*Warning of Sensitive Topic*
Arnav forced himself out of the memories. He couldn't just sit here and dwell on the past. Destiny had given him a chance to fix things...it was a stretch and an unrealistic goal but he wasn't going to go down without putting up a fair fight.
He caressed Khushi's life-sized photo in his bedroom. He had to bring her back into his life. He loved her and he couldn't just let her go. He had done wrong and he would fix it. He would go to the end of the world but he would bring her back. Arnav decided with conviction and looked at Khushi's picture.
"I have to bring you back Khushi...I have to."
While Arnav had escaped from the memories of the past for the time being and had made a decision to bring Khushi back into his life, Khushi paced back and forth in her office cabin.
She could have avoided this situation. It was within her hands but a decision she'd made two years ago had brought her face to face with Arnav. The worst part was that despite all the pain he'd given her, she'd felt an inkling of joy when she saw him in front of her.
Anger rushed through her veins. She picked up her phone and called Anjali into her office.
"Anjali...From today and on, I want a full list of my appointments. Full name and phone number along with appointment time. Understood?" Khushi said.
Anjali blinked twice before her brows knit together in a confused frown. "But Ms. K...you yourself said that you don't want the names...you said you just wanted to know the appointment times."
"I know!" Khushi roared. "That was two months ago. I know I specifically asked you to not bother me with things like the names of the clients...but now I'm telling you I want the entire list of appointments with name and number...the day before. Leave me tomorrow's appointment list before you go."
Anjali mumbled a 'yes' and walked out. Khushi sat in her chair and leaned her head back. If she hadn't told Anjali to not tell her the names of the people she was meeting...she could have avoided meeting Arnav again. She would have seen his name on the list and would have asked someone else to take his case and she would have avoided him to all her abilities. Instead, what she had seen on her agenda in the 11am slot was: appointment.
She looked at the chair in front of her where Arnav had been sitting and her mind raced back to the painful memory she tried not to think about. She remembered their first kiss that morning when he had left for the office immediately after recovering from sickness.
(Flashback)
Khushi had been ecstatic with the development in their relationship. She had decided that she would tell him what she felt for him when he came back. She would have liked it better it he had been the one to tell her how he felt first but she knew his wasn't a man of words. He expressed his feelings through his action'and even then he struggled. In her heart, she knew that their kiss was a confession in its own sense but verbalizing feelings was important to her. And since he wasn't about to take the first step, she would tell him she was in love with him.
She danced around in the room. She was so happy that she could scream it to the world. She got started in the kitchen. Step one was to make all of Arnav's favourite dishes. The way to a man's heart is through is stomach, they say.
Just as she finished cooking, the clock struck 4pm and Khushi frowned. He should have been back by now except he wasn't. She was about to pick up the cell and call him when her phone rang. It was Arnav.
"Hey Khushi...listen...the delegates want to go out for a bit along with a few staff members at the office. I might be a bit late."
"Arnav! You know you just got better!" Khushi complained.
"I know Khushi...that's why I called. I'm fine. Don't worry about it. If anything happens, I'll call you first thing. Promise."
"Okay." Khushi said after a few minutes of hesitation. She wanted him home so he could rest but at the same time, him being out gave her more time to prepare.
A couple of hours later, though, Khushi heard a car screech to a halt in the driveway. She turned down the volume of her CD player to make sure that she'd heard right.
Arnav stumbled into the bedroom a couple minutes later, taking Khushi by surprise. Khushi studied him for a few seconds and realized that he was drunk. Yes he drank at parties occasionally but he was never this drunk.
Concerned, Khushi got off the bed and rushed to him to help him. She stood in front of him and held him by the shoulders when he swayed. He saw her and frowned. Adding to her surprise, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. That was when she felt the first alarm in her mind. His grip was too tight...it felt different than it did this morning. It felt all wrong. A flare of anger was in his eyes and she couldn't explain where it had stemmed from.
He moved his face closer to hers and she turned her head away. The stench of alcohol was strong and repulsive. She wiggled a little bit to get out of his grip. He held her face at her jaw and forced her to turn towards him. She pushed him gently to get some distance in between them.
"Arnav...relax...come and sit on the bed...I'll get you some lemon juice..." Khushi said.
Arnav shook his head sideways. He pulled her a little closer. Now uncomfortable with the proximity and his intoxicated state, Khushi gently pushed him back again.
When he brought his face closer again, she had finally had enough and she used all her power to push him away. It didn't do much. He moved a couple of inches but now...he looked angry.
He moved quickly, still holding onto her and so quickly that Khushi didn't have time to register what he was doing. Now, as she was pressed up against the wall, and held there by his giant frame leaning on her, she couldn't do much but struggle helplessly when he bent down to kiss her neck.
"Arnav stop...just...relax." Khushi said, trying to push his head off and away from her neck.
