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Chapter 29 - Ammachi

Silence followed, thick with unspoken sentiments and unfulfilled desires. Fiza's response, delivered with a fragile vulnerability, echoed his sentiment; "Me too."

Fiza's footsteps echoed as she made her way to Alan after their clinicals, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. She couldn't help but smile as she locked eyes with him, and in an instant, he pulled her into a tight embrace. The warmth of his body against hers brought a sense of comfort and familiarity, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

Settling down at the library to study, their gazes lingered on each other, filled with unspoken words and unexplored emotions. She was determined to express her love to him, regardless of his response, knowing deep down that he felt the same way.

Alan took Fiza out to dinner that night, insisting on treating her. Fiza couldn't help but playfully tease him, saying, "That's not very feminist of you."

Chuckling, Alan responded, hinting at his income from his modeling side gig, "Well, since only I am earning at the moment..."

Throughout the evening, their conversation danced around lighthearted topics, carefully avoiding the subject that both of them yearned to explore. They knew that the time would come to delve into their feelings, but for now, they wanted to savor the moments of togetherness, building up the courage to bare their souls.

As they arrived at Alan's house, they were greeted by the presence of his grandmother, whose expression tightened at the sight of Fiza. Alan's mother, sensing the tension, warned him discreetly.

Curious, Alan's grandmother addressed Fiza in Malayalam, asking, "Who is this?"

"Alan's friend," his mother responded.

"Your friend is very pretty, Alan," she commented in Malayalam, and Fiza smiled. "Let me see you," she motioned with her hand. Fiza went and kneeled in front of her, allowing his grandmother to examine her. "Good. Good. But is she Catholic?" she enquired.

"Ammachi!" Alan exclaimed, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement. His grandmother continued, "Your brother married a Jacobite, and you know they haven't even baptized their baby," shaking her head in disapproval.

"Ammachi, Fiza is my friend. And she understands Malayalam," Alan warned, trying to steer the conversation away from potential complications.

"Oh? Are you Malayali?" his grandmother asked in their native language.

"Yes," Fiza replied. "Rupali isn't even a Malayali," she said, referring to Alan's sister-in-law.

Fiza laughed, wanting to make a positive impression. "I'm fluent," she assured them.

Alan's mother shook her head, emphasizing, "It doesn't matter, she is just a friend."

"Such a good friend that she is staying here for the night?" his grandmother inquired suspiciously, her tone filled with humor. "No, you are stupid or you are covering for him," she said to Alan's mother, chuckling. "Such a pretty friend. Are you Catholic?" she asked Fiza once again.

Fiza shook her head, her response clear. "But do you accept Jesus as your savior?" his grandmother continued, wanting to delve into matters of faith.

Before Fiza could respond, Alan stepped in, declaring, "I'm not marrying Fiza, okay? She is Muslim and already engaged to someone else."

Alan's words cut through Fiza's heart like a sharp blade. His response not only extinguished the hope that had blossomed within her but also shattered the fantasy she had nurtured of Alan finally wanting her as his forever. His declaration was a stark reminder of the boundaries they could never fully cross. If he felt anything at all for her, she realized, it would just culminate in a fling followed by a painful break up.