all due respect... shut up."



"You can't give someone respect and then tell them to shut up Chote. That's counter intuitive."



"Then just shut up."


Khushi couldn't agree more. They had been bickering since morning. How two adults could conduct themselves worse than children baffled her. Though usually endearing, this day was stressful enough without the added drama of their juvenile sibling antics. A dull headache that had blossomed over the course of the day pounded against her temples. Suppressing a groan, she willed herself to zone out of the conversation behind her and concentrate on the double doors ahead.


"I'm only looking out for both of you."


Arnav, not quite as adept as Khushi, did groan out aloud. "Di...we can't do anything about it now. So quit nagging."



"Nagging am I? It wasn't so long ago you were the one nagging me to do your shoe laces. You didn't hear me complaining."


Khushi snorted. My god had this woman missed her calling in life. Bollywood didn't know what they were missing.


"Di....." Arnav whined like a child. Khushi shook her head in disbelief.


"Di...." Anjali imitated back. "I have ammunition that I can choose to fire at a moments notice. Don't ever bring me to the stage where I have to inform your darling Gupta of your childhood habit."


Both Khushi and Arnav turned to face Anjali, brows furrowed in confusion.


"You know the one where you needed my help in the middle of the night...after a particularly scary..."



"DI!" Arnav bellowed cutting her off. "You wouldn't!"



"Wouldn't what?" Khushi asked her curiosity getting the better of her.


"Just try me." Anjali smiled with disturbing cunning. "Anyway..." she segued breezily. "...are you trying to make this fail? I told you she should be wearing a saree."


"Khushi can wear whatever makes her feel comfortable."


The girl in questioned sighed heavily and turned to press the door bell once more leaving the sibling to continue their bickering. While she was grateful for Arnav's support of her autonomy she sorely wished in this case that he had considered sharing his sister's advice. Standing in front of his house, waiting to meet his grandmother, wearing faded blue jeans and a kurti top, she felt woefully inadequate. Uncharacteristically, she clutched the corner of the cotton top desperately trying to calm her racing heart and frazzled nerves.


Khushi Gupta always approached situations with calm, calculated precision. In her professional life, there was very little she knew not of; affording her control of any unpredictable variables if the need arose. However, this, was an untested arena. Family. It was obvious that people did not play by the same rule books here. Here boundaries were crossed, limits pushed and privacy breached. All in the name of a bond determined by blood.


Haq. (Right)


It scared her. The idea that you could surrender a part of yourself to another person made her squirm. It meant relinquishing the strings of control that kept her well engineered life together. But wasn't that what Arnav required from her? What he had taken from her? What she had given unknowingly yet gladly? Secretly, in some hidden part of conscience, she was happier knowing that someone else was watching out for her, caring for her.Being the puppeteer of her own life had ensured that it would never come crumbling down. And now, she was exhausted. Her life could be thrown into imbalance at any given second but she couldn't care less. She was happier than she had ever been but also sadder and perhaps even a little scared. All for the love of a man.


No. The love of the man.


A soft smile flitted upon her lips and she lost herself in the memory of his love. And that was how Devyani Raizada first saw her Chote's Khushi.




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Devyani's eyes crinkled in amusement. Khushi Gupta had gone from nostalgic to horrified in a split second. Her doe eyes were stretched wide open, making it apparent that she had been startled. Which really made no sense, as she had rung the door bell to begin with. Behind Khushi, her two grandchildren were deep in argument none the wiser of the matriarch's presence. With a finger upon her lips, she signalled Khushi to remain quiet. Handing her the pooja ki thali, she walked with a quiet grace toward the sibling duo. Then, with a practiced ease she grabbed the ears of both offending parties and gave them a sharp twist.


"Aaaah! Nani!" they chorused.


"Are these the manners that I have taught you? Fighting like street urchins in front of my future daughter in law?"


Behind them, Arnav spied Khushi turning tomato red. He grinned, still bent down at an odd angle. "What's the saying Nani? You can take the urchin out of the street but not the street out of the urchin?"


His ear was twisted just that bit tighter.


"Ok ok! Sorry!" he grimaced.


"Hmmm." Letting go of their ears, she stared at them sternly. Arnav and Anjali looked at their Nani, turning on the puppy dog charm. Then with impish grins they threw themselves in her arms, hugging her close. Khushi felt her heart tighten with longing.


"Now then. Let's have a look at you shall we?" Devyani stood in the entrance once more with, prying the thali from Khushi's frozen fingers; her eyes darted from place to place unsure of where to rest.The young woman in front of her was clearly terrified and strangely enough it endeared her further in Devyani's eyes. There was very little Arnav had told her about Khushi save for the love that dwelled in his heart. In these short moments Devyani took stock of what she could.


Despite her nervousness, Khushi stood tall in her petite frame. She was dressed modestly, complimenting the aura of understated beauty that beguiled the eye of the beholder. Her hair was long but pulled back in a no nonsense pony tail, while two simple pearl studs adorned her lobes. The dia flickered as it went circled round her; it's warmth reflected in large orbs of emerald green. Here she revealed herself for those who took care to notice. And so, Devyani took care. Love blossomed in gardens of green, fighting off the elements; uncertainty, fear, heartache. But it's foundations lay in something below the surface. Behind the turbulent seas of terrified eyes, a quiet strength called out to the Devyani. And she knew that it was this strength her Chote so desperately had clung on to. That he so desperately needed. The strength that would see their love through.


Here were two individuals in desperate need of love. Different kinds of love but love nonetheless. Devyani knew that the love of this woman had finally made Arnav Raizada a man, just as his love had made her a woman. Her nathi (grandson) had become quieter but more determined. No more was he using his work to escape his reality. No longer was he running from his responsibilities with the excuse of a life cut short but living as though forever was no longer a foregone conclusion. And here this girl was worried about whether Devyani would approve of her dressing sense!


Then, there were the other changes. Changes that made the blood in her cold and withered veins pump with renewed vigour. Years had gone by since she had seen Arnav act so carefree and juvenile and Devyani felt her heart burst with joy. His share of happiness had always been weighed down with the heaviness of his fate.  Though she feared that this burden may have now been placed upon Khushi's shoulders she could not help but feel a sense of peace. Khushi, like her name, had returned the happiness that had long left the wrinkled corners of the Raizada's eyes.


And the gods above would not be so cruel as to take away her own.








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Khushi literally had to clasp her hands behind her back to stop them from shaking, as Nani took her aarti. Never in her life had she been so nervous. Her logical mind told her she was being ridiculous. Infront of her was an old petite woman with kind eyes. What was their to be afraid of? Her traitorous heart replied with a self satisfied smirk. "She's important to him. So what she thinks of you is important to you." Her mind rolled its eyes and replied with a succinct..."Oh just shush!" A warm hand subtly slipped its fingers through hers, giving her the silent support she needed and Khushi sighed. He always knew just what to do.


A small tika being applied to her forehead brought her attention back from the two sided pull of her heart and mind to the woman infront of her. Devyani placed a gentle hand, cupping her cheek.


"Welcome to our home."


Khushi smiled wanly, as she was ushered inside.


The size of the house bewildered her. It was probably five or six time the size of her own. The light floor and interiors gave the illusion that the open living plan house was larger than its already magnanimous size while the natural light streaming in from the wall to wall french doors made the otherwise intimidating structure, inviting. The decor, however was classically indian and somehow fit in with the modern interiors. Garlands of flowers and curtains of lights were littered over various floor spaces and hired help moved in and out of the house with intent.


"Diwali preparations already?" Arnav murmured to himself.


"What to do you mean already Chote? The puja is tomorrow." Anjali chided.


Devyani turned to Khushi as they walked through the foyer. "He always forgets these things. You should probably get used to it."


Though she smiled, Khushi felt her stomach lurch. The idea of getting used to Arnav meant that she needed to accept he would be around. No! She couldn't afford to think like that. It had been a few weeks since their argument in the hospital and she had slowly come to terms with her anger. Though she could no longer blame Arnav for the turn of events it didn't mean she wasn't bitter. There wasn't even anyone to blame.