What she didn't realize was that the more she struggled to get away, the more aggressive he became. When she tried to push him away, he simply grabbed both her hands by the wrists and twisted them around and behind her back. He held her hands there with one hand while his other hand reached around to her mid-back. She felt him tug at the string of pearls on her dress and heard them scatter on the floor around them.
When she finally realized what he was going to do, all she could do was stare at him shocked and hurt, "No...Please...don't..." she had a beautiful memory of their first kiss from this morning but now this would taint it. "Don't ruin it." She whispered as if the words would have any effect on him. She couldn't understand why he seemed so angry from the moment he walked in.
When his lips touched hers, she was shaking. Not because of passion or desire but because she was afraid. She was terrified. She continued to struggle though and he kept getting more aggressive. She felt a pang of pain as his teeth bit into her lower lip. A warm liquid that tasted like metal touched her tongue. Blood. Her blood.
Her self-defense kicked in then. She stomped on his foot, distracting him momentarily and that was all she needed. She yanked her hands out of his grip and ignored the pain that came from his nails digging into her skin as he tried to hold on.
As soon as she was free, she sprinted towards the door but just as her hand reached the doorknob, she felt his iron-hard arm go around her waist and in one swift movement, he swung her away from the only door to her escape.
Even more angered by her earlier kick, he pushed her away from him roughly. The force of impact had thrown Khushi onto the floor. At a loss of clear-headedness, in pain, and weakened by her earlier efforts at escaping, she dragged herself away from him. She heard his footsteps as he walked to the door. She heard the click of the lock.
She forced herself to look at him then. The man she saw in front of her wasn't Arnav. He wasn't the man she had kissed this morning. He wasn't the man she was going to confess her love to. He was gone. In his place, the beastly ASR stood, looking more furious than she'd ever seen him before. Wild hunger danced in his eyes.
"Why are you doing this?!" Khushi choked.
She saw him blink and his expression became neutral. He seemed like he was thinking about something. Then, just as fast as he had calmed down, he had gotten furious. His eyes full of anger zeroed in on her and she felt trapped in the locks of his gaze.
Her own eyes were filled with tears. She could barely find her voice. She wanted to tell him to stop. She wanted her Arnav to fight off the beast that hid within him. As he stumbled on his way back, his hand turned the volume knob on the CD player and the music blared to a deafening level. Khushi looked at his slightly staggering steps in the hope that him being drunk would give her a shot at escaping. In her heart, though, she knew that he was drunk...but not enough to save her from what was coming.
As he started walking towards her like a predator, she moved towards the bed, away from him, still unable to make herself get up. He had caught her off guard and she was still shell-shocked to react quickly enough. What the hell was happening? Why was it happening? What had come over him?
He walked slowly, eyes full of lust and rage set on her as he unbuttoned his shirt, stripped it away from his body and threw it to the floor.
The belt came off next and landed next to the shirt. Khushi's back was to the foot of the bed when Arnav grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up roughly. She constantly muttered 'no', 'please', and 'stop'. She willed her legs to keep moving backwards.
Her thighs hit the edge of the dressing table and as she tried to run from there, she knocked off a bunch of items. She ran towards the bookshelf, suddenly seeing a ray of hope because she'd thought that she had stumped him. But he had beaten her to it again. He already had her delicate wrist in his hand. He pulled her against his bare chest while she tried to free herself as if that would stop what she knew was going to happen next.
He pinned her to the closest wall, a couple of her bangles broke and stabbed her skin in the process. He moved towards the side of the bed and tossed her onto the bed. Khushi used anything she could grab to throw at him to stop him from getting any closer.
Every time she fought, she could feel his nails digging into her arms, shoulder, neck, and waist as he tried to hold her in one place. She knew she was losing the fight when she felt her dress's buttons pop one by one. Physically, she was still weaker than a drunken ASR and her efforts at escaping his clutches had drained her. The shock of what was happening had fogged her mind. She could think coherently enough to figure out how to get out of this room.
She let out a pained moan when his teeth sank into her skin at the neck-shoulder junction. She gave up the fight then, and surrendered to tears, pleads, and screams as her husband stripped her of her dignity, of her innocence, her virtue.
She twisted and turned to try her best to avoid his attacks. She scratched his back and arms, not as a defense mechanism, but in a hope that the pain from her scratches would bring him to his senses and make him stop.
All her screams and pleads melted into the blaring music...and she knew then that no matter how much she screamed, no one was going to come to help her. No one was home, firstly, and secondly, even if someone was, they wouldn't have heard anything because of the deafening music.
Annoyed by her scratches, he pinned her arms on the bed, to her sides and broke all boundaries of lust. Khushi let out an agonized scream which flowed into tortured sobs as she felt herself die a little bit inside. After that, her vision started to blur further by more tears. Somewhere in the middle of the tremendous torture he put her through, she froze. She didn't try to get away. She didn't twist and turn to get out of his grip. She knew there was no point in fighting him now. She would only be inviting more pain for herself if she tried. Besides she had lost already.
