Fallen Angel

22. Little Vixen

Meher was learning to sleep in her own room.
But the entire house now belonged to her.

Her laughter echoed through the walls... Loud, unapologetic, fierce, full of life and free.

Every corner of the house screamed of her existence. Her soft toys scattered through every room made the entire house her playground.
Nursery rhymes and jingles played all through the day.
Her blabber was a new language of the Oberoi household.

Every moment was now more suffocating for Rahul.

He was just another human for her, just like others. While everyone else picked her up, took her for strolls in the garden, Rahul closed his heart and his senses to her existence.
She would linger behind him and totter with her tiny steps, trying to get his attention. But Rahul would stone his heart and walk away with the speed that the toddler could not keep up with.

In the quiet of the night, his resolve would falter. He would find himself standing by the large crib with his hands tucked in his pockets.
The baby was growing, and so was guilt.

He could not forgive himself.

A moment of fear had cost him all the happiness. Had he shown a bit of courage that night, he would have been holding the boy by now. But the moment to repent was already gone, without a chance to rectify his mistake.

Days were difficult and nights took everything in him to survive the next one.

'Dadda'

An attempt made by her to get his attention while he walked in the house that evening froze him mid step.

His breath caught in his throat. He took a full moment to process what he heard. His gaze snapped to where she was standing by the Ottoman with her toys scattered around.
She clapped at her own achievement and bounced in her place. Her soft curls bounced along. Her little chubby fingers slapped against each other and she giggled with a toothy grin.

"Dadda" She screamed this time in excitement.

Rahul staggered unknowingly. The blabber that was the new foundation of the Oberoi household, shook the walls of his heart. The laptop bag almost slipped from his hands.

A moment of weakness almost engulfed him... Almost.

The little vixen was not done torturing him. She dropped the toy and took a small step towards him. That was it. His stone cold demenor was pushed back in place instinctively.

"Charu!" He called loud enough to startle the toddler, making her stop in her tracks.

Hearing him call her, Charu, who was preparing porridge for Meher, came running to the living room.

His eyes narrowed as his wife came into view.
"Where were you?" He almost snapped.

Charu was taken aback. She blinked flabbergasted.
"I was in the kitchen."

"Why is she unattended? Not even a maid is around." He asked in a stern voice.

Poor Meher took turns to look between the two, unable to sense the tension.
Charu sighed and without another word took a few steps towards the baby. She picked her up and smoothed her hair.

Rahul looked at the interaction but could not miss the fact that even though the baby was in her mother's arms, her gaze was fixated on him, as if she wanted to be held and be walked around.

Rahul gulped hard. Ignoring the guilt gnawing and scrapping his insides, he turned around and walked away to his room.

Charu looked at his reteating figure and then at Meher who was still busy looking at the way he left.

Ashamed of himself, he groaned internally.

He stripped under the cold shower and leg thexwater wash off all the fatigue. He placed his palms flat on the cold tiles of the bathroom and his forehead leaned in towards the wall too. Water cascaded down his body but did nothing to stop the voice that echoed and troubled him.

Her first ever call... Her first ever logical word he had heard...
Instead of basking in the warmth beautiful moment, he had decided to flee.
His mind played and replayed the image of her approaching him..
The big round eyes that looked after him with expectations, now haunted him.

He loathed himself. He loathed his existence.. and most of all, he loathed his ability to bring a life to this world.
It would have been better if he was impotent... Wouldn't it had been best if he never existed?
He wished Rohit was born without a Twin. Many lives would have been different he he never existed at all.

He closed his eyes tight and clenched his fists equally tighter. He did not want the tears yo fall. He would not be able to stop them. He deserved this. He deserved the pain. He deserved to be deprived of love and attention and... Respect too.

He did not know how long he stood there, under the cold running water. The cold seeped in his bones.

A dharp knock on the bathroom door startled him. He took a moment to compose and wrapped a towel around his waist. He unlocked the door and opened it slightly and peeped out to look at the intruder.

Charu blinked at him.

"I have been calling you for sometime now. What is taking so long?"

He rolled his eyes as if to dismiss her.
"Can't I shower in peace?"

His tone was neither friendly nor laced with irritation. Just a simple question, not to blame, but still rhetorical.

She pursed her lips.
"Do you need coffee? Dad has asked for one."

"No. Just get me some rice and curd." He replied.

She narrowed her eyes.
"Dinner is ready, Rahul. I can get the tray of food by the time you change."

"I am tired, Charu. Just some rice, please. I am in no mood to eat."

She was about to protest, but he snapped the door shut, leaving her troubled with his loss oc appetite.

Rahul came out wiping his hair with a clean towel when Charu was setting up his plate. He pursed his lips as he looked at the amount of food in the coffee table.

She glanced at him over her shoulder and focused back on arranging the plates.
"Mom insisted that you join everyone. But I told her you wanted an early dinner. She has made caramal custard, just the way you like."

"Are you not eating with me?" He asked as he sat down on the chair in front of the coffee table.

"I will eat with everyone." She replied.

He held her gaze for a long moment and nodded. Her heart dropped when he picked up the plate and emptied the contents. He served himself a dallop of rice and ate it with a few spons of curd. Everything else, include the custard was untouched. She did not insist and he wordlessly walked to the bed and slipped in the blanket.

A dark moment of the night made him open his eyes and his feet took him to stand infront of the little devil that had captured his world. He refused to acknowledge, but his world was already shaken by the tiny fingers.

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