Every brief moment of happiness was inevitably followed by the thought...how many more of these moments will we have? How long before he can't walk unassisted? How long before this fine specimen of a man becomes a shell of what he once was? The worst of it was not imagining the pain she would feel. It was the thought of Arnav falling in his own estimation. How could she help him then? Would her love be enough? The hospital gown was only the beginning. What next? How long before their next fight over something so seemingly inane?


"You will come to the puja won't you?" Devyani paused waiting for an answer.


Suddenly Khushi realised that she had been talking to her this whole time and she hadn't heard a word. "Yes of course!" she replied clumsily.


Great. Another thing she had to worry about. Diwali. Having no family meant having no idea about any rasam's or traditions. Could this get any worse?


"Maama! Maama!" A girl of about two years came running at full speed toward Anjali. This, she assumed, was Neha. Running faster than her chubby legs could carry her, the toddler was at risk of falling over and Khushi found herself laughing at the youngsters innocence. A shocked Anjali, quickly gathered her wits and ran forward to scoop the child in her arms, saving her from an untimely fall.


"Nehu! My bigidy boo! Where did you come from?" Anjali's voice became sugary sweet and high pitched as she tickled her daughter's tummy and showered her face with kisses.


"Do you really need the bird and the bees talk Di?" Arnav quipped. He was answered with a quick slap to the back of the head.


"She came from me." A deep male voice responded teasingly.


Arnav smiled broadly hugging his best friend and brother in law. "Thank god for that. If she was all Di...can you imagine the terror?"


Aman went to his wife and kissed her chastely on the lips. Khushi raised a silent brow. Perhaps the Raizada's weren't as traditional as all that.


"Oh come on! We don't need to see that." Arnav complained placing an arm around his Nani.


"I quite agree." Devyani replied, her eyes twinkling.


Somehow in the whirlwind of activity, they had seated themselves in the lounge. Steaming chai and snacks awaited them. As the tea was poured and passed around Khushi took a moment to breathe. Here she was in the middle of Arnav's family drinking tea as if it were just another day. As if she belonged. The strange part of it was...she felt as if she did. In these few moments they had made her feel as if she were part of the family. Their easy banter and familiarity made it easy to live in the delusion. Leaning back into the chaise, she sipped slowly, letting the delicate flavours rest on her palate a moment before swallowing the liquid. Conversation ebbed and flowed around her and no one felt the need to purposefully include her in the conversation. Her silence was comfortable.


In actual fact she was glad for the reprieve of attention. The heavy brunt of emotions hitting her were overwhelming and her mind felt like grabbing the remote of life and hitting the pause button....hard.


"Why does Neha smell like oil?"


"Because it's good for her hair Chote." Devyani replied. "It will make her locks beautiful and strong. Won't it Neha?"


Neha nodded enthusiastically. Arnav made a face.


Aman scoffed. "The only reason you're making that face is because of that one time you knocked over the entire bottle of coconut oil on yourself. You smelt of the stuff for weeks."


"Blech." Arnav shuddered at the memory. "I was so....slimy."


Anjali clapped her hands together and laughed. "That's right. I think we have a photo of that somewhere. Infact I'm pretty sure the family album has tonnes of blackmail material. So what do you say Khushi?"



"Huh?" Khushi looked at Anjali confused for not the first time that day.



"I said what do you say about pulling out the old photo album's and humiliating your boyfriend over there?"


Khushi chocked on the tea she was drinking, glaring at Anjali for using the 'b' word. Devyani handed her a napkin laughing. "Don't worry bitiya. I have heard the word before."



She looked over to Arnav who seemed to be enjoying her torment. That's it. Enough was enough. "You know what...in that case, let the humiliation begin."


Wild cheers erupted from the other family members as Arnav made a face. Cradling his niece his arms, he turned his nose up in mock disgust. "You know what princess? You and I don't need to be here to witness your Mamu's humiliation. Humph."




It was almost as if time stopped for just that moment. It was a surreal experience. A ghost whispered in her ear.


"Hurry up Gupta. My balls are freezing and that won't be good for our future children."


Her stomach did a flip flop as her mind skipped foot loose and fancy free watching him hold his niece. For a fraction of a second she imagined her Raizada with his little Raizada. Another baby girl who had him wrapped around her finger. His eyes and her button nose. His smile and her unruly hair. Their daughter.


Her breath hitched. Their daughter. Kids. With Raizada? Was that what she wanted? Looking at the little girl in his arms she knew the answer. She wanted kids with him. She wanted everything with him. She wanted a future. And in that moment it became clear. Arnav Singh Raizada wasn't going to die. He was going to be the father of her children after all. She simply wouldn't allow it.



The little day dream was ruined when the man in question walked past. "You can fool everyone else Gupta but I know the only reason you're so eager to break out the baby pictures is so you can see me naked." With that he smoothly exited, leaving her grinning like a fool. Trust him to ruin such a pivotal moment in their life.














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The evening found the ladies sitting in Nani's room. The nostalgia party had eventually bored Aman. Having heard the stories 101 times he decided to go in search of his best friend and daughter. So Deyani had requested that she rest her legs on her bed as they flipped through the photo album. How the day had turned to night, Khushi would not know. Wrapped up in the childhood of her lover, she hung on to every word living vicariously through his experiences. The stories were funny and bitter and fond and sad. His family was incomplete and their history torrid but after all of it they still had one another. That was all that mattered.


At some point, Anjali had come with some hot oil and requested her Nani to apply some in her hair. Khushi watched as she leaned back with her eyes closed. Weathered hands massaged her scalp and any tension that Anjali had been holding fell away from her as she became a little girl just for that moment. It was unlike Khushi to be jealous but the pain in her heart was so deep that it could not be helped. For years she had begged for just such a moment. A moment where someone would hold her and tell her that everything would be alright. That she didn't have to be scared because they would tackle any demons that came in her way. A moment where someone could be a mother, a sister...a nani.


The room was silent and Khushi blinked away hot tears; berating herself for getting overly emotional. You couldn't miss something you never had. Right? Slowly Anjali's hair was braided and she stood up. With a loud stretch she softly claimed..."I'm going to check on my baby. Make sure she's still alive."


Devyani looked over to Khushi. "Come bitya. I will put oil in your hair."


Khushi felt like a deer in the headlights, fumbling over her words. "Oh...no..no...its ok. I mean I don't need it. It's very kind of you to offer. It's just that...


"Come. Sit."


There was something so authoritative in her tone that Khushi dare not argue. Warm oil drizzled onto her scalp and practiced fingers kneaded and rubbed, sending warmth radiating down her back. It was a welcome relief after the self induced stress her body had subjected itself to. Still Khushi could not let herself relax. There were so many questions she had to ask this woman. Silence hung uncomfortably, waiting for a catalyst to shatter its fragile hold. But where would she start? She didn't even know how to address this woman.

Then as if, she had read her mind...


"You should call me Nani bitiya. I would prefer it if you do."


"Oh." Well done Dr. Gupta. Great answer.


Silence reigned once more.


"My mother always told me that the best way to unburden the heart is to burden the tongue." Khushi craned her neck to look up at Devyani. Sighing, she decided to ask what had been eating her up inside.


"Are you happy with me?"


Devyani smiled knowingly, screwing the cap on the oil bottle shut. "Why wouldn't I be happy with you?"


"Don't you want someone more traditional and cultured for Arnav?"


"In what way?"


"It's only that I don't know anything about prayers and religion. I rarely practice my faith. I don't know how to wear sarees or what any of these festivals are about. How could you be happy with me a  daughter in law for your only grandson?"


Devyani furrowed her eyebrows and thought long and hard about what she was going to say. Turning Khushi to face away from her, she began to massage her scalp. "Life can be fickle. Beliefs I held as a woman of wealth faded away in the face of poverty. There is nothing like a hungry stomach to put life in perspective. In the end, without the complication of money, life is what we surround ourselves with. The people we surround ourselves with. Being traditional and cultured doesn't make you any better than the next person. It gives common ground between two people but it cannot ensure happiness. I measure the wealth of a person by the love in their heart. You make my grandson happy. There is no bigger wealth for me."


The simple explanation left Khushi somewhat disappointed. She had been expecting a battle with this woman. A display of territorial rights over the sole male heir. Never had she thought is would be this painless. But she could not fault her logic.


