Lawfully Yours - Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Verma and Associates Office
The next morning, Arundhati stepped into the sleek marble lobby of Verma & Associates. Her left arm still ached from the biker's careless brush the night before, making it almost stiff and useless. She had balanced her files, phone, and coffee all in her right arm, trying to avoid straining the sore muscles any further.
Staff members greeted her as they passed, and she responded with nods and polite smiles, but didn’t stop. Her mind was already in work mode, willing her body to keep up.
As she approached the glass door of her cabin, she instinctively moved to push it open with her left arm. The moment her fingers met the handle, a sharp pain radiated through her shoulder. She gasped, recoiling slightly, her body frozen in a moment of helpless frustration. Arundhati considered calling out for someone to help.
But before the words even formed on her lips, a familiar scent enveloped her and a strong arm slid past her shoulder and pushed the glass door open smoothly. Her breath hitched as she didn’t need to turn to know.
It was Kushal.
He appeared beside her like a storm dressed in a suit—calm on the surface, but always carrying lightning. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t look at her. He just held the door open, waiting.
As she stepped inside and glanced sideways, her heart betrayed her just a little as it skipped.
“Thank you,” she murmured, almost breathlessly.
But he was already gone. Gone before the words left her lips, disappearing down the hallway like he hadn’t just touched her day in the smallest, most intimate way by caring for her.
She fumed inwardly.
That was Kushal Nair for you—appearing when she least expected, doing things that made her heart stutter, and then leaving her to pick up the pieces of her composure. As if she had broken their marriage. As if she had betrayed the vows.
With her jaw clenched, Arundhati moved inside and dropped her things onto the desk. But something caught her eye—a small blister pack of tablets, neatly placed beside her webtop.
Her fingers hovered over them.
Antacids?
She blinked in surprise. It was a habit—taking an antacid before any strong painkiller, or her acidity would spiral out of control. After the accident last night, she had been relying on painkillers to manage the discomfort in her arm. But in her rush to leave home this morning, she’d forgotten to pack her antacids. So who had brought these and placed them here on her desk? She hadn’t mentioned it to anyone.
Her pulse quickened as she stared at the pack. There were only two people who might’ve done this—her uncle or Kushal.
With suspicion narrowing in, she picked up the receiver and dialed her uncle’s extension.
“Uncle? Did you leave antacid tablets on my desk?”
“Antacids?” Raj Verma sounded puzzled. “Why? Are you unwell? What happened?”
So it wasn’t him.
Her heart sank and fluttered at the same time. Because if it wasn’t her uncle, there was only one other person who could’ve known about her body’s reaction to strong medication without a buffer. The same person who had witnessed the accident last night. But the part that truly caught her breath—was that he still remembered.
She swallowed hard, a strange heat rising in her chest. Before her logic could argue, she took the medicines and left her cabin with the blister pack still in hand.
But Kushal wasn’t in his room.
“He just went to Mr. Verma’s cabin,” the peon informed her.
Without thinking, she changed course.
She reached her uncle’s cabin and pushed the door open only to find both men mid-conversation. Both turned sharply at her sudden entrance.
“Sorry to interrupt, Uncle,” she said, quickly regaining her calm as she stepped in.
Kushal’s eyes locked onto hers immediately. He looked surprised just for a second as she walked straight to where he stood and held out the pack of tablets. “You didn’t have to bother.”
Handing them to him, she turned, ready to leave, but he reached out and caught her by the right arm—not harsh, but firm enough to make her stop and face him again.
“It’s just medicine, Arundhati. Why are you making it a big deal?”
She looked at his hand holding her and then up at him.
“Because I don’t want you walking into our court hearings the next time, acting like the devoted husband who still cares. Using things like this and manipulating the court, to make everyone believe like our marriage is salvageable.”
His eyes darkened and she knew what that look of his meant. He didn’t like what she just said. So what? That doesn’t change anything.
“If a strip of antacids could save our marriage, I’d open a pharmacy just for you, right next to your cabin,” he retorted.
Her lips parted in disbelief. He said it with that maddening smirk of his while his fingers still loosely curled around her arm, as if daring her to say more.
And she did.
“Even if you buy the entire pharmaceutical company for me, Kushal, I still wouldn’t want to continue this marriage.”
In a fit of frustration, she shoved him back with her left arm. Pain shot through her shoulder right then. Arundhati gasped, stumbling slightly.
Before she could react, Kushal’s arms were around her. He steadied her, one hand on her waist, the other cradling her injured arm with care she didn’t expect. His brows pulled together in genuine concern as he began massaging the tender muscle gently.
“Easy,” he murmured. “You’ll make it worse.”
She should’ve pushed him away. Should’ve said something biting. But the warmth of his touch, the sincerity in his tone, the way his thumb moved in soft, slow circles—it all made her heart thud traitorously in her chest. Again!
She just stared at him, words lost, breath tangled.
Raj stood up, frowning. “Will someone tell me what the hell is going on here? Is Aru hurt? When? How?”
Arundhati didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Not when Kushal’s hand was still wrapped protectively around her arm… and not when she realized her uncle wasn’t the only one who’d seen her pain before she’d said a word.
The silence was too loud, broken only when Kushal finally turned to Raj.
“Nothing serious, Sir. Just a small accident last night while I was dropping her home. A biker brushed past and hit her arm.”
Raj’s eyes widened, his expression hardening. “Why wasn’t I informed? Did either of you get her checked? Aru, you should’ve called me immediately. We should have had her examined—”
Arundhati raised her hand, stopping her uncle gently but firmly. “Uncle, I’m fine. I spoke to Dr. Deepa this morning. She said it’s a minor soft tissue injury. There’s no swelling. Just some shooting pain now and then. She prescribed strong painkillers, and I’ve already placed the order. It’s all under control.”
Raj sighed, but nodded, clearly still uneasy. That was when Arundhati’s gaze drifted to the strip of antacid tablets she had handed back to Kushal moments ago.