Thank goodness Aarush was staying with Mary and her boys for a couple of days, Khushi thought with weary relief. Arnav's black moods were beginning to take their toll on their son no matter how Khushi tried to shield Aarush from them. Unbidden, the admission came that her own nerves were strained to the point of rawness.
Her brown eyes darkened with anguish at the sight of the once proud and vital man confined to a wheelchair. She felt the mental torture and pain almost as intensely as her husband did. Worst of all to bear was her inability to help him.
As if he sensed her presence, a large hand gripped a wheel and pivoted the chair around. Hurriedly Khushi fixed a bright smile on her lips before she was impaled on the rapier thrust of Arnav's dark gaze.
Khushi: Good morning, darling...
She murmured smoothly.
Khushi: You're up and about early today."
Arnav: Yes...
His harshly clipped response comes as He propelled the chair forward at her approach. His clean-cut features were rigidly drawn in forbidding lines.
Khushi: You forgot to shave this morning...
She chided laughingly, and stepped behind his chair to push him into the dining room.
Arnav: I didn't forget. I just didn't see the need... he replied tautly.
Khushi: You haven't kissed a sheet of your laptop lately or you might Change your mind about that...
The forced attempt at light humor made her voice sound brittle.
Arnav: No one is making you do it, Khushi...
Arnav sounded so cold and insensitive that she had to close her eyes to remember that he really loved her. It was only his bitterness talking. She couldn't blame him for being bitter.
Khushi: No one is making me...
She agreed, keeping the tone of lightness, however artificial it was.
Khushi: I do it strictly out of desire...
She pushed his chair to the head of the table, already set for breakfast.
As she released his wheelchair handles and stepped to the seat at his right, she felt the slash of his gaze.
Arnav: Since when did my passionate wife become satisfied with a mere kiss on the cheek?"
He asked softly. Khushi flinched inwardly.
Khushi: It's enough for the time being...
She reached for the juice pitcher sitting in the middle of the table.
Arnav: It won't be forever...
His mouth quirked cynically, and something sharp stabbed Khushi's heart at the action. Maria's appearance with the coffee forestalled any caustic response Arnav intended to make.
Maria: Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes...
Maria announced, filling the coffee mugs and setting the pot on the table.
Khushi: Fine... she smiled, using the break to change the conversation as the plump Mexican woman left the room.
Khushi: Aman will be in shortly... We want to go over the yearling list with you to get your recommendations on the ones we should keep as breeding prospects."
Arnav: Spare me a token involvement... His lips thinned, hardening his expression.
Arnav: You and Aman have very capably operated the AR design this past year without my help or advice. I don't need any magnanimous gestures implying I still have a hand in running things...
Khushi's control snapped, pain bursting through her chest. Pressing her lips tightly together, she tried to breathe deeply. She couldn't endure another bitter argument.
Khushi: Arnav, please. Let's not get into this again...
She begged tautly.
Arnav: Then don't patronize me! He snapped.
Khushi: We aren't... she protested.
Arnav: Aren't you?
Dark eyes flashed like burning coals.
Arnav: Go over the list of yearlings...
He mocked sarcastically.
Arnav: The AR design is your company. Do what you like!
Khushi: It was your company. It became our company, but it was never mine...
Khushi cried out in frustration.
Khushi: All Aman and I have been trying to do is keep it going until...
Arnav: Until I was well again?
Arnav interrupted a sardonic dryness in his tone. A contemptuous sound came from his throat.
Arnav: It's very likely that I'm as well as I'm going to get...
Khushi: No... But it was a whispered word, half choked by an invisible stranglehold around her throat.
Arnav: Face the truth, Khushi...
He demanded harshly.
Arnav: It would have been better if he hadn't pulled me from the wreckage of the plane."
Khushi: How can you say that!
She breathed in sharply. Her hands were trembling. She stared at them, remembering the agony she had suffered nearly a year ago when she had thought Arnav might not live.
Khushi: I love you. How could you possibly think anything would be better if you were dead?
Arnav: Look at me...
When she didn't immediately obey his order, his fingers dug into the bones of her slender wrist and twisted it until her widened brown eyes met the chilling darkness of his. There was an arrogant flare of his nostrils in challenge.
Arnav: Look at me, Khushi, and tell me if it's love you feel or pity...
Khushi obeyed, slowly inspecting his masculine features.
A year's convalescence had paled his sun-browned skin to a golden hue. The chiseled lines were blunted by a weight loss that hadn't been completely regained. Yet the rugged leanness only seemed to increase his compelling looks.
Marriage had not lessened the physical attraction Arnav held for her, only heightened it.
There was nothing about his handsome face to pity, nor the wide shoulders and strong arms. But when her gaze slipped to his long, muscled legs that had once enabled him to tower above her, Khushi was forced to remember that Arnav sat in a wheelchair.
Her heart cried at the injustice of it. It was like seeing a noble savage, proud and arrogant and chained against his will. Yes, it tore at her heart, but it did so because she loved him.
Khushi: I love you, Arnav...
She answered at last, lifting her gaze to his face. He sighed heavily and released her wrist. His hand closed around the juice glass. There was a suppressed violence about him, as if he wanted to hurl the glass and see it shatter into a thousand pieces.
Khushi laid a hand on his forearm and felt him stiffen at her touch.
Khushi: Arnav, you have to believe you'll walk again.
She leaned toward him earnestly.
Khushi: It isn't as if you're without hope. This last operation, you did regain some feeling in your legs. It's just a slow healing process until the doctors can test how extensive the recovery will be...
His hard gaze shifted to her with lazy cynicism.
Arnav: Or how limited...
He reminded her dryly.
Arnav: Forgive me if I'd rather prepare for the worst...
He mocked, shrugging his arm away from her touch. He released the brake in the wheelchair and pushed it away from the table.
Arnav: Tell Maria that I'm not hungry...
Khushi: Arnav, you have to eat!
She protested as he rolled toward the living room.
Arnav: I don't have to do anything...
He replied without a backward glance. Khushi started to follow him, and then sat back in her chair. Their somewhat embittered discussion had stolen her appetite, too. It revealed so much of the frustration they had known in the past year since the engine of Arnav's plane had failed on takeoff from a friend's ranch and he had crashed.
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What do you think about Arshi relation here? Will he let her help him and able to walk again?
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