Dr Meera Saravana has been on the run for the last ten years due to a fatal misunderstanding. She ends up in New York, hoping that maybe this time everything will work out. But that's turning out to be impossible the more she gets involved with the...
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I stood with my mother and sister as they greeted guests. I couldn't focus at all.
It was a familiar scene from last year, only this time I felt more anxious than bored. Anya must've caught the smiling slipping on my face. She nudged me with her elbow softly. I glanced down at her, silently asking what she wanted. She just gave me a mischievous grin instead.
Anya nudged me with her elbow, grinning at my lost expression. "Something on your mind, Ivan?"
I looked away, adjusting my tie. "No."
"I think you mean someone, Anya," Mom said. She glanced over at me with the same grin Anya had sported earlier.
It was almost eerie how Anya shared so many similarities with her.
I groaned, knowing what was going to come next. "Not you too."
"Oh, please. Ivan, I'm your mother. Dr Saravana—sorry, wait—Meera is one of the best things that happened to you. You have no idea how happy I am that I'll be seeing her more."
I ignored the pointed look my mother was giving me. She liked Meera, more than any of my exes. And now I was wondering if she was going to refer me the family ring...again.
"You will. She's not going anywhere."
"So...does that mean you still want the ring?"
"Mom!"
"I'm just kidding, Ivan. Ah, to be young and in love." She sighed, smiling. "I remember when your father and I first met. He bought a painting and called it the most ugliest thing he's ever seen and—"
"—And you threw champagne on his fancy suit because that was your painting." Anya finished. "We know, mom. We've heard this a million times."
Mom rolled her eyes. "Of course, it wasn't as rose tinted as you think. Your father was there to smuggle money in said painting but still, it's not the strangest way to meet your future husband. It could've been worse."
Anya glanced at me. I glared back, warning her not to do it. "Well," she said, smirking. "You could be delirious with blood loss and call someone beautiful and the ideal woman."
"Anya, please," I sighed, scrubbing my face with my hand. "Have mercy on me."
Mom patted my back. "That's quite sweet."
"It's not." I said. "I was embarrassed to even look at her after that."
"Oh. don't be, Ivan." She laid her hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. "I'm sure she was flattered that a handsome man called her beautiful."
"I'm sure you can ask her all about it when she gets here."
Mother beamed. "I do look forward to seeing her again." She looked behind her to see the next round of attendees entering. "I'll tell you what. You've have a rough couple of months, why don't you relax and enjoy the night. Leave this to me."