"As for tradition and culture. It can be learned. It is supposed to be learned. You are not just expected to know it. That is why elders to pass on this knowledge. As for everything else, it will come with time. You just have to be patient enough."


"I guess. It's just that everything seems so uncertain. I'm not sure how much patience I have left."

"For certain is death for the born and certain is birth for the dead; therefore over the inevitable, thou shouldst not grieve." Devyani smiled. "That my dear girl is from the Bhagvad Gita."

Khushi smiled and instinctively rest her head in Nani's lap. 

Outside the door Arnav watched quietly as his Nani ran her hands lovingly over Khushi's head. It was not long before her soothing voice had lulled the younger woman to sleep. When asleep, Gupta was just Khushi. An innocent. No more and no less. Seeing her in the embrace of the woman who had protected them like a lioness gave him peace he had not known for sometime. 

Anjali walked by with a sleeping Neha in her lap. Arnav gently pried the young girl from her mother's arms rocking her back and forth. 

"What are you doing?" she whispered. Arnav signalled her to be quiet and gently pointed out to the scene inside the room. Anjali poked her head in through the crack and spied Khushi asleep on Devyani's lap. She smiled and looked up at he brother. 

"It's time that girl got a little happiness."

"Hmmm." he concurred. The sibling duo stood there in the dimly lit corridor, silently observing. 

"Di...will you promise me something?"

"Anything."

"When I'm not around...."

"Chote!"

"No Di. I need you to listen."

"You're not going anywhere." Anjali whispered fiercely, unable to stop her tears.

"When I leave Di, I need you to promise me you will look after her. Not as my girlfriend or anything like that. But as a part of this family. If I can give her one thing then I want it to be family. I want her to have a family. This family."

Anjali looked as if she were ready to hit her brother. "Nothing is going to happen to you."

"Di..." he begged. "Please. I need you to promise me."

Anjali looked away closing her eyes. "I promise."

Chapter Twenty: Hiding My Heart Away

"P-A-T-H-E-T-I-C. Pathetic. Your inability to play scrabble. Pathetic." Khushi sat across from Arnav, her legs folded underneath her, making herself comfortable on the hospital bed. Laying the white tiles down on the scrabble board she looked at him with a self satisfied grin.

Arnav responded. "I-N-N-U-E-N-D-O. Something I am rather talented at." She folded her arms and leaned back against the foot board rolling her eyes. With a lopsided grin he added..."Not my only talent though." Then looking at her with a heated gaze, he implored her to remember all of his talents. Arnav watched her lashes lower, shielding the liquid gold her irises had become. In their depths lay the secret of their heated passion. He delighted in the slow blush that bloomed across the bridge of her nose, diffusing out to her cheeks.

Clearing her throat she tried to dispel the brewing sexual tension. "E-G-O. I'm surprised sometimes how your head fits through the door since you have so much of it."

He let out a small laugh. Arnav was on a mission today. Sick of the polite and careful Dr. Khushi he desperately wanted his Gupta back. Ever since she had found out about his illness she had been so careful around him. It was irritating him to no end. This wasn't the woman he loved. And so he was going to irritate her till she reappeared.

Slyly he placed the next few tiles on the board. "B-O-O-B-S. You've got a great pair."

His lower lip wobbled, failing to contain his amusement. Shock, embarrassment and indignation flit across her face with in a split second as a tile came hurtling toward his head. "You are so......urghhhh" she groaned in frustration, left inarticulate by his last verbal charge. Scowling, she bit out..."Anyway its not a proper word. It's a colloquialism."

Arnav raised an eyebrow at her not so discreet adjustment of her outwear. No doubt an attempt to hide her very generous assets. "So? Who's going to arrest me? The scrabble police?"


"You sir, are a rouge."

"And you maam...a pedant."He shook his head as he waited for her to form her next word. "Using a colloquialism...utterly Machiavellian I tell you."

"Well it is in my books." Khushi looked down at the rack of tiles pondering her response. Tiles fell upon the board and she smirked a very Raizada smirk at him. "H-O-R-N-Y. Raizada is a horny teenager. Horny."

His next word came almost immediately. "P-O-P. What can I say? Once you pop you just can't stop."

It went deathly quiet; Khushi's mouth hung open. "Did you...did you just compare my virginity to opening a box of pringles?"

Arnav couldn't contain himself any longer and burst out laughing. Khushi launched herself at him from the opposite end of the bed. The scrabble board went flying, crashing loudly as white tiles rained upon the floor. Arnav only laughed harder as she pulled on his hair with, seeking her retribution. "You. Absolute. Jerk." Her tiny fists pounded against his chest. Long fingers found their way under her top and began to tickle the soft flesh near her hips. She squealed loudly, wriggling on his lap. After a good two minutes she cried mercy, resulting in a cease fire. She lay against his chest, breathing heavily, a smile plastered upon her face.

He dropped a kiss in her hair, inhaling the lingering scent of her shampoo. "I've missed this. Just being us."

Closing her eyes, Khushi leant herself further in to his warmth and in response felt his arms tighten round her. If only time would stop... just for this moment. Silence fell upon them as a warm embrace, shielding them from the rest of the world.

With a loud sigh, she concurred. "I know. But things have changed and I just...." The rest of the sentence was stuck somewhere in her throat; a tidal wave of emotion threatening to spill over.

"They don't have to." he responded, his voice a low hum.

She looked up, unsure of his meaning.

"They don't have to change." Though delivered in a casual tone, there was a just a trace of accusation and Khushi immediately stiffened, ready with her defence. 

"What do you mean they don't have to change? Of course they do!" 

"Why? Because I'm ill? It's not as if I'm going to die tomorrow."

"No but it's not as if you have the bloody flu either!" Khushi was becoming increasingly incensed as the conversation wore on. 

"I'm not denying that its a big deal. What I'm saying is that you can't let it affect our relationship."

"You're making no sense."

Arnav sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, bringing them to rest on the bridge of his nose. " I mean that you have to stop making concessions for me. You've been so polite its absurd. I don't know how to act around you anymore. We keep tiptoeing around one another, doing this silly little dance as if the next word could tear us apart." Arnav  desperately needed her to understand. "I need to know how you really feel or we’ll just end up resenting one another. I know you're mad at me but you've barely said two words about it. We haven't really resolved what's going on."

Khushi sat up and turned to face him, putting some distance between them. Frowning, she tried to articulate her thoughts appropriately. "It seems silly to be mad at you. It's not important in the face of everything. I don't want to waste what time we have together."

"There you go again! I'm not dying in a month or two. I have five or more years. In which time I might get transplant."

This time Khushi seethed, not bothering to hide her emotions. Her eyes narrowed and she hissed. "Do you know the likelihood of you getting a transplant? NO! I do! I see patients die here every day just waiting for a match. So don't you DARE tell me that I should be all sunshines and rainbows. I am handling this the best way I know how." Her tirade, left her breathless and her chest heaved in and out with emotion. 

"You are angry." Arnav made the observation out loud as if just realising the extent of her emotion.

"You're damn right I am."

"I can't change this!" he bit back angrily.

"No you can't. But why the hell did you let it happen in the first place!"

The silence was deafening. There it was. The unspoken question that had been threatening to tear them apart. 

"You knew I lost my parents. You knew I was vulnerable. Then why the hell did you come into my life!"

The guilt on his face tore something deep within her and immediately she wished that she hadn't said anything. But he was right. They would resent one another if they tried to push it away. It didn't mean it was easy. 

"Do you really wish you'd never met me?" His voice cracked. 

Khushi looked down, trying not to cry. "Sometimes." She whispered. "It would have been easier."

"I did for a while." he admitted and she looked up at him shocked. "I wished I hadn't met you. I thought it would have been easier if we hadn't met. It wouldn't be so painful. That's why I disappeared for three days. Because It wasn't fair. Not to you or me. Then I decided to be selfish and take a chance and you know what I realised? All this time I hadn't been living. Not till I met you."

At his last admission she broke down, he shoulder shaking as she sobbed. He drew her into his chest. "Spending your life hiding your heart away Khushi doesn't mean you're living. Maybe this is more painful. But that's life and now we're living it. Together."

