Silent Love

| 29 |

Sidharth

“You’re in a very delightful mood this morning.” My mother gazed up from the brim of her tea-cup to pass on an amused smile. “Do you want to share the happy news?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” I shrugged in a nonchalance but smirked back at her nonetheless.

“Oh, of course, you know what I’m talking about,” She set aside her cup and leaned in eagerly.

“Truly, I don’t.”

“Is it that girl then?”

Busted.

“She’s got a name, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. So it is about her, isn’t it?”

“Mom, leave me alone. Let me enjoy my tea in peace. I’ve had to deal with a terrible migraine last night.”

“Quit lying to my face, Sid. You look more peaceful and healthy than I’ve ever seen you before.” She scoffed and leaned back to fold her arms across her chest. Narrowing her eyes at me, she gave me an accusing look, “Are you in love with her?”

The sip of the hot tea I’d taken just milliseconds before she said those words had ultimately sent me into a round of choking and I was forced
to put aside the teacup. “Mom!” I scolded her for having caught me off guard like that and rubbed the pad of my thumb over my lips.

“Oh, my God..” She sighed in surprise and my eyes shot up to her in a warning.

“No, don’t you dare..”

“You’re in love, Sidharth! My son is in love!” In the beginning, she looked like she had the biggest fit of her life, and it was only when a gleam of twinkle danced on her face that I realized that she was rather overwhelmed with it, in a good way.

“I’m not in love with her, Mom.”

“You are!” She insisted a huge grin was now forming on her face in delight. “Any blind fool can see it. It’s quite evident in your eyes, Sidharth. You’re in love with her.”

Was I?

Of course, not. My mother was being dramatic, as usual. I’d know if I were in love with Shehnaaz right? Of course, I’d know.

I mean, there was no reason for me to believe so either. Isn’t watching her while she sleeps, mumbling to her when she’s unconscious, experiencing a small fear in the pit of my stomach every time she came home late and believing that I couldn’t survive if I ever lost her very normal to feel? She was my wife, of course, I’d feel all those things, wouldn’t I?

None of them necessarily meant I was in love with her. I can’t be in love with her already. It’s too soon. She had not even declared her feelings for me yet, that’s enough reason for me to be not in love with her. That would create such an imbalance. I couldn’t handle another rejection. I was clearly overthinking it. I was not in love with her. I can’t be.

There is no way in hell she’d accept these feelings of mine, I can’t keep them when I know I'll eventually be disappointed. No, I can’t be thinking about this. Not right now. I had to set my mothers notions straight.

"I can't be in love with her, Mom."

That silenced her. A knit had already formed between her brows when I dared to look into her eyes, clearly depicting that the perplexity was eating her alive. "Are you afraid of rejection?"

“Probably.”

“Well, you won't know that until you confess to her, Sidharth."

"She won't love me. I know it."