*
After he had finished venting all his anger and lust on her, she fell asleep crying, still wrapped and immobilized by his arms as if they were venomous snakes.
When she woke up, she knew a few things right away. She knew that she would be in pain the moment she moved. She knew that her body was bared, scarred, and bruised under the covers. She knew exactly where the bruises were without looking at the mirror. She knew who lay next to her but she was afraid to look. Afraid that if he was awake, when she looked at him, his assault would start again.
She listened closely for his breathing and heard the deep and regular breathing patterns. His arms weren't as tight around her waist anymore. They were somewhat limp. He was asleep. She ignored the ache in her arms when she unwrapped herself from the confinements of his limbs.
She edged an inch towards the edge of the bed, ignoring her aching body but she froze immediately as she felt Arnav stir. She waited a few seconds until his breathing went back to a normal pace. She grabbed the sheet that was covering her and slid a little more towards the edge. Arnav didn't move this time. Khushi slid to the floor as quietly as she could, wrapped in the sheet.
She felt sheer agony when she tried to get up. She felt weak. She crawled around the bookshelf which was messy now after the events a few hours ago. She hid herself between the tiny spot, in the gap between the bookshelf and the wall.
She leaned her head against the wall, hugged her knees to her chest and took a look around the room. The books weren't neatly stacked on the bookshelf anymore. A couple of them had fallen onto the floor. The dressing table was a mess. The pillows from the bed were scattered all around the room. One pillow had even ripped, leaving plumps of down everywhere. Then her eyes fell on a pile of fabric which was supposed to be her clothes.
That was when everything rushed back to her. Every detail of the unfortunate event ran through her mind like fast-acting venom, increasing her pain, torturing her. She hugged her knees even tighter as the tears came.
She had flashbacks of random scenes from the event. She didn't know how much she cried or how long she cried. A little while later, she was sitting in the same spot, her head resting on her knees, no longer crying. Her eyes were stinging and dry, her throat felt like she was being strangled, her head pounded as if someone was hitting it with a hammer.
The rustling of the bed sheets made Khushi's head jerk up. Instinctively, she pushed her head against the wall. She squeezed further into the tiny corner as if the wall would magically shrink to make more room for her. She heard a clatter when something hit the floor. The sound was deafening in the silence.
(End of Flashback)
A similar clattering just outside her office brought her back to the present. She got up and rushed out to see Anjali passed out on the floor. Khushi swore audibly and bent over Anjali, lifting her head onto her lap. She patted her cheeks.
"Wake up Anjali! Anjali!" Khushi shook her a little but no change was seen in Anjali. Khushi saw a group of kids at the end of the hallway.
"Aditya!" she yelled to one of them. "Go get Angad...Now!"
The boy ran off and a couple of long minutes later came back with Angad and Kripa running ahead of them. The three half-carried Anjali to Khushi's car and Khushi drove her to the hospital.
Meanwhile, on the other hand, Arnav had fallen prey to his dark past despite trying to escape the memories. The memories had clouded his mind no matter how much he tried to lock them out.
(Flashback)
He remembered that he had called Khushi to let her know that the delegates wanted to go out and talk over dinner. What he hadn't told her was that they were headed for a bar. Perhaps he should have. If he had, maybe she would have protested and he would have come back home sober and calm and none of it would have happened.
He had just finished dinner with the delegates and the rest of the office staff. Their conversation had irked him a bit because it was no longer about business. The conversation had led from fashion shows to models to the one night stands of the staff members with the models, to the married and sexual life of the men present in the so called meeting.
When the eyes had turned on the newest husband of the group, Arnav, he had refused to make a comment. Not because he and Khushi hadn't taken that step in their relationship yet, but because he had felt that it was his and Khushi's business and no one needed to know about it.
The rest of them, however, had misinterpreted his refusal to comment. They thought that he wouldn't say anything because he didn't have a physical relationship with his own wife. Intoxicated by all the alcohol, they had started making fun of him. Each one of their comments was a jab at his ego. He felt his anger rising and he hadn't realized until later that he had downed drinks after drinks in order to keep calm.
"Some men just can't keep their woman under control...the women control them..." one of them drawled, laughing like a hyena at his own joke.
Arnav couldn't understand why this was such a big deal to them! Why the hell was he going to do business with them anyway? These were clearly one-track minded, perverted, middle-aged men who wanted nothing but sex from women.
"Or maybe there is some other issue that makes him...you know...incapable." another one chided him.
Arnav downed another drink as the rest joined in the laughter.
"Don't worry Mr. Raizada...we're only joking!" drawled the one with the big bald spot and a potbelly.
