Romances are sparked in odd ways,
They say Rags and Riches go together, but what about Normal and Rich? A Typical Indian Girl with a not-so-typical dream. A Lost Dog unites two people who never even knew about each other's existence. Their story is...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I sat in the rear of the Ola cab, absentmindedly tapping my foot, lost in my own thoughts while the radio played softly. It had been over a decade since I had last stepped foot in Bangalore. 13 years to be exact. The previous visit, a week-long affair for my aunt's wedding, hardly qualified as a visit. Unlike that joyful occasion, this one was far from cheerful. Almost a month later, my mother and father separated. Divorce is a taboo topic in the culture here, but in New York, people divorce as easy as ordering overpriced coffees. We drove past the buildings, and the busy city got quieter as we entered a calmer part of Bangalore. The car made a creaking stop, and the driver turned around with a smile, saying, "We're here."
I forced back a smile of my own, this was it.
I handed over the fare to Rajju, this sweet old guy I'd gotten to know – turns out he had a pair of daughters. By night, he steered a taxi through the city's twists and turns, all to fuel his youngest's big dream of donning a doctor's coat someday. And you should've seen the glint in his eyes when he found out I was a doctor, just like my mom. It was almost like he knew he could ask – so he did. He asked if I could lend a hand to his girl's journey, that she wanted to shadow a proper doctor. What was I supposed to do, right? Say no to this sweetheart? I nodded, locking in my promise.
Then, as if the air suddenly shifted, he asked about my dad. That's when the words sort of hung there, caught in the breeze we conjured. Conversation? Done – just like that.
The apartment loomed over me, and Rajju, bless his heart, wouldn't even hear the idea of me handling the heavy luggage. A security guard in the small booth was startled by the sound of a car honking behind me. A dark Mercedes slipped out from the darkness from behind Rajju's taxi, and the car's headlights obnoxiously flashed directly into my eyes blocking out view of anything. Instinctively, I turned around. The gate screeched open and the car drove past me, the door of the Mercedes grazed my thigh, and my heart sputtered. The driver was an ass.
After Rajju's insisting on exchanging numbers so that he could invite me to his house for a cup of chai, and a tiring conversation with the guard trying to prove that I wasn't trying to break in and that I had been invited to come over. Why on earth would I break into my father's apartment?
Security had at least the shame to send someone to help with the suitcases, my fingers curling around the handles. The button with the arrow pointing up on the elevator glowed and my knuckles were white from the nerves fluttering through me. A low pit formed in my stomach and anxiety wrapped all over me, what exactly does one have to say to their father they haven't spoken to in seven years? A how are you doing doesn't seem appropriate for the situation. And after what felt like ages, the elevator doors slid open.
Inside stood a guy, tall and lanky, leaning against the railing. A mask covered half of his face and a cap tugged over his head. The only visible feature is those dark eyes. Eyes that were glued to his phone. But something else caught my attention, the logo of Mercedes on his car key. This was the guy with the charm of a rat. His throat cleared, snapping me from my irritation. I'd been standing there for a solid minute staring at his hand.
I could practically feel his coal-colored eyes watching me when I loaded the suitcases in. The guard had run off after pushing the suitcases into the elevator. My floor was first, it took me another forty seconds to offload the suitcases and once again he watched. My body twitched with the impulse to turn around and see if he was watching, and I did.
He was.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I reached over and flipped him off. I caught the slight widening of his eyes before I turned away and walked over to the door. The moment I stepped inside of that house, I'd be making a choice. A choice to leave behind the comfortable life of New York. I didn't know if I wanted that, but I knew I didn't want New York. What's life without the occasional existence-changing and regretting drama?
With that cheerful thought, I rang the doorbell. I hear shuffling, and a minute of silence. Panic clawed up my throat, had he fallen? hurt himself?
And the door swung up, his frail form appearing. "I was wondering if you were going to leave your dying father waiting, Rhea. About time you showed up."
➽───────────────❥
Ria Speaks!! We've started once again, and I'm hoping my writing styles improved but here's a chapter because I missed you guys. The more you guys interact with the story, the more I'm happy to talk to you guys!
