Love Bi the Way

by Bhaavna Arora

  BHAAVNA ARORA

  Love Bi the Way

  PENGUIN BOOKS

  Contents

  1. A Long, Sleepless Night

  2. Final Destination

  3. Hate the Sin, Not the Sinner

  4. A Much-needed Release

  5. Crapilicious

  6. A Royal Encounter

  7. Royally Loved

  8. Snakes and Smut

  9. Skeletons Out of the Closet

  10. Yin and Yin

  11. Love Has No Barriers

  Acknowledgements

  Follow Penguin

  Copyright

  PENGUIN BOOKS

  LOVE BI THE WAY

  Bhaavna Arora is the bestselling author of The Deliberate Sinner and Mistress of Honour. Before her foray into writing, she was heading a business school as a director; she also trains students and professionals in leadership. She holds two management degrees and a PhD in leadership from Pittsford University.

  A fourth-generation army kid, Bhaavna is a true patriot. She enjoys reading, travelling, swimming, horse riding and sports, and has a weakness for big bikes and cars.

  By the same author

  Mistress of Honour

  The Deliberate Sinner

  To all my readers

  1

  A Long, Sleepless Night

  A bell rang somewhere in the darkness of the night. It was a distant sound but managed to infiltrate Rihana’s precious sleep.

  She usually slept late, but that night had been an exception. She had dozed off, having nothing better to do. Once her head hit the pillow, she hated being woken up—and the bell had pushed all the wrong buttons. She twitched now and rubbed her eyes, a part of her willing to pay attention, but the other convincing her that it was a dream, finally making her lose the battle to keep sleeping.

  But the visitor seemed resolute in his intention to wake the world up at that unearthly hour; the bell rang like church bells—one sharp burst after the other, with no breather in between. Rihana cursed in her slumber and weakly called out to Zara to go answer the door.

  By then, Tiger, her dog, had become alert and decided to add to the chaos with his incessant barking and occasional growling, more like a wolf than a dog. He was howling away, imitating the melody of the doorbell, perhaps even thrilled that he might be let out early for a pee and some fresh air.

  ‘Quiet, Tiger!’ Rihana sleepily commanded her one-year-old Labrador retriever. But the dog was in no mood to comply.

  The chaos woke Rihana up enough for her to be more aware of her surroundings. She suddenly remembered that Zara had not been keeping well. She bolted out of bed, grabbing her gown and pushing her arms into it while rushing downstairs towards Zara’s room. She was panicking as much out of concern for Zara—what with the cacophonous ringing of the doorbell and Tiger’s barks—as she was for her missing slippers. Not wanting to get her feet dirty, she ran back and frantically looked for her slippers. She walked along the wall, grappling in the dark for the light switch. Her feet shod, she ran down as fast as the wind.

  Wild thoughts were galloping through her fuzzy head, each one waking her up some more. She wondered who could be at the door. Was it some man she had told to fuck off and go play with himself—someone she had recently dumped perhaps? She wanted Zara by her side while she found out.

  She was on a self-imposed abstinence diet after aeons, a healthy routine of sorts. She was off men and alcohol. Both had started to become extremely injurious to her health. Alcohol made her an emotional wimp, and just when the emotions began settling down, the relationship went kaput. That brought her back to square one: overindulging in alcohol.

  And then there was the other issue. The first glass of wine got her horny and she enjoyed that part. But upon downing a bottle—which was almost always the case—her latent fears would surface and she would feel that every relationship was frivolous. She was an absolute failure when it came to maintaining a stable and committed relationship with any man.

  But now there was no alcohol and no men, except those whom she had rejected. Whoever it was at the door couldn’t possibly be Santa Claus. Rihana hoped it wasn’t someone dangerous.

  When she reached Zara’s room, out of breath and patience, she saw Zara fast asleep, heavily sedated perhaps by the medicines prescribed by her doctor. She had suffered from a major depressive disorder over the past couple of years. It had stuck on like a parasite, turning into a persistent strain depressive disorder. This had affected her sleep too. Rihana had not been able to detect the pattern in Zara’s sleep timings—she sometimes slept for hours together, while sometimes she went without sleep for many days and nights. That night, Rihana noted, Zara seemed to be in the sleeping-like-a-log phase. Rihana would have avoided waking her up if it wasn’t for the unearthly hour and the persistent visitor.