"What if you leave me? I can't live a life without you. I refuse to. I love you Arnav. I love you." she sobbed, clenching a fistful of his shirt in her hand, hiding her face. He tightened his arms around her and rocked her gently, unable to say anything to comfort her. Tears slid from the corner of his eyes. Three simple words had bequeathed him a lifetime of happiness. All the tension that his body had been clutching on to, slowly faded away. 

With a deep breath he put two finger underneath her chin and titled it upward. Her eyes were red and her cheeks wet. Warm palms cupped her soft face, his thumbs rubbing away the moisture. "I promised you didn't I? I will never leave you. Not even if you ask me to."

Leaning down he softly pressed his lips to hers. He felt her quiver as he just stayed there, gently touching her. Her hands came up to rest on his upper arms and she inhaled deeply trying to memorise his scent.This kiss was achingly slow. Khushi felt the blood pound in her veins as the anticipation built. He withdrew only to place quick kisses across the outline of her lips, stopping only to nibble the portion just blow her cupids bow. Surprising herself, she gasped audibly. He continued to drop sweet kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Instinctively her head fell back; the world spinning around them. It all made sense. After years of derision, she could finally understand Juliet. She would happily giver her life for this man.

Somehow he had made his way back to her lips, trying to quench his insatiable thirst for her. Sucking slowly, his hands moved to roam down her back, lifting the hem of her shirt desperate to feel the warmth of her flesh. How long had he desired this? He didn't know. It didn't matter anymore. He had her and he would be damned if some illness kept them apart. Her back arched as his fingers massaged the sensitive skin over her hips, pressing her up against him. A tiny whimper sounded and caught his attention. Emitting a low growl, Arnav bit her upper lip, gripping her with ferocious possessiveness. 

Slowly the fire ebbed and they drew away from one another. Looking into to her eyes Arnav made a request he had been contemplating for a while.

"Come home with me. There's someone I want you to meet." 

I wish I could lay down beside you when the day is done

And wake up to your face against the morning sun

But like everything I've ever known, you'll disappear one day

So I spend my whole life hiding my heart away.

Author Note:

Hello faithful readers,

I know that I have disappeared like Houdini. For that I can only apologise sincerely and hope that you understand. My personal circumstances have not changed much and I am taking one day at a time to fix my health. Plus moving house and all that. I am here to say that I WILL finish this story so don’t worry but I can’t give a guarantee about YLME.

Updates will come when they can. I won’t make anymore promises because it is time I focused on myself. I love all your support though. I cannot tell you what it means to read your comments and PM’s. It seriously makes my world a little brighter.

To all my new readers welcome.

I will endeavor to get back to all those wonderful people who have PMed me. IF you are going to leave a nice and wonderful long comment or have done so. PLEASE PM it to me. I want to reply. But the only way I will remember if it is in a PM. I sometimes get confused with all the threads. I only say this because recently I have had quite a few lengthy comments and I can’t remember who posted them and on what thread.

Also I will be trimming my PM list to those who comment. The rest of you can feel free to stalk.

This update was a long time coming in terms of what they had to talk about. Meera and Semanti had once left a comment about whether it is indeed better to have loved and lost then not to have loved at all and I believe this is my answer. For me it is always better to have loved and lost. I would never want to live with any regrets.

My day is made brighter by all of you. Happy belated Eid, Friendship day and Janamashtami to you all.

Love Sasak

P.S It also seems that as I was writing the chapter I accidentally pressed publish instead of saved as draft and some of you thought that it was the Chapter. Sorry!

Heart's A Mess Chapter Nineteen

"Would you like to present this one Dr. Gupta?" Danes asked, a slight smile playing on his lips.


Everyone around the room tried to hide their smiles, as they snuck glances at one another. The few medical student and interns accompanying Matt, Khushi, Oliver and Jahnvi on this ward round were none the wiser of what was about to transpire. Grabbing the chart from Danes, Khushi grit her teeth and smiled forcefully....


"With pleasure."


Arnav leaned back into the pillows, his hands folded behind his head, and grinned wolfishly.


This was going to be fun.


Khushi narrowed her eyes at the beautiful specimen of a man in front of her. Wearing a navy blue polo shirt, blue jeans and a breathtaking smile he was making it difficult for her to stay mad at him. Still, she wouldn't stop trying.


Turning to the medical students in the group, she directed her monologue.


"Patient Name: Asshole. Age: 5 years. Medical History: Delusions and Mental Instability. Presenting Complaint: Small penis."


Arnav had been grinning till she had made mention of his prized asset. It was impressive at the speed she had managed to wipe the smile off his face. At this point Jahnvi and Matt had turned to face the other way, holding on to each other, chests shaking with silent laughter. The students and intern in the room looked between and Arnav bewildered.


Danes bit back his own smile, eyes crinkling with mirth. "Had your fun?"


"Not really."


"Do you think you could present properly for the benefit of these eager young minds Dr. Gupta?"


Khushi sighed. Without even having to refer to his patient chart she began again. "Arnav Singh Raizada, 31 year old male admitted last night for a series of diagnostic tests to determine eligibility for heart transplant. Medical history includes repeated incidents of undiagnosed Rheumatic Fever that subsequently developed into Rheumatic Heart Disease compromising the Mitral Valve. Regurgitation is suspected to have now progressed to its decompensated phase ruling out possibility of repairing the valve. Results of recent ECHO's suggest the beginning of heart failure. He is also a Type 1 Diabetic."


The end of the monologue was delivered as a soft whisper, her eyes swimming with pain. Whatever humour had previously infused the air was gone. The mood turned sombre as everyone turned to look at the couple who only had eyes for one another. Arnav gently lifted his hand reaching out for hers. Rubbing his thumb across her palm, he squeezed tight trying to soothe her.


Swallowing hard, Khushi tried to blink away her tears. Oliver cleared his throat and turned to one of the medical students. "Can you tell me the kind of tests we would be running?"


Arya, in her fourth year of medical school, felt a little nervous but gave it a go. "A standard blood panel, urine testing, ECG, Chest X-ray, ECHO, stress tests, pulmonary function tests...." here her list petered off.


"Matt can you add on to Ms. Taheem's list?" Dr. Danes requested.


"We also need to perform a heart catheterisation, carotid dopplers, radionuclide angiography and an abdominal ultrasound."


"Since our approach is muti-disciplinary who else are we likely to involve Jed?" Oliver gave the intern a chance to use his knowledge.


"He'll need to have a psychiatric and social evaluation, meetings with an anaesthesiologist and endocrinologist. Since his currently appointed cardiologist is his sister we will have to find a more appropriate cardiologist as well."


The questions continued thus for sometime till the whole transplant team was fully informed of the case.
In this whole time Khushi kept holding on to Arnav's hand, her eyes fixed on the white lino of the floor, willing herself not to cry. This was only the beginning. She would have to be strong for him. Crying wasn't going to help anyone. Taking a deep breath she looked up at him and smiled weakly, her eyes still a touch watery. Arnav winked in return, making her heart soar and this time when she smiled it was more genuine.


"Any questions Arnav?" Oliver disturbed them.


"No. I'm all good."


"All right then. I guess we'll leave you to it. Jahnvi here is going to start the ball rolling and take some basic observations and talk to you in a bit more detail about whats going to happen today. I'll leave you in her capable hands."


The group made their way out of the room, shoulders jostling up against each other as they exited through the door. Khushi turned to leave and it was only then that Arnav noticed she was walking a touch gingerly. Not one to take anything lying down, he decided to give back some of the treatment he had been receiving since morning.


"Actually... I do have one question." Arnav called out.


The hoard of doctor's stopped in the doorway. "Yes?" Oliver prodded.


"I just wanted to ask if Dr. Gupta was alright. She seems to be walking a bit strangely."


Having said what he needed, he lay back and grinned, watching as Khushi's eye's widened in horror. It was only natural after last night that she be a touch sore. But for him to bring it up like this was just plain evil.


"Are you alright Khushi? Have you pulled a muscle or something?" Oliver asked concerned. Arnav chortled.


"No...no...I'm fine."she mumbled.


