Stubborn Love (Volume 2)

Chapter 3

Sia's excitement at her aunt's arrival died down very quickly.

If someone asked her the reason, she probably wouldn't be able to pinpoint the exact moment she started feeling suffocated in her own house.

To think of it, she could recollect a few of these moments...

In the morning, when she had touched her feet, Bhua had quickly skimmed her hand over Sia's head and moved past her with an unusually frosty demeanour. She dismissed it as trivial. Smiling, she settled beside her aunt and father, listening to the elders while savouring the sweets.

Then at one point in the elders' conversation, her aunt had talked about the girl she had chosen for her son. Her aunt had only praised her future daughter-in-law.

Then why did those compliments about a stranger made Sia make up an excuse and sprint to the kitchen? She tried to make sense of the dejection creeping in, standing behind the wall separating the kitchen from the drawing room. What had her aunt said about the girl?

"Manohar I am blessed to have found a girl like Reena. She is beautiful and educated. And when I asked her if she likes Varun, she simply said that her father's wish was her wish!"

But those compliments had nothing to do with Sia, right? Obviously not! Yet, she wasn't so sure about her father's response. "Really? Her parents must have won the world to have a daughter like her."

Sia committed herself to completing many major and minor chores around the house for the remainder of the morning while they continued to gloat about the "perfect" girl.

Her unreasonable bitterness had settled by lunchtime until her aunt remarked to her father, "You have still not taught her to cook?"

That was it. Giddy anticipation soared in Sia as she waited for her father to deliver his usual response - she wouldn't need to cook because she'd be so successful she'd have a team of maids around her. Unreasonable expectation? Maybe. Did she love it whenever her father declared this in her defence? Absolutely!

Only this time, her father said, "Now that you're here, didi, she's all yours. Prep her just like you did with your two daughters."

It was a reasonable response to a reasonable question. There was absolutely no rationale for Sia to feel forsaken, as she did. She was old enough to learn how to cook, and it made sense for her to learn from her aunt. It was silly of Sia to feel as though her father had abandoned her and pushed her into a den of wolves.

With her holiday fate decided at the lunch table, Sia later steeled herself to spend the evening confined within the kitchen walls.

"Go change into something more appropriate for your age. You're not a child anymore," her aunt had said suddenly, glaring at the knee-length nightdress.

"Everyone has their own choice, Bhua." Sia had retorted, the words spilling out before she could stop them, earning a stern glare from her father in response.

Clad in a salwar kameez, with a burning stove in front of her, Sia darted around the kitchen following Bhua's instructions as she struggled to prepare a vegetable curry for dinner. Her aunt made no effort to conceal her exasperation at Sia's limited knowledge of spices and basic recipes.

After dinner, Sia slumped onto the sofa. Her phone beeped, and she eagerly opened a message. It was from Raghav.

Picture of a cute little kitten hiding inside a roll of paper, with only its brown eyes peeking out, made her chuckle. It was his way of calling her out for hiding away and not talking to him all day.