Leap of Faith

Down the memory lane

"Trisha," Aayan said putting his hands on my shoulders. I tried to keep my tears at bay. I tried telling myself that this was his past and I was his present and, hopefully, his future. It was a past that could have unfolded very differently, but it hadn't. I was here, and Alina wasn't.

"This doesn't mean anything. It is in the past," Aayan assured me in a calming voice.

"I know," I nodded, pressing my lips and looking away from him. I kept the frame where I found it. "These pictures are beautiful."

"Let's go now," he was leading me out of the storeroom. Riya kept behind us. She started to speak, but he stopped her.

"I am going to get rid of these pictures now. They don't mean a thing," Aayan repeated in a controlled voice.

"Okay," I murmured, not wanting to look into his eyes. I stationed myself by the window, trying to appreciate the beauty spread in front of me. The well-cut grass glistened in the bright sunshine, and a soft breeze swayed the meadow in a gentle caress.

A while later, we headed to the dining hall for breakfast. Riya tried to distract me by telling me the history of the house. I kept nodding, only half listening. As we entered the hall, Aayan's mother got off the phone.

"Good morning!" she said in a cheerful voice.

"Morning mother. How did you sleep?" Aayan went and kissed her cheeks.

"Good, now that you are here," she caressed his face and then turned towards me. "You know he hardly spends his time here in Delhi. He doesn't take a break and stay at home."

"It sounds like him," I nodded smiling. The tone of Aayan's mother's voice affirmed her warmth. Maybe there is hope after all.

"Well come all. Let's have breakfast. I've prepared it myself."

"Mom, these look delicious. I had almost forgotten how good you used to cook," Riya said. 

"Yeah. It has been a while since I cooked. Trisha, do you know how to cook?" Mrs Kar asked.

"Yes, all the basics and some. It is my roommate, Shweta who has a passion for cooking," I replied somewhat awkwardly at the mention of Shweta.

"Great. Then we would love to taste one of your dishes if you could cook for us,"  Mrs Kar said smiling.

"Sure. I will, tonight."

"What are all your plans for today? Aayan, have you showed her the whole house?" Mrs Kar directed the question at her son.

"Nope. We'll do that today," he smiled.

"Don't forget to show her your dad's old room. She'll love it," she spoke warmly. 

"Yeah, mom. I will," he promised.

***

"You think your mom likes me?" I asked Aayan climbing the spiral staircase on the way to his bedroom.

"She would be crazy not to like you," he smiled.

"You know how to be charming," I rolled my eyes.

"It's all you, baby," he said pressing my hand in his. "And now, I am going to show you my bedroom."

His eyes shined with pure joy and excitement. He led me through a tall teak wood door on the first landing. The room was white with a large four-poster bed, silk window curtains, and large windows that dazzled with intricate designs along with their arch. The carpet under kissed my feet. 

"You like it?" he asked from behind me. I was touching the walls, drinking in the old British architecture influenced by the Mughal style.

I nodded solemnly making my way to the window. I looked through the window. Once again, I fell in love with this place.