A pink blush crept up her cheeks at the memories running through her mind. Matt who had caught on, indicated with gestures to Jahnvi, who giggled at the embarrassed and shy Khushi. Huffing, Khushi glared at Arnav and almost ran out the room, leaving everyone utterly confused.

******************

Later that afternoon, Khushi managed to finish up a valve repair with Matt and went to the nurses station to do some post-operative follow up. An interesting situation awaited her. Jahnvi stormed up to her with a patient robe in hand. Shoving it into Khushi's chest she growled. "That's it! I give up! He's bloody impossible."


Khushi frowned. "What? Who are you...."


"Your damn boyfriend! That's who I am talking about. He is a nightmare."


Khushi tried not to laugh. "What's he done?"


"Uh it proably better to ask me what he hasn't done."


"Alright. What hasn't...."


"Oh god that statement was rhetorical woman!"


This time Khushi did laugh as she steered Jahnvi to sit on a chair. Pouring her a glass of water she instructed her to drink.


"Feeling better?" Jahnvi let out a big breath, still visibly annoyed. "Now tell me calmly what's got you so worked up."


"First of all he doesn't take his medications. I gave him the medications at noon telling him they needed to be taken. I walk in five minutes ago and they're still sitting there. Then he has the nerve to sheepishly grin and say he forgot because he was too busy working. On top of it he looks so damn adorable its hard to tell him off. Oh....oh....then I spend the entire day fending off female medical students who just have to get a medical history from him."


Khushi frowned at this piece of information, which made Jahnvi smile.


"It's actually hilarious. He looks so uncomfortable when they obviously flirt with him. He keeps repeating he has a girlfriend not that it stops any of them. Damn cute in my opinion."


Khushi shook her head. "Ok how has this driven you to breaking point though?


Immediately she scowled as if reminded of her terrible day. "He argues about everything! There is no discussion that doesn't involve me having to cajole him. Taking blood from him took 2 hours this morning because he's afraid of needles! My four year old patients are better than him. Not to mention he won't put away his laptop. Apparently his ECHO test can wait till he's finished talking to some investor in Japan or some company in Spain. And now he won't wear this damn robe! I have other patients you know! I'm not his mother."


Khushi tried not to smile, listening to her friend complain about the child man she was is in love with. Giving her shoulder a squeeze....


"Leave it to me J. I'll sort him out."


"Puh-lease. Five of us have tried to get him into this robe."


"It's true." Meg agreed.


"I can't wait till Shagun's on shift she'll have him sorted in no time. He's scared of her." Jahnvi grumbled.


Khushi ignored them and headed to his room, ugly hospital gown in hand. Arnav was sitting on the desk in the corner of the room, typing away furiously answering e-mails. Spotting her out of the corner of his eye he stated...


"Gupta don't even think about asking me to wear that thing. I refuse."


"I wasn't planning on asking Raizada."


He stopped typing and turned to face her. "Oh really?"


Propping herself up on the bed, she nodded, a mischievous expression on her face. "I was planning on ordering you."


Standing, he began to walk toward her with deliberate steps. "That sounds....sexy."


"Whatever gets you to wear it..." Her breath caught in her throat, as he placed both arms on the bed, either side of her waist, effectively trapping her.


Blowing on the loose wisp of her hair, he huskily whispered. "Whatever it takes? Are you sure about that doctor?"


Khushi quickly stuffed the gown in his face, trying to put some distance between them. Arnav rolled his eyes and made his way back to the desk.


"I'm not wearing it and that's that."


"This isn't a movie set. No one cares what you look like. This is a hospital. You're driving the nursing staff mad."


"I know that!" he raised his voice. It was strange to hear, since she had very rarely seen him angry.


"Then what's the problem?"


"You! You're my problem!" He slammed his hand on the desk, and turned away from her, looking out at the city.


The room fell silent, as Khushi looked at his back wondering what she could have done wrong. Arnav turned around, took one look at her crestfallen face and felt like a jerk. Sighing, he walked toward her and held her hands.


"I'm sorry. I didn't mean...."


Khushi looked up at him, still sitting on the bed. "What's wrong Arnav?"


With his palm, he placed it on her cheek and stared down at her, drinking in every little detail of her. She looked exhausted. Yet her skin still glowed, beautifully soft. A stray wisp escaped her messy bun, not quite long enough to be tucked behind her ear. Leaning down, he pulled on her bottom lip, rolling it between his teeth. He kissed her slowly, trying to express the depth of his love. But before she could even begin to respond he moved away and tried to catch his breath.


"I'm just frustrated."


"Why?"


Arnav ran his hands through his hair, trying to articulate his emotion. "We shared something beautiful yesterday. Yet here I am. Instead of being able to love and cherish you like I should, you're stuck taking care of me.  It's humiliating enough that you're with someone who has the body of an 80 year old but now you want me to wear this damn dress?"


Khushi didn't know whether to laugh or cry. For a man like Arnav, the idea of appearing vulnerable and helpless was emasculating. And in front of the woman he loved even more so. He was afraid that she would think of his as less of man. As less of a lover.


Hugging herself into him, she spoke into his chest. "Dress or no dress, you still make my knees go weak."


Arnav wrapped his arm around her and rest his head atop hers. Sighing, he asked to no one in particular...


"Why does it have to be so hard?"


Khushi looked up at him. "I keep asking myself the same thing." 

****************

Anjali and Aman rushed from the elevators toward the nurses station.


"Raizada..." she barked out, slightly out of breath.


"Room 1202." The nurse pointed her in the direction of his room.


A call earlier in the morning from a hospital employee, was the first news Anjali Mathur had received about her brother's whereabouts in the last three weeks. Relief, panic and anger had been her intrinsic reaction to the information. However her highly efficient mind had realised that there was no time for such things. And so, hopping on the first available flight out of New York, she had been running non-stop to get to her baby brother. It was now nine pm and technically past visiting hours; protocol could go to hell for all she cared.


Sliding the door to the room open, the sight that greeted her warmed her heart. Arnav and Khushi were both fast asleep. The latter, in a recliner chair next to the bed, a magazine about to fall off her lap. Closing her eyes, she breathed a sigh of relief. He was alright. Her baby was alright. For the first time that day, Anjali held on to her husband and allowed herself to cry.

*************

Khushi stirred in her sleep. The pain in her neck was bothering her. Cracking one eye open, she check on Arnav who was still fast asleep. She smiled. He had finally worn the stupid gown. Letting her eyes drift shut again, she remembered the wolf whistling the staff had erupted into when the back of his gown had drifted open, giving them an eyeful of his rather delicious behind. 

"I knew his arse was sexy!" Meg called out.

"That arse is mine! Go find one of your own to ogle Meg!" Khushi had growled protectively, to which Arnav had simply laughed. Later on though, when he had gotten up to grab some file or the other, she had got another eyeful and it was becoming increasingly apparent why the nursing staff was fixated about her boyfriends behind. She couldn't blame them really. It was perfectly round, with the dimples at the top. Her cheeks began to burn at the direction of her musings. 

The sound of a scraping chair, disturbed her thoughts. The lighting in the room was dim but she still had to squint to adjust to the light. Sitting across the room was Anjali, flipping through a magazine, sipping on a hot beverage. A table lamp to the side of her, threw a faint light across her face, highlighting her already stunning features. At that very moment she looked up, her eyes meeting her own. Immediately Khushi stiffened and began to get up.


"Khushi ...don't go. Not on my account. Aman's just gone to get some food, he'll be back in a moment." Anjali whispered, wary of her sleeping brother.


She ignored her and got up anyway. "The last time we met, my behaviour was unsavoury. But please try and understand."


Khushi gritted her teeth and forced herself to stay quiet for Arnav's sake. This was not the time or place. On her way out the door, Anjali held onto her wrist.


"Let. Me. Go." Khushi hissed quietly, making her anger apparent. As the grip on her arm slackened she heard a broken sob...


"He's my baby. Try and understand." she pleaded.  "He's my baby."


Khushi angled her head slightly. Anjali was looking toward Arnav with such maternal affection that it was hard for her to hate the woman. It had always been her problem. Khushi's heart was too big and too generous for her own good. Huffing in frustration she handed her the tissue box and took the seat next to her.


"You have five minutes and then I'm leaving."


