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We reached the station, and I held their bag as I helped them walk out from the bus. Their son-in-law was waiting for them. I handed him the bag, and he smiled, saying ''Thanks.'' I smiled back and made my way to my house.
I realized I can't let everything go worrying about the future, but I also can't hold onto everything just to enjoy the present. There's a balance between the two. What if I take a step now and can't fulfill the promise later? But what if later I regret not taking any step? What if he leaves me in a mess? Or what if he helps me out of the mess? What if I make his life miserable? Or what if I make him the happiest person?
Risk or regret?
Lost in thought, I didn't even realize when I reached my street. There was a car parked in front of my house, which belonged to Dia’s parents. Excitedly, I ran to greet them.
“Hello, Aunty, hello, Uncle,” I greeted them with a hug. Aunty hugged me back warmly. “How are you?” I asked, happy to see my favorite aunty after a while.
“Good, and you?” she replied.
“Same.”
“Where were you?” Uncle asked, his stern expression making me a bit nervous. He had a heavy, long mustache that added to his intimidating aura.
“At her boss' mansion,” Dia responded, folding her arms. I couldn't retort. Technically, she wasn't lying.
“For some work,” I added, providing the incomplete information, although not entirely accurate. They needed to know, but I couldn't confess that I got drunk and did something stupid with my boss.
“Swara, you have to come with her too,” Aunty insisted. I nodded eagerly. Dia's wedding was approaching, and I was excited about the dresses, food, and dancing. “When is she going?” I inquired.
“Just after Diwali,” Dia confirmed. “I've been telling her to come earlier, but never mind, she's too stubborn,” Uncle chuckled while getting up. “Well, I can't come with Di, but I'll join you a little later,” I claimed. I wanted to clarify this earlier, but just after Diwali, there would still be a month left before the wedding, and I couldn't leave my job for a month.
“I mean, I have a lot of work—”
“Yeah, she can't afterall She's my boss's favorite. How can he manage without her for a month?” Dia taunted me. Her words hurt, repeatedly.
“I'm his personal assistant, so yeah, I have a lot of work,” I finished, lowering my gaze. While they continued talking, I remained silent.
After giving Dia some important instructions, her parents prepared to leave. I remained seated as they approached the door. Clutching my dress, I sought something to remember, something to hold onto.
“I need to stop, I need to stop blindly believing,” I murmured. Another realization hit me when Dia's parents said goodbye to me; she closed the door, blocking my way.