  ‘Zara, wake up! Someone’s at the door.’ Rihana shook Zara, managing to wake her up only after much effort. She looked dazed. It took her a while to fathom that it was the middle of the night and Rihana was waking her up because someone was at the door.

  ‘This better be God!’ Zara said, grabbing the remote by her side to switch on the TV that was connected to the security cameras. The cameras were planted around the house for the safety of the girls.

  ‘That’s Gudiya! What is she doing here? And why is she crying?’ Rihana gasped. They looked at each other with dread and suspected the worst when Gudiya, their house help Nandini’s daughter, showed up at their door so late. With their fear a little more in control now, they rushed to the door.

  Rihana had almost jumped on Zara to wake her up, in the process allowing Zara a whiff of her breath. In spite of the moment, Zara grilled Rihana, ‘How come you’re smelling so minty? Alcohol again?’

  ‘So much for your faith in me, Zara!’ Rihana retorted.

  ‘Life with you has taught me to watch out for dodgy breath masked with mint,’ Zara said sarcastically.

  Rihana shook her head in frustration. Hitting Zara on the head playfully, she exclaimed, ‘At least alcohol makes me interesting and sexy. Unlike your stupid sedatives.’

  They checked from the peephole once to ensure it was Gudiya and then opened the door. Both the girls were immensely fond of this brat standing in front of them. They had an inkling of what this could be about, but didn’t want panic to show on their faces. By now Zara was more used to it than Rihana as she had stayed with her help longer.

  ‘What happened?’ Rihana said as she put her arm around a wailing Gudiya. To lighten the situation and get her to stop sobbing so she could to talk to them, Rihana asked her, ‘Are your parents getting you married?’

  Since Zara was still partially sedated, she did not catch the intent behind Rihana’s ribbing at such a time and gave her a nasty look filled with contempt. But Rihana did not relent and continued, ‘I would be crying like this too if my parents were getting me married.’

  Zara took slightly longer, but finally understood what Rihana was up to. So, as if on cue, she played along perfectly. ‘Marriage and Rihana? No way! If it comes down to it, she will find a new groom every month.’

  This thought distracted Gudiya for a moment. Her tears vanished to make space for a half smile.

  Rihana looked at Zara and said in mock anger, ‘Listen, we can discuss my marriage later. Let’s sort this problem out first.’

  ‘You’re talking as if you have some plum proposals waiting, despite your colourful past,’ Zara said.

  ‘I have a colourful past because I don’t want marriage.’

  ‘Your future depends on your past, Rihana.’

  ‘I strongly disagree. The future is never guaranteed,’ Rihana iterated.

  Seeing their conversation going nowhere, Gudiya took Rihana’s hand and d
ragged her towards the servants’ quarters. Zara followed them drowsily.

  But Rihana continued with her argument, ‘One, there is no guarantee of a future, and two, the world doesn’t survive on guarantees.’

  ‘Really? Then what does it run on?’ Zara asked.

  ‘Darling, it runs on faith . . . A faith that your future will be better than your past. And see, my present is blissful. I have no regrets. Why should you?’

  ‘I’m worried about you, Ri. That’s all.’ Zara’s eyes had softened when she said this, as if she had stopped playing along. She meant every word of it.

  Rihana saw Zara’s change in expression, but brought the discussion back to point with, ‘Don’t be! I don’t want to be dependent on a woman who herself is dependent on sedatives for sleep.’

  Zara’s mouth opened in mock shock. ‘Now that’s being rude!’

  ‘Truth is always bitter, baby. Take it with a pinch of salt,’ Rihana added with a naughty smile.

  ‘Why do you always pick on me?’ Zara sounded like a complaining child.

  Gudiya and Rihana smiled at Zara.

  Now, with Gudiya visibly calmer, the motley crew and Tiger reached the servants’ quarters of their palatial home in Greater Kailash, one of Delhi’s posh localities. The comic swagger with which Tiger walked made it seem almost like the imp was going to take charge of the whole situation.