Anjali wiped her tears, still staring ahead at Arnav.


"Arnav was so young when mumma and papa left us. Hardly five years old. Mumma had been sick for a long time. I can't remember with what but it must have been some kind of cancer.  Papa spent every last penny on her treatment. He loved her with everything he had and was with her every step of the way. As a result the family business suffered. Soon Nani had to sell her ancestral land to pay for the all the new and expensive research trials he was putting her into. When she finally died he was beside himself with grief. I didn't think it was possible to die from a broken heart."

Anjali paused for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Khushi was breaking apart inside. These people had seen their own version of hell, no different from her own. Perhaps even worse.


"After papa died, our chacha kicked us out. Nani had no money to speak off and we ended up living in the slums. The pension provided enough money for our food and basic needs so Nani would do basic seamstress jobs to earn a little extra income on the side. It killed us to see her work so hard.  Both Chote and I worked day and night, studying as hard as we could. Chote would get sick often though. He would have high temperatures and aching bones but we just couldn't afford the healthcare. His diabetes mediation was expensive enough, so we had to let him ride it out. I guess that was what made me want to be a doctor. The long and short of it all is that we worked hard and made better lives for ourselves. But in all these years, I was the one who would stay up at night applying cold compresses, who would hear his screams and moans, who watched him graduate, who helped him tie his laces, who wouldn't eaten till he had. I may have Neha now but Chote will always be my first child."


Anjali turned to hold Khushi's hand. "He is my baby and always will be. Arnav always comes first. Something Aman took sometime to get used to. I am sorry that I didn't tell you. I am sorry I lied to you. I am sorry I blamed you. But I would do it all again. For him. Because of him."


Khushi looked between Arnav and Anjali. "I should hate you for what you did. But I understand. I don't want to but I do."


Anjali smiled and leaned forward for a hug. Khushi backed away. "It doesn't mean that I have forgiven you. I will in time. But for now I need some space."


Both women sat in silence, content with their own thoughts. Anjali looked toward Khushi...


"He'll be ok won't he?" Her voice held so much fear that Khushi felt her heart break all over again. How could she not understand this woman's actions. Would she have not done the same for her own child?


Khushi held onto Anjali's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "He'll be ok."

****************

Extra long update for extra special readers who give me so much love. Four more updates left in this story.

Heart's A Mess Chapter Eighteen A&B

Old habits die hard.


Khushi was learning the hard way.


Her dormant heart began to throb painfully as time slowed to savour the palpable tension gravitating them to one another.


Arnav Singh Raizada.


The man had tattooed his name across her heart, blue-black ink seeping from it's letters to stain every fibre...staking his claim. With each thrill, came the realisation that neither time nor distance would dilute her response to him.

Caus If I could see your face once more

I could die a happy man I'm sure

Even before the locks to her front door had given way Khushi had known it was him on the other side. Still... it had done nothing to quell the warm, breathy whisper that had escaped her upon seeing him. Arnav stood on the front step, drenched to the bone, his posture unyielding. A solitary raindrop hung on to his eyelashes, teetering upon the edge, unsure of it intent. Another sat upon the pillowy bed of his lower lip.


Time, an arbitrary concept at the best of times, fell away, leaving silence to communicate what words could not. Stormy swirling pools of caramel, hauntingly desolate, begged for her mercy.


He blinked, releasing the captive droplet; the spell broken.


The deafening roar of the torrential downpour was suddenly thrown into sharp relief. Three weeks of anger, confusion, love and disillusionment suddenly found flight, funneling into the vortex of a violent storm, erupting in a resounding slap. Relief translated into adrenaline that coursed through her petite frame, her trembling body barely standing upright.


Static filled the air in the aftermath of the event. A gentle sob diffused into the silence. The tension, unable to sustain itself, searched frantically for release and found its answer. Arnav fell to his knees, crumpled upon her doorstep, his head hung; a defeated man.


They remained like that for what seemed like an age, paralysed, incapable of movement. Slowly, Khushi looked down at him. For the first time she took stock of his appearance. His white oxford shirt, clung to his shivering form, so soaked it now appeared diaphanous. Dark circles teased tired eyes, sallow skin marring his complexion. It was the sight, however, of bloodshot eyes swimming with unshed tears that undid her. That squeezed her heart so painfully she felt afraid that it may burst.

You took my soul and wiped it clean

Our love was made for movie screens

Sinking on to the floor, she quickly gathered him in her arms, his head resting upon her chest. The position was not the most comfortable, but she held on to him for dear life as they both let go together. Strong, sinewy arms squeezed her close to him as his chest shook. Then in the softest of whispers he hoarsely lamented...


"I....I can't live with out you." Looking up at her, he tried to communicate his anguish.


Deep exaggerated breaths rattled noisily as he waited for her. Khushi looked into his desperate eyes and closed her own. How could she explain to him her fears? She was no god. It was not in her power to save him. Steeling herself, Khushi prayed for strength. And in one devastating statement, she managed to reveal her truth to him.


"But you can't live with me either."


The wretchedness of their fate rung loud.


So they did the only thing could, they lost themselves. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her tenderly, pulling at her bottom lip, revelling in its soft pliability. It's taste was salty, their tears having found a home. Khushi closed her eyes and let her head fall back, taking the liberty to memorise his touch, digging her nails into his forearms as the bristly hairs of his stubble caressed her cheek. Endless nights had been spent trying to keep him alive in her mind, his smell, his touch, his love....


Khushi was terrified of forgetting him.


But now here he was trailing slow kisses up her jaw and nibbling on soft flesh of her ear lobe. She would be damned if she didn't immerse herself in him. A warm whisper flew over the planes of her cheek.


"I missed you so much Gupta."


Usually the sentiment behind such a confession would have melted the heart of any girl. But to Khushi it was his endearment of her that managed to find its way past all her walls, unravelling her in his arms. Her hands fisted in his hair, she hid her face against his shoulder and sobbed. Arnav ran his hands up and down her back attempting to soothe her. With incredible dexterity, he managed to position her legs around his hips and slowly stood up, carrying her inside.


Sniffing, Khushi kept clinging on to him, managing to kick the front door shut as he walked into the foyer. With out so much as a word, he kept walking, entering the guest bedroom on the ground floor. Khushi looked toward the bed and back at him, her eyes full of questions. Lowering her to the ground, he stepped back a fraction and reached out to hold her hand.


"I came here to ask you to take me back. To ask for your forgiveness. To ask you to listen to my side of the story. To reassure that after that if you didn't want me in your life I would understand. But also to let you know that if you were to take me back it would have to be forever. I didn't think I had it in me to lose you again. The funny thing is though that standing in front of you now the whole idea just seems absurd."


Khushi looked at him confused. He smiled with a boyish innocence that left her breathless. Taking a small step forward leaned his forehead upon hers. "It seems absurd because its just become clear that its not up to you really. You don't get a choice in the matter. Even if you don't want me or you take me back and decide later that you can't handle it....I will keep coming back." Rubbing his thumb across her cheek he whispered...  "I love you Khushi and I'm not letting go."


Khushi felt herself go numb at his confession. "I'm never leaving you, not till the big man up there comes for me himself." Her eyes's widened and she rushed to put her hand over his mouth. He stopped her.  "I've never said it to you before but I'm not making that mistake again. I love you and I'm going to spend the rest of my life letting you know just how much."


Looking up at him, she could see nothing but his sincerity. Her voice having abandoned her, she buried her face in his chest. Trembling fingers reached out to unbutton his shirt, her inexperience making her painfully shy. Large hands engulfed her own and guided her, reassuring her of his promise. The material fell away revealing him to her; making way for something quite extraordinary. As her eyes roamed his bare chest, a realisation dawned upon her.


He was hers.


There was nothing to fear.


Clothes slowly fell away, as they indulged in themselves in the luxury of the time they had. The room was dimly lit, trace amounts light diffusing through the grey clouds as the pitter patter of the rain became their soundtrack. She fell back against the pillows, her hair splayed out majestically on the crisp white linen as Arnav came over her...cherishing her...adoring her...worshipping her...loving her. Skin to skin they lay, familiarising themselves as an extension of the other.


