Khushi’s voice trembled as she called out to him, "Arnavji," tears streaming down her face. But Arnav, lost in the turmoil of his own mind, looked away. His voice was low, broken, and distant as he muttered, "I can give you nothing but pain, Khushi. Please... move out of my life."

His words hit her like a wave of cold water, but Khushi wasn’t going to give up. She took his face in her hands, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her trembling fingers. "Arnavji, please..." she pleaded, her voice desperate to reach him, to break through the barrier of his self-loathing.

"Whenever you came to me, I only gave you pain," he whispered, his eyes hollow and defeated. "I don’t want to give you pain anymore."

Khushi's heart clenched at his words. How could he say that? After everything they had been through, how could he push her away like this? "No, Arnavji. Why are you saying such things? This isn’t you." She tried to bring him back, to remind him of the strength they had together, of the love they shared.

But Arnav was lost in his own agony, the weight of his guilt crushing him. He couldn’t separate the pain of his past from his present. "Khushi, I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. I don’t know who’s innocent or guilty. I only know that whenever you’re near me, there’s always a reason to hate you. And I don’t want to hate you, Khushi. I’ve tried so hard to stop, but I don’t want to hurt you again." His voice broke, and he pushed her away, his hands shaking.

Khushi stepped back, her eyes wide with shock as she watched him break down in front of her, his hands grabbing the edges of the bench, his knuckles white with tension. He screamed in frustration, the pain of years of unresolved trauma bubbling to the surface. How could she reach him? How could she convince him that he wasn’t a danger to her, that she would endure any pain as long as they were together?

Her mind raced, and then, in a sudden flash of determination, she made a decision. "I’m sorry, Arnavji, but I have to bring ASR back," she thought, her resolve hardening.

"Go away, Khushi," he repeated, his voice flat, the same words falling from his lips like an incantation.

But this time, Khushi didn’t flinch. She straightened her back, lifting her chin as she met his gaze. "No, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada, I won’t go away."

Arnav’s eyes snapped to hers, surprised by the sudden change in her tone. She had called him by his full name, the way she used to when she despised him, when their relationship was built on nothing but misunderstandings and bitterness. It was a tactic to snap him out of his spiral, and Khushi wasn’t going to back down.

"Why do you think I married you? To leave you at the first sign of trouble?" Her voice was steady, filled with an unexpected strength. "Is it so easy for you to break this marriage? You’ve hurt me before, from the very first time we met. I thought those days of pain were behind us. I forgave you when you apologized during the shagun night, Arnavji. I thought this marriage would be a fresh start for us."

Her words pierced through the fog in Arnav’s mind, each one striking a chord deep within him.

"But no, this remarriage means nothing to you, does it? Because you, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada, are ready to break it all over again!" she shouted, her voice breaking with the intensity of her emotions.

Arnav flinched at the accusation, guilt spreading across his face as Khushi continued. "What do you think I am? A toy you can play with when you want and throw away when you’re done? No! I have feelings too, Arnavji. I feel pain too. The last time, you married me for six months under a contract. But this time, we married properly, with all the rituals. And if you want me to leave, then fine." She paused, her next words calculated and sharp.

"Then give me a proper divorce."

The word "divorce" hung in the air between them, like a dagger poised to strike. Arnav stared at her, stunned. "Divorce?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Yes, divorce," she repeated firmly. "You want me gone, don’t you? So let’s do it properly. But to get a divorce, we have to live together for six months. And I’m not leaving until then."

Khushi’s words had the desired effect. Arnav blinked, the shock of her statement pulling him out of his stupor. She had taken control of the situation, flipping it in a way that forced him to confront his own irrational fears.

"This is a contract marriage again, Mr. Raizada," she declared. "But this time, I’ll be the one writing the rules."

Arnav’s eyes darkened with the resurgence of the man he used to be—the powerful, determined ASR. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?" he growled, his anger rising as he clenched his fists.

Khushi felt a surge of triumph. She had drawn out the ASR in him, the man who wouldn’t let anyone dictate his life. "I’m doing what you would do, Arnavji. If you want me to leave, then you have to do it on my terms."

Arnav stepped closer, his hands gripping her arms tightly. His breath was hot against her skin as he spoke in a low, dangerous voice. "Don’t play with fire, Khushi. You’ll get burned."

Khushi’s heart raced, but she didn’t back down. "I’m not afraid of the fire, Arnavji. I know it won’t burn me. In fact, it will die out before it can touch me."

For a moment, they stood there, the tension thick between them, neither willing to back down. Finally, Arnav released her, his eyes softening just slightly. "Get in the car," he muttered, turning away from her.

Khushi smiled inwardly, thanking Devi Maiya for giving her the strength to stand her ground. Let Arnavji think what he wanted for now, they would live together. She was determined to win back his love in those six months, no matter what it took. She would bring the real Arnav Singh Raizada back to her, and she would make sure that this time, no force could tear them apart.

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Uzma.