Love Weaves A Way (Slow Updates)

57. It's okay

Hlo darlings

Apologies for being late as always. But I've an important note for you all, please don't ignore it.

A/N- Shivaay's age is changed. It's not 27 but 31. Reason, the past of the mystery man was related to Oberoi family you all know. So I couldn't show that Shivaay's grandfather died just five years ago. It would've made SOMETHING illogical (That something will be revealed below.)

So buckle your seat belts.

ENJOY READING 💕💕💕

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Not having parents or a family is painful. But more painful is when you have parents living somewhere in this world but not with you because you were abandoned, because they didn't want you.

She bore this pain of abandonment for years and years and today, all of a sudden this man appears in front of her, claiming his love for her and his dead wife. How cruel life could be? How shameless can someone be?

(A few minutes ago)

Anika was in the lawn of Oberoi Mansion, happily chatting with the flowers as if they could really hear her. It didn't matter to her if they answered back or not, they were swaying due to the light breeze was more than enough for her to continue.

Dadi and Janvi in an old family friend's family function. Gauri, in the boutique that belongs to the fashion house she works for. Om busy with his painting exhibition. Rudra busy in preparing for his exams, for once serious about his studies. Shivaay in his office to clear all the pending work that he couldn't do without visiting his office in the last two months.

And that left Anika, all alone
Not alone, but only with this canvas and the flowers to listen to her and no one to speak other than herself.

"I'm really scared, you know. That Bagadbilla would do what he's said. If he says I'm to be 'seen' he'll see me for sure. But why can't he just forget it? I can see it in his eyes that he's not forgotten. Or if he doesn't want to forget it, then why can't he get done with it already? Atleast it won't scare me and distract me. Now look at this empty canvas and these ruined ones on the ground. I'm not able to concentrate."

She huffed in annoyance at the lack of concentration, and the lack of the motivation Om or Shivaay could give her to paint. She just threw the paint brush in annoyance, her happy mood spoiled.

Lack of concentration it might be, but the faint sound of the paint brush hitting something soft and someone's movement behind her didn't go unnoticed by her.

She stood up from the high stool she was sitting on and turned around, only to be rooted to the ground. It couldn't be. Just no. After so many hard days in her life, she couldn't bear one more sorrow again.

Standing in front of her was the man she hated with every cell in her body. The reason behind her mother's suicide, the reason she and her Dadi suffered at the hands of her so called Chacha amd Chachi.

Her father.

The distant memory of her father, in a simple and formal shirt, pants, and a tie, was too clear in her mind. But the man in front of her was so different. Old he might have grown, but the expensive suit made him look more handsome.

She still remembers her own jealous glares towards the ladies who would lay their eyes on her papa, and she wouldn't hesitate in wounding her tiny arms round his neck to warn them to stay away.