Nidhi, an adopted child, lost her biological parents in a horrific accident at the tender age of four, resulting in the most traumatic experience of her life.
While her father showers her with love, the same cannot be said about her mother. Nidhi pl...
"Pacifying bhai's anger is the most difficult task," Aadarsh remarked.
Vaibhav, engrossed in a call, likely didn't hear our conversation.
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"Don't say that, I'm already very afraid," I murmured.
I didn't know him well, how he would behave when we would be alone, how he would express his anger, whether he would be easy to pacify or too tough.
"Oh, shit, I forgot my laptop glasses," Vaibhav exclaimed, breaking the silence, irritation evident in his voice.
I'm certain his irritation stemmed not only from his misplaced glasses but also from our conversation and his anger.
His words snapped me out of my thoughts. Without a word, I took out his glasses to hand them to him. As I extended my hand, he declined, saying, "Keep them with you; I don't need them right now," his voice held no anger, no smile-just a flat tone that left me feeling disheartened.
At least he could have expressed his anger; it would have made me feel a little less guilty about it.
We arrived at the airport and proceeded to the waiting lounge, where, Ma was already waiting.
Swiftly boarding the flight, we soon landed in Mumbai-the city that never sleeps.
Even this midnight felt like mid-afternoon due to the hustle and bustle at the airport. People were entering and leaving, and perhaps the destinies of those around me mirrored mine - leaving the city of their birth or leaving something behind.
Throughout the journey, Vaibhav remained silent, not uttering a word or glancing in my direction. He was immersed in his laptop, focused on typing something.
During our flight, I yearned to talk to him and offer my apology, but with Ma seated beside me, I hesitated. I didn't want her to be privy to the unfolding issues and the words exchanged with her son - something any mother would likely disapprove of.
Despite the relatively distant seats in business class, the silence surrounding us was enough for our conversation to be overheard by anyone nearby.
We walked out of the airport together, enveloped in a heavy silence, likely due to the early hour. Fatigue was setting in, and even I felt the tug of sleep. Roshni wore a grumpy expression, and when Adarsh placed his hand on her shoulder, she swiftly shrugged him off, shooting him an angry glare.
Vaibhav remained silent, resembling a dormant volcano on the brink of eruption. Despite walking side by side, he avoided glancing at me. I missed his intense gaze, the one that used to send chills down my spine.
As we reached the parking area, two black cars awaited us. In one car, Vaibhav and I sat with Roshni, while in the other, Adarsh and Ma took their seats.
Once again, Vaibhav occupied the front seat, with Roshni and me in the back, further deepening the divide between us.
The pain intensified, and regret consumed me. His anger was palpable, cutting me deeper.