Trailing his hands up the length of her arms, his fingers interlocked with hers, holding on tight. Gentle kisses rained down upon her, blinding her vision. She responded with passionate vigour, fisting her hand in his hair and kneading the skin of his lower back; her back arching up off the bed. As he slid deep within her, pushing past her final barrier, Arnav looked into Khushi's eyes, laying his soul bare for her to see. And there he remained, waiting for her to adjust to his presence, to understand the cadence of her body. Minutes turned to hours, and the sheets snaked in between them, twisting and turning with the natural rhythm of their bodies.


They had found each other...they had found home.

If you loved me, why'd you leave me

Take my body, Take my body

****************************************

Arnav propped his head up on an elbow and turned to face Khushi. Her face was turned the other way, as if determined not to see him. He ran his fingers through the long thick waves of her hair, marvelling its satin like texture. Then with the calloused pads of his fingers, he traced the line of her collar bone, tracing its dips and curves with great relish. Placing his hand either side of her chin, he tried to get her to look his way. She resisted, pulling the bed sheet higher up under her arms.


"Look at me Khushi...please"


Slowly the resistance became less determined in its intent and he got her to look his way. A solitary tear rolled down her cheek.


"You lied." she accused, her voice heavy with emotion.


"I did." he admitted in a small voice. Khushi waited for a proper answer. Arnav collapsed back onto his pillow, looking up at the ceiling. "I remember the day you stomped down the aisle of my plane. I'll never forget the look on your face." He smiled fondly. "At first you intrigued me. I thought it would be a bit of fun spending some time with you. But then after our date I knew I was in trouble. I tried to stay away. I knew it would only end in pain. I think I lasted about three days. It was selfish but I wanted a chance at happiness. The more time I spent with you, the harder it became to tell you. I didn't want you to pity me or look at me any different and I didn't want to loose you. I fell in love with you. You were and still are the best thing in my life."


"What about me? Did you ever think about me? What am I going to do! You've ruined me! I hate you!" Khushi banged her fist against his chest, crying.


"I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry." Arnav took her in his arms and kept reitterating just how sorry he was. "I didn't for any of this to happen. I hate myself for loving you. For chaining you to someone who is dying. You deserve better than me. But I can't live without you. I just can't."


"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." Khushi mumbled over and over again.


"I love you. I will never stop loving you."


Khushi fell silent, her palm resting above his heart. "Never leave me again. Even if I ask you to." she whispered.


"Never."


****************************

Heart's A Mess - Chapter 17 A & B

I know you have already read Part A but please read it again with the whole chapter. 

AGAIN PLEASE LISTEN TO THE SONG. I WILL ONLY HAVE THREE MORE SONGS IN THIS FANFIC. ALL CHOSEN FOR A SPECIFIC PURPOSE. THIS IS ONE OF THEM. IF YOU DON'T LISTEN....YOUR LOSS.

The door slammed shut behind her. 

Even inside, the still air was frosty, nipping at her bare skin, clawing its way down to her bones. 

She felt empty. 

Arnav had taken everything she had and then some. 

And like all the other times...she was alone. 

Khushi looked around her home. Inhaling deeply, she held on to her breath as the echo of his laughter rung loud in the silent halls. Eyes, once alive, swirling with the promise of love, now lay stagnant, reflecting the memories he had left behind. Her head fell back against the wooden door. Closing her eyes, she let her breath go. 

It came out in short, sharp bursts, shaky and unsure of its intent. 

It's full of chart's and facts and figures

And instructions for dancing. 

Warm calloused pads skimmed up her arms. Soft lips grazed the curve of her shoulder, nibbling the pale skin. Smiling against her skin, he inhaled deeply, intoxicated by her. Khushi leaned into the embrace, fitting herself in the crook of his neck. A strong arm curled round her waist, moulding their forms and there they stood, swaying in the silence. 

It was no longer cold. 

A husky whisper floated by...

' I love you Khushi.' 

Her eyes flew open, searching for him. 

He wasn't there. 

I can't ever see you again.

Involuntarily her body began to shake, the effects of last night's adrenaline wearing off. The deep, controlled breaths that had taken her from his hospital room to her front steps, were no longer able to sustain themselves. Instead her chest wall began to spasm as she fought to maintain composure. 

The damn broke. 

Khushi screamed. 

Composure be damned. 

She screamed out into the silence. She screamed to drown out the sound of his voice. She screamed to be rid of his lingering touch. She screamed at the injustice. She screamed till she could scream no more. With her back against the door, she slid to the floor, her voice hoarse. Slowly she lowered herself to the floor, lying her face against the cool tiles. Fisting her hands, she tried to stuff one in her mouth, to quell the sobbing. 

Curled up in foetal position, she lay on the tiles of her lobby. 

Many hours later, her phone vibrated. 

Pushing herself up off the ground, she messily wiped her tears. 

Anjali calling. 

Khushi hung up.

One step at a time, she dragged herself to her room. Crawling on the plush mattress, she slipped under the sheets. She stared at the left side of the bed and hesitantly reached for the pillow. 

It still smelled of him. Woody, musky, spicy.

Nuzzling against the soft linen and clutching it to her chest, she took comfort from its warmth. Hot tears fell on to the pillow and for the first time in her life Khushi called out with devastating pain...

"Amma"

And I, I love it when you give me things

And you, you ought to give me wedding rings.

**************************************************

"You're back."

It had been three days since Khushi had last set foot in the hospital. In those 72 hours no one had heard from her. 

Matt waited for some kind of response. 


He wasn't disappointed.

"Skip the pleasantries Parker. Just do your job." Came the terse answer.


Matt sighed, catching a sympathetic look from Meg.

In all honesty he shouldn't have been surprised. Dr. Gupta had not exchanged a word with any off the staff since morning and people were treading on eggshells, unsure of what to do. The once jovial ward now found itself party to stilted conversations and cagey silences devoid of its life and soul. It had been years since Khushi had been so taciturn. Professionalism though was not to be compromised. And so, when Dr. Danes walked through the door, Dr. Gupta was well and truly prepared for ward rounds.  

"Parker, Gupta....let's go."

Danes surmised that the best method on the road to recovery was to maintain status quo and so the trio tackled the rigorous work schedule forgoing the usual inane banter. As the ward round progressed though, it became increasingly apparent that Khushi wasn't exactly 'present'. Patient cases were presented, progress was noted and adjustments were made to the treatment regimen. Throughout the proceedings, Khushi's answers remained clinical, her face sterile and her behaviour detached. So uncharacteristic was this demeanour that even the patients raised a silent brow. An hour later, as they left the room of the last patient, Khushi stopped in the middle of the hall coming to a realisation. 

"Where's Arnav?"

Oliver and Matt looked at one another confused. Khushi repeated herself, a little more forcefully.

"Where. Is. Arnav?" 

Matt answered...."What do you mean?"

"I mean....that I took half the patient files and gave you the other half. We just finished ward rounds and Arnav isn't here. So where is he?" she explained, her anger and panic surmounting by the second.

Danes signalled for Matt to leave them alone; his steely expression affording her no comfort. Steering Khushi into the empty staff room he quietly answered her. 

"He isn't here."

"I can see that." She waited for some sort of explanation; her eyebrows raised in expectation. 

"He left." 

"What do you mean he left?" Her tone was incredulous...disbelieving. "We ran all the tests that quickly?"

"No....he left that night. Against medical advice. He signed the release forms." Oliver Danes maintained an even and calm tone, observing his mentee with utmost curiosity. 

For the first time that day, Khushi's affect displayed her inner turmoil and she became painfully aware of the throbbing of her heart as it hammered against her chest. The dull vibration in her body began to build, sending blood rushing up to her skull, the viscous fluid drumming against her skull with turbulent ferocity.


"Oh god..." she whispered horrified, her hands shaking.


Her words came back to her once again.


I can't ever see you again.


Idiot! Moron! Asshole! How could he just leave? She paced the floor and took out her mobile scrolling down her contacts list for his number.


Dialling Prince Charming.


She held her breath waiting for the ring of the phone. It went straight to voicemail.


You have reached the voicemail of Arnav Singh Raizada. Either I'm busy or I don't want to talk to you but feel free to leave a message after the beep.