  Greater Kailash was a neighbourhood of affluence. The houses there were so expensive that, on an average, one would be required to trade in one’s kidneys, liver and then some more to think of owning a space there. Even this macabre barter of every part of one’s body for moolah may not be enough to afford a house there. That house, which they lovingly called ‘Cupid’, was Zara’s parents’ way of making up for not giving their daughter enough time and attention. Cupid was possibly the only girlie word used in their house, and that too because it was the name of the house.

  Gudiya was barely fourteen, and Rihana was adamant that she went to school like her brothers. So much so that despite Nandini, their maid, having begged them to let Gudiya start working for them, Rihana would have none of it. The problem didn’t end with saying no to Nandini—each time Rihana got Gudiya admitted in a school, the brat would run away from it. She would happily wash and clean at homes that didn’t care for her being underage, notwithstanding the fact that it was illegal for children below fourteen to be employed. Despite being a posh locality, supposedly housing the crème de la crème of society, it had to be seen to be believed that there were many who didn’t care that an actual child was working around their house—not as long as their houses were cleaned. Terms like ‘child labour’ were good for debates on noisy news shows. On the ground, things were as different as chalk and cheese.

  The sight that met them at Nandini’s was beyond gory and made Rihana seethe with silent rage. Nandini was lying on the floor with blood gushing out of her head and tears streaking down from her eyes. She was barely able to speak.

  Rihana and Zara bent down to help her up. When Nandini saw them, she murmured, ‘I’ll leave him this time. I can’t live this life of torture and humiliation. Didi, what wrong do I do? I work all day, to earn and feed my kids, and this man comes home and beats the hell out of me.’

  Rihana helped her up while Nandini held her head with one hand. Rihana’s clothes turned red, soaked in Nandini’s blood. Meanwhile, Zara called up her driver, Kanhaiya, who took a while to pick up the phone. He was used to this routine and it wasn’t the first time he was receiving a call from his unpredictable madam. But that was a part of his job. When he was entrusted with Zara’s responsibility, he was also promised a handsome salary and free education for his children. The only condition was for him to ensure his availability for Zara whenever she needed his help, wherever she did.

  ‘Give wings to a poor man’s aspirations and he will emerge from poverty only to be dependent on his providers,’ Zara’s mother Shaheen had philosophized before appointing Kanhaiya and the other help to look after her only daughter. Kanhaiya didn’t stay on the premises and lived a little further away.

  Kanhaiya appeared within the next few minutes and helped Nandini get into the car. They rushed her to a nearby hospital. Tiger sat in front with Rihana as he was quite used to that drill while Gudiya and Zara supported Nandini on the back seat. Rihana let Tiger come along as convincing him to stay back would have taken longer and they couldn’t waste any more time.

  After finishing the admission formalities at the hospital, Kanhaiya said, ‘Madam, I’ll drop you two home and then come back here. The doctors are taking care of her, and there’s nothing to worry about. Plus you should take some rest. It’s too late.’

  ‘That’s all right, Kanhaiya. But what did the doctor say?’ asked a concerned Rihana.

  ‘Nothing, madamji. They have given her painkillers and stitched up the gash on her head with five stitches. Although we can take her back right away, I feel we should leave her here for tonight. Her husband might beat her up again otherwise.’

  Rihana and Zara agreed with Kanhaiya, who knew the drill all too well. But they both wanted to make sure that Nandini was okay before they left. So Rihana handed Tiger’s leash over to Kanhaiya and they walked towards Nandini’s room, where two doctors were making some notes.

  Tiger wriggled to get free and follow Rihana, but Kanhaiya held on tight. Starting from when he was a puppy, Tiger had developed an I-won’t-let-you-go-anywhere bond with Rihana, which was perfectly reciprocated by her.

  ‘How did this happen?’ The doctor was questioning Nandini when the girls entered.

  ‘I slipped from the stairs and hit my head on the railing,’ said Nandini in a well-rehearsed tone, with a deadpan expression.

  ‘How did your lips get swollen then? And this mark on your cheek?’ said the indignant doctor, clearly not believing a word she had said.

  Nandini had no answers and looked away. The doctor turned to Rihana and, waving the pen he was writing with, asked her, ‘Do you know anything about this?’

