Along the Lines of Love | ✓

Chapter 71 : Hurt & Heal

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tujhse hi to mili hai rahat

tu hi to meri hai chahat

tujhse hi to judi zindagi

♪

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"Hello?"

"Hello, Sharanya?" Nikhil spoke as soon as he heard her voice.

"Hi, I just wanted to tell you that I am planning to go home from work."

"All okay?" Nikhil asked, sitting back on his chair.

"Yes, I just felt like going home."

"Oh, okay. Of course. Uh, you will stay the night or should I come pick you up?"

"Er, you...actually, I will call and let you know. Is that okay?"

"Yes, that's okay. Sharanya," He paused, "everything is fine right?"

"Yes, just wanted to meet them."

"Alright. Do you want me to send Mohan? He will drop you."

"No, that won't be necessary. I will manage."

"If you say so."

"See you late then, bye!"

"Bye."

Nikhil placed his phone down on his desk. He wondered why did she want to suddenly visit her home. Maybe she just missed her family. He brushed off the curiosity and focused back on his screen.

* * *

Sharanya was pissed at her brother. She hadn't cared to return the call. The Landlord of the flat had called back about the renewal of the rental agreement. She had bought some time from him.

She reached her house by six. Her finger pressed the switch, to ring the doorbell. She knelt down to straighten the doormat. Her eyes falling on the dustbin placed aside. She sighed watching the mosquitoes flying over it.

"O.M.G Di!" She heard a squeal as soon as the door opened and was soon engulfed in a hug.

"Easy Akshu. Why is the dustbin still out?"

"Ugh, it is Paa's duty to pick it up. But he never does." Akshaya complained, picking it up and entering behind Sharanya.

Sharanya ran a gaze around the living room. The cushions were all stacked on one edge of the sofa. There were tea strains on the table that had no one had bothered to wipe. A bunch of newspapers were rolled together and thrown on the single-seater sofa. Next to the sofa were his father's walking shoes.

If the living room was like this, she didn't even want to see the kitchen and Akshaya's room.

"Why does the house look like this?" Sharanya spoke, placing her bag on the sofa, she picked up the newspapers in one hand and the pair of shoes in another. She opened the closet on the seat made by the door, and stacked the newspaper in. She then turned to open the shoe rack and placed the shoes there.

"Sharanya!" She heard her father's surprised voice as he approached her with open arms. She hugged him with a smile.

"Finally you miss us, huh?"

"At least I do. You all don't even miss me."

"You don't even know anything. I miss you at every breakfast, lunch and dinner time. Please teach Akshaya how to cook. The rotis she makes are like harden pizza crusts. And don't even make me talk of the sambar.."