Arnav's anger knew no bounds. There was only one thought in his mind. He wasn't incapable. He would prove that to them and to himself. Not that he doubted it. No one jabbed Arnav Singh Raizada's ego. A man is never as pissed off as he is when his ego is hurt.
So he drove home, breaking at least 50 traffic rules. He stumbled into the room and found Khushi there. Seeing her made him recall all the comments and taunts that were directed at him, at his ego back at the bar and his anger rose a little bit more.
He didn't have a vivid memory of his own actions, thank God, but he did have memories of her expressions. Her cries. Her pleads. Her futile struggles to escape the clutches of her anger and lust driven husband. The pain in her eyes. The fear in her eyes. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't erase that from his memory.
Arnav groaned and sat up on the bed hearing the sound of something falling on the floor. He looked around him to see what had fallen but instead registered the mess in the room. He looked at the room in slow motion, starting from the corner opposite from Khushi's hiding spot.
He registered small drop sized blood stains on the bed sheets, on his hands. Something tugged at his conscience. He took another look around the room, this time being able to associate blurry images of Khushi's struggles at each part of the room. His head was suddenly filled with her cries, her screams, her pleads.
The confusion cleared and the dark realization dawned upon him slowly as he scanned the room over and over again. "No..." He thought to himself, panicking. He hadn't. He couldn't have.
He ran his hand through his hair and in that moment, he saw something in his peripheral vision. He twisted his arm to get a better look. Scratch marks. He swore audibly and heard a muffled gasp from the corner he hadn't looked in.
There he saw her toes. His heart plummeted to the ground. He hopped off the bed, grabbed his jeans and put them on before heading over to her with a heavy heart. Arnav's heart shattered in a million pieces as he took in the sight.
Her hair was messy, her skin bruised, the corner of her lips must've been bleeding at one point. Her face was tear-stained. Her eyes were bloodshot. And the thing that broke his heart the most was the fear on her face and in her eyes. Fear of him.
The reality struck him like lightening. He had done this. He'd done this to her. To his wife. To the woman he had fallen in love with.
His hand automatically reached out to consol her but she cowered back further into the corner and whimpered, her body starting to tremble.
"Khushi?" He called out with love but she just stared at his hand as if it were a snake advancing towards her to strike at her. He moved his hand just an inch closer, in an attempt to let her know that he wasn't going to hurt her. That was when a sob escaped her throat. Her breathing rugged and laboured and this told him that she'd been crying for a long time.
Arnav kneeled in front of her with exaggerated slowness. With the same slowness, he extended his hand towards her once more.
She didn't move back this time. Instead, she shut her eyes tight and sobbed freely. Arnav stood up and took a step away from her, putting his hands up as if he was on gunpoint.
"Okay...okay...I won't come close...I'll...stay away."
She opened her eyes, her body still shivering. He looked at her for a few minutes, feeling helpless, tears rushing into his eyes, his heart shattering over and over again, trying desperately to find something to say or something to do to ease her pain, wanting to kill himself for what he'd done. She didn't look at him at all. She seemed somewhere far away. Tears didn't stop flooding her eyes.
He looked at each bruise, each scar, each teeth mark on her skin. Visuals and her agonized screams and her desperate pleads flooded his mind, bringing stinging tears to his eyes. He rushed out of the room, not being able to stand there in front of her. His fists were clenched in tight fists. He walked into the guest room and within a few seconds, the decor of the room matched the current state of their bedroom. He had thrown things, broken things, tried everything to ease the ache in his heart, to subside the gigantic waves of guilt.
He walked into the bathroom and looked at the mirror. He registered scratches on his shoulders, biceps, chest and waist. This time, along with her screams and pleads, the visuals of her futile attempts to escape, to make him stop, came rushing to him. Blood boiled in his veins and tears of anger filled his eyes. He glared at his reflection, hating the person he saw.
When the anger broke through all its boundaries, he drew his fist back and punched the mirror multiple times until it shattered into hundreds of pieces. He let himself bleed until each piece of the shattered mirror had his blood on it. The reflection of himself he saw in the shattered pieces of the mirror wasn't human; instead, he saw a beast. He was a beast.
Falling prey to alcohol and unimportant people's comments, he had hurt the woman who was the most important part of his life. The woman who was the most important part of him. He had raped his own wife. He cried when the guilt became unbearable. How could he have done something so gruesome? How could he have done this to Khushi? To the Khushi he loved?
He held his head in his hands and sobbed freely. The guilt and anger at himself for what he'd done didn't wash away with the tears. Instead, it increased a bit by bit with every tear. In his heart he knew that this crime of his would leave a permanent mark in his life, in her life, in their married life. But it didn't stop here.
Later he would learn that he had really killed Khushi Singh Raizada. He would learn that his actions hadn't only broken her trust and her heart, but had torn apart her very being.
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