Khushi pressed the red disconnect button forcefully, cursing the day she met him. Khushi continued to pace, biting her bottom lip and struggling to breathe as the worst possible scenario's played out in her mind.


She dialled his number again.


Oliver sat patiently on a chair, waiting to be addressed. After watching her dial his number for the 10th time he thought it better to intervene.


"What's the matter?" he asked nonchalantly


Khushi kept the phone to her ear, yelling at him. "He left! How could you let him leave!? He's an idiot, he doesn't know any better but you do. Why didn't you stop him!?"


Oliver frowned at her. "I informed him of all the risks. As was my duty. What did you want me to do...restrain him?"


"Yes!" She threw her hands up in the air exasperated. " God.... I don't know...you should have declared him mentally unfit. Put him on a psychiatric hold. Whatever it took."


Oliver stared at her, waiting for the absurdity of her suggestions to sink in. She continued to ramble, still dialling Arnav's number. "And where the hell was his sister? She just let him go?"


He sighed. "No actually. He left without informing her. She called you several times that day...wanting to know if you had any idea where he's gone."


The phone dropped from her hand.


She collapsed onto the chair behind her, not caring that she was showcasing her vulnerability to the world.


"I..." she whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking. "How could he just leave?"


Danes shrugged. "Why do you even care?"


She snapped her head up to look at him, her expression disbelieving. "What?"


He frowned. "Well you were the one who didn't want anything to do with him. So what difference does it make to you where he is?"


"What do you.....Of course it make a difference!"


"But why kiddo?" Danes put forward his questions in a devastatingly logical manner. "You were the one that severed ties with him."


"I...." She trailed off, unable to come up with an appropriate answer.


"You don't have the right to worry about his whereabouts anymore." Danes explained.


"Of course I do. I love him! I will be damned if anyone tells me that I don't have the right to worry about his whereabouts!" She yelled, her anger and worry getting the better of her.


He smiled, holding Khushi's hand and quietly asked. "Then why did you let him go?"


Oliver watched as the fight left her body. The stiff muscles in her body relaxed, her shoulders drooped and she lay her head on his shoulder. Silent tears fell on to crisp navy scrubs as she clutched on to his arm, her body shaking a touch.


"He lied." she confessed, her voice devastating quiet and forlorn.


"So? Get mad.....get angry. Fight with him. Make him rub his nose on the ground and ask for an apology. How the hell is breaking off your relationship the answer?"


"But...he....he's dying. I don't think I can....not after my parents." She stopped to gather her thoughts and Oliver waited patiently. "I smell his cologne on my pillow, I see him sleeping on my couch, I feel his presence in every breath I take.... he's taken my life hostage. I'm used to being alone for a reason. It's better that way....safer. I can't watch him die. I just can't. Not after knowing his love. I won't be able to bare it."


"So don't watch him die. Fight....I raised you to be a fighter Gupta. I have never taught you to give up. Death is a given. It's going to happen someday. You could be with someone who has a complete clean bill of health but gets run over by a truck the next day. Are you really going to let that fear get in the way of every relationship? It's absurd." Khushi looked up at him tired and lost. "And do you really think that by putting physical distance in between you that you will forget him? You've tasted the apple kiddo....there's no going back."


"I don't get it. Arnav knew I was afraid of commitment and relationships. He even knew the damn reason and still he lied. I never thought he would be so callous. Flippant, laid back... sure... but callous? I....I'm just so angry." Khushi gritted her teeth and for the first time gave voice to her frustrations.


"So be angry. But know that you only hold that right over him if...." Oliver sighed rubbing his head. Turning to look at her he asked. "Tell me one thing Khushi, did you ever doubt the sincerity of his love for you?"


Khushi shook her head in the negative. "I know he loves me."


"Then f**k it! You both love each other and that's more than most people can say. It's something that's worth fighting for. Maybe he was callous but love can be a selfish thing. When it comes along you just can't let go...no matter how you may want to."


Khushi blinked slowly in silent contemplation.


"He shares a common background with you, you know. He lost his parents too kiddo. Sure not quite your scenario but it was no cake walk for him either. Maybe he has just as much to loose. Probably more." He took a beat before resuming. "I know he lied to you but how do you think he felt when you told him that you couldn't see him anymore? It probably affirmed all his fears..." Oliver hugged Khushi to him. "He's the one facing his own mortality. He's the one dying."


Khushi began to sob. "But..." She hiccoughed. "But I'm the one he's leaving behind."


He ran his hands up and down her back, holding her shivering frame tightly. "The first thing he said as he woke up was your name."


She cried even harder, clutching at Danes shirt, her tears soaking through. "What if he doesn't come back?" she wailed.


Oliver smiled knowingly. "There's just no way."


******************************************************************************


It was raining.


Again.


How f**king appropriate.


The gods were laughing at her expense; reflecting her mood in the weather forecast. The heavens had opened the flood gates and Cleveland found itself ankle deep in water most mornings. Khushi swore that if one more stupid bronzed weather girl told her that there was only more rain forecast for the foreseeable future she would move city.


At least it was Sunday.


Steaming hot coffee, gurgled its way through the ridiculously expensive coffee machine she had bought one fine afternoon. A pathetic attempt to dispel her melancholia. The morning newspaper and coffee in hand she sat cross legged on a dining room table and flicked on the television; the rain relentless in its assault.


There's another cold front on the way and that unfortunately means more rain and heavy storms. We're looking at a maximum of 60...


The forecasters report was rudely cut off as Khushi rolled her eyes and surfed the television channels.


It was time to start looking for another place to live.


It had been three torturous weeks since anyone had heard from Arnav. Every night it became harder to sleep not knowing where he was...how he was. The constant anxiety was draining her. And so after a week of indecision Khushi finally swallowed her pride and called Anjali.


How she wished she hadn't.


It always amused Khushi to no end at how she managed to find herself in the strangest scenarios. What she thought would be a quick discussion about Arnav's whereabout's had somehow evolved into a full blown argument. Anjali was quick to place blame on Khushi.


My brother would be here if it weren't for you. No one knows where he is. Even the bloody police can't find him. You broke his heart. Oh god! I don't even know if he's dead or alive....


Khushi had watched with a detached interest. This woman really had a penchant for dramatics. Like a 1940's Bollywood mother. Aman kept shooting her apologetic glances while consoling his hysterical wife. To make the situation worse, Khushi began to giggle.


Loudly.


Perhaps she was depressed.


What else could explain such a ridiculous reaction?


The long and short of it was that two hours later, Khushi had left their residence with no voice, considerably less body water and a bruised heart.


She shuddered and took a sip of her coffee.


Arnav....where the hell are you?


The door bell rang.


PRECAP

All I want is nothing more, 

To hear you knocking at my door,

Cause if I could see your face once more,

I could die as a happy man I'm sure.

When you said your last goodbye, 

I died a little bit inside.

I lay in tears in bed all night,

Alone without you by my side.

But If you loved me,

Why'd you leave me? 

Take my body,

Take my body.

All I want is, 

And all I need is,

To find somebody.

I'll find somebody,

Like you.

- Kodaline

A/N

Last sad chapter! Well for a little bit anyway. 

So I was scratching my head this morning when I woke up and there were 6 pages of commetns and 96 likes for my note. I swear I didn't send out a PM. Then I was like...."Holy Amazeballs..." I didn't send out a PM. You guys are amazing. I genuinely wasn't fishing for compliments when I said if anybody was interested. I also never actually thought you guys would be that interested. You are the BOMB!

My personal life is in turmoil at the moment. I can't really disclose more than that. But do know that it is very hard for me to get back to everyone however hard I may try. BUT....I read all PM's, Scraps and comments. And I smile with joy everytime. 

Thank you for everything my amazing readers.

I would like to dedicate this update to some amazing writers who are reading my story. I may have not reached out to you but do know that I sincerely and truly admire your work and am humbled that you read mine. 

This is for Krani, Meera, Semanti, Rae, Nidsubh, A_BA, Anony_mous, Sonia_92 and maybe your not a writer (or maybe I haven't read your stuff) but Craving Khanna as well. Apparently your good opinion is hard to come by and so I am humbled. 

If I have forgotten anyone...please forgive me.