  Rihana opened her mouth but no words came out. Realizing that her tongue had probably rolled to the floor, she quickly shut it. The doctor was drop-dead gorgeous! He looked at her with intense, serious eyes while she sized him up. Probably in his late twenties or early thirties, the doc had a chiselled jawline, slim waist and broad shoulders. Definitely seemed to be a fitness freak who hit the gym, rain or shine.

  ‘Do you know anything about this?’ He repeated his question, bringing Rihana back to her senses.

  ‘Hi, I’m Rihana. I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name,’ Rihana said shakily, fumbling with her words.

  ‘I haven’t told you my name yet. Well, I’m the doctor on duty here. Do you know what happened to the lady?’

  ‘I . . . well . . . Is she in safe hands?’ Rihana stammered.

  The handsome doctor sighed, and Rihana watched his chest heave. ‘Miss, my name is Saif—Dr Saif Qureshi—with an MS from AIIMS. And you could not have had a better-qualified doctor looking into such a minor case of stitches.’ The doctor sounded annoyed and arrogant.

  ‘Well, can you be a bit more specific, please?’ said a visibly confused Rihana.

  ‘Miss, I don’t have time to explain my credentials or expertise to you. And if you don’t mind, can you let me do my job now?’

  Rihana was a little embarrassed by the doctor’s remark and said, ‘Of course, please don’t let me stop you. But you must know that this isn’t a minor case. When we picked her up, she was lying in a pool of blood.’

  ‘That’s why I’m asking you what happened! It would help to know how she got this wound, so I don’t miss anything while examining her.’

  ‘I’m not so sure. She told us she fell from the stairs,’ Rihana said matter-of-factly, as she knew from experience that Nandini would recant and deny all the accusations to protect her alcoholic husband, Harish.

  ‘Well, you can ask for me at the reception if you need anything,’ said Saif and turned around to leave.


  Rihana could hear her heart pounding as he walked away. She was swooning over this man ‘Err, Saif! I’m Rihana . . . Miss Rihana,’ she deliberately repeated, attempting to give out all the right signals she could think of in that situation, even though she personally hated using any titles or last names.

  ‘Could I please have your mobile number in case of any emergency?’ she added, not wanting to miss out on an opportunity. Tiger was making it impossible for Kanhaiya to hold him any longer, so he barged into the room, right in the middle of Rihana’s tête-à-tête with Dr Saif.

  ‘You won’t need my number, as my staff will take good care. Plus I might or might not be on duty, so I would advise you to get in touch with the hospital directly if you need any help.’ Rihana’s face shrunk at his curt reply.

  Looking at Rihana’s expression change from vibrant to puppy-like, he took out his visiting card, with his mobile number on it, and handed it over to Rihana, saying, ‘Only in case of emergencies! And remember, dogs are not allowed in the hospital.’

  Rihana looked at the visiting card, smiled at her luck and watched him leave with wistful eyes.

  Zara was the yin to Rihana’s yang. She rapped Rihana’s head lightly while rolling her eyes and hissed, ‘If you’ve finished ogling and salivating over the doctor, can we leave? I am very sleepy!’

  Rihana turned around and saw Zara’s already-half-shut eyes. She wondered how such a pretty woman had ended up an insomniac because of some godforsaken people in the world. She patted her cheek lovingly and said, ‘Wait a minute, darling. I need to talk to Nandini.’

  Rihana then turned to Kanhaiya and instructed him, ‘Get the car out and take Tiger with you. We’ll join you in a moment.’

  Then she went straight to Nandini’s bed, sat beside her and asked, ‘What’s wrong with you, Nandini? Why do you want to stay with this retard for the rest of your life? Do you want to keep getting clobbered? This is not even a stand-alone incident—he always comes home drunk and beats you black and blue. Even when you or Gudiya keep silent about it, I can still see all those marks on your arms and face, you know; and don’t forget that the cameras are right in front of your room too. And by not telling the authorities or us that your husband is mistreating you, you’re becoming your own enemy. You have a young girl at home. What are you teaching her? She will never learn to stand up for herself if you keep setting the wrong example.’