Lawfully Yours - Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Raj Verma’s Villa, Delhi – Birthday Party
When Arundhati descended the grand staircase, heads turned at her graceful presence, her saree clinging to her in perfect folds. The same saree Kushal had draped around her. And he now stood by the bar, holding a glass of scotch, his gaze locked on her as if the rest of the world had melted away.
Their eyes met for a brief second but she looked away first, pretending to scan the guests.
But it didn’t stop there.
A few minutes later, while she politely smiled at a guest, she felt that familiar pull again. Her eyes betrayed her, flickering back toward the bar where Kushal stood, his scotch now forgotten in his hand, his entire attention riveted to her. His stare was no longer mocking, no longer sharp with arrogance. It was deeper and genuine. As if he was lowering his guard for her.
Arundhati straightened her shoulders and quickly turned her attention to someone else, but not before catching the way his mouth curved into a regretful smirk.
She moved around the party, exchanging pleasantries, feeling his gaze trailing her, like a secret touch only she could sense. Even when she wasn’t looking, she knew. Kushal’s presence wasn’t easy to ignore. And tonight, it was impossible.
And the strange thing was, it reminded her of the first time they had met like this, at Verma & Associates’ 20th Anniversary Celebration. Even then, their eyes had found each other across a crowd, speaking volumes where words had failed. Two strangers caught in a magnetic pull, too stubborn to approach, too affected to look away. History was repeating itself tonight but with far more complicated emotions layered between them.
Her mind drifted back to what had happened upstairs. The way Kushal had helped her with her saree, the way he had said he wanted to talk. She knew. It had to be about Kamya. About the past. Only because once again, today, she had reminded him how wrong he had been—how his choices, his ambitions, had driven them here, on opposite sides of their divorce battle.
Minutes later, a server approached Arundhati with a folded tissue. She raised an eyebrow but accepted it.
As she unfolded the tissue, she found Kushal’s unmistakable handwriting:
“I helped you wear that saree. I deserve at least a thank you. But since I know you won’t part those precious lips to say those two beautiful words, let your ears do the work instead. Just listen to what I have to say.”
Her gaze snapped across the room, and sure enough, Kushal stood there watching, sipping his drink, waiting. Arundhati’s fingers crumpled the tissue deliberately and tore it into pieces without breaking eye contact. Although he raised his glass in mock salute, taking another slow sip, she could see it—he was seething.
He could make anyone bend, but not her. She was as stubborn as a flame that refused to go out.
Cake-cutting time arrived. Everyone gathered around Raj Verma who cut the cake and fed Arundhati the first bite, hugging her tightly, his love for his niece obvious. She fed him back, laughing warmly, returning the hug.
Then Raj turned to Kushal, feeding him a piece as well.
Soon music buzzed around them and Raj pulled Arundhati onto the dance floor. She laughed, spinning lightly with her uncle. But even in the twirls and graceful moves, her eyes flickered back to Kushal who leaned against a pillar, glass of scotch in hand, his gaze shadowing her every movement.
And then it happened.
One of her younger cousins—a tall, pretty girl visiting from Bangalore, made her way to Kushal with a hopeful smile, asking him for a dance. Arundhati, still dancing with Raj, stiffened. Unknowingly, she held her breath, waiting—watching—curious and tense without understanding why.
Would he accept?
Would he take her hand, step into the crowd, and sway with someone else?
Kushal didn’t even hesitate. He politely declined, motioning toward Akash, the junior lawyers at Verma & Associates, and paired her cousin with him instead. Her cousin didn’t mind, laughing it off, but Arundhati realized only then how tightly she’d been gripping Raj’s hand during the dance.
Only when Kushal refused did she let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh of relief.
Raj noticed immediately.
“It’s bad manners to ignore your dance partner,” he teased, gently twirling her around again.