Wrong Side Of The Bed

38 | daddy issues.

CHRISTIAN'S P.O.V

I WAS BLOODY NERVOUS. And there were two causes for that. One, Walter's Baba was staring at me with his imposing-attorney look that made me want to melt into a puddle of gooey matter and never see the light of the day again. Two, Walter's hand was on my knee.

I should have seen this coming, yet I didn't. Of course Jannat's Baba noticed the change in air right away — he was one of the best corporate lawyers in the city, for God's sake! Reading body languages and movements was what he got paid for, anyway.

I swallowed thickly. "We have been dating for quite some time now. We both admitted our feelings for each other on the day we took a trip to the… vacation house."

"I knew leaving them alone was a bad idea," Mr. Roy said, shaking his head as from beside him, Mr. Walter seemed to be enjoying the interrogation, mirth in his eyes. He turned to my mum.

"I hope you don't mind my husband striking up this interrogation all of a sudden," Mr. Walter said, nodding at my mum who aptly put a piece of kabab in her mouth. She shook her head.

"Why would I mind that? I'm quite enjoying this in fact."

My own mother, sitting beside me, betrayed me and stabbed me in the back. Ouch. Walter's hand squeezed my knee underneath the table.

"So," Mr. Roy said, clearing his throat. He had set down his fork and spoon and I knew I was truly fucked. "You are dating my daughter."

The shaking of my leg got more vigorous. Walter's grip on my leg didn't waver.

"Yes sir," I said in a tone that I usually reserved especially for the debates — my clear, leveled voice that often led the other conversationalist into thinking that I had all my shit under control in the conversation. Fooling Mr. Roy was another case entirely. "You're right. I am dating your daughter."

Mr. Roy seemed to appreciate my use of the word sir. Okay, so we weren't going to be calling each other dad and son anytime soon, then. "So, what do you like about my daughter?"

Walter's hand slid up and resided on my thigh now. I stiffened ever so subtly, snaking in one hand underneath the table to clamp down on Walter's, preventing hers from sliding up any further as I held it in place in a thick, vice-like grip. From the corner of my eye, I saw Walter bite down on the grin that threatened to spill out of her lips as I tried to appear as unfazed as possible. 

"That is a very hard question to answer, sir, I'll be honest," I said. Walter tried to free a finger from my grasp, but my only response was to tighten my hold on her hand. "There are so many things I like about Jannat, it's hard to keep track. But I'd say the first thing about her that captivated me was her unrelenting assertion regarding things she is passionate about."

"Really?" Mr. Roy inquired, leaning over the table now, his arms crossed. "And what type of things might you be insinuating?"

Walter, the bane of my existence, gave my leg a suggestive squeeze. I didn't let go of her palm, but moved my foot and kicked hers. "Her love for all things fashion. Her ruthlessness when it comes to debating. Her enthusiasm while watching football — I am fond of it all, sir. I am very fond of everything about her — quite fervently, if I must say so." A pause. "I am even fond of her violent tendencies."

That drew out a hearty laugh from Mr. Walter. He keeled over the table, a steak knife in his hand as he rested his free hand on his chest, trying to contain his laughter. "This boy," Mr. Walter said, wheezing. "This boy really just said that he likes Jannat's violent tendencies."

"Behave, dear," Mr. Roy said, turning towards his husband but I didn't miss the small smile that curled up at the edges of his lips. I let out a long breath. Looks like I was going on the right path so far.