The Six Types of Love

AYUSH

Oh, how I had missed Cincinnati. As we take the last turn into our neighborhood, I see our house. Its majestic high rooves and bright red brick feel like coming back to a palace. The same home that I used to hate returning to when I was younger is now the one I cannot wait to reenter. Just before we pull into the driveway, I see our mailbox that still doesn't have a door on it because I drove my car into it a couple of months ago and then blamed it on our neighbors. I think my parents leave it that way to taunt me. They know.

As soon as the Lex stops, I go inside and hug Muma and Papa. I arrive just as golden hour hits and it bathes our entire house in lively yellows and happy memories. In front of me lies the living room with its beige sectional couch and wooden center table that has been there since Armaan was in school, to the left is the kitchen with its large granite island and a bar with enough alcohol to intoxicate a small army, and in the back of our house is the morning room, my favorite place to write, with its many windows and orange wooden table that is currently catching every ray of sunshine.

My parents and Armaan catch me up to speed on the business and I show them the property I bought. They love it. Since we are all in agreement, we decide to send our VP of Expansion over immediately. While we're strategizing in the living room, Veer, our butler, takes my suitcase and bag upstairs. It never stops being weird having people doing work for us. Especially when they have to wear the signature Rang black T-shirt and blue jeans.

Muma tells me that dinner will be soon. In my spare time, I go up to my room to check if my packages have arrived. I call Armaan to sit with me, but he complains about how much work he has. I force him to bring his tablet and come anyway. While he is furiously typing, he fills me in on how our friends are doing; he also hints that the planning for our birthdays is going well. I told everyone that even though it is my thirtieth, I didn't want anything big but wanted to be surprised. Finally, remembering why I came upstairs in the first place, I decide to open the numerous brown boxes on my nightstand.

The first package I open is Armaan's birthday gift, a basketball that has been signed by his favorite player. He loves it. I had to call in a favor but would do so again in a heartbeat if means seeing the smile on his face one more time. As I continue to rip into my deliveries, I ask Veer to make Armaan and me some coffee as we chat.

The next package is a few special edition novels I ordered. I can't wait to binge-read and subsequently add them to the Khanna Collection. Once it had been decided that Armaan and I would live with Muma and Papa, we made an entire wall in our basement a bookshelf because of how much we all love to read. Even after almost seven years, it is still only three-fourths of the way full. I've made it my mission to fill it. After I place the books on my bed, through order of elimination, I know what is in the box I am about to open next.

The final package is the new Apple Watch. Whenever there is a blue color option, I get it. This time, I also ordered Armaan the red one and Papa the black one. I bring the watches downstairs and the three of us set them up together while eating in the morning room.

"How are Gauri and Anvi?" Muma asks as she pours food into my plate. I take a break from fiddling with my watch to respond.

"They're good. I actually spent the night at Gauri's. We were way too drunk to function, but it was so much fun," I laugh at the memory.

"How is your movie doing?" Papa asks in between bites of his roti and chicken tikka masala.

"Urja told me that it's doing as projected," I tell him.

"Good," He chews. This is his way of saying he's proud of me.

"Did you meet anyone we know in New York?" Armaan asks innocently enough so our parents don't catch on.