8

31.4K 1.8K 29
                                    

∞Echoes of memories

Aradhaya Singh Chauhan

"How are you, Dhaya?"

His warm, minty breath fell on my nose as his well-built body tilted toward me, while his hand had my wrist wrapped around. His eyes traced my face and settled on my lips, making my breath hitch in my throat. I twisted my hand to get out of his hold, but his soft grip tightened, and he pulled me closer. This closeness was doing me no good; feeling him this close to me after all this time was arousing the same nostalgic tingling sensations in my stomach. Everything that brought me solace at that time was now making my blood boil. He was dressed in a cream kurta, with his arms folded, flexing his veiny forearms. The kurta hugged his biceps perfectly. I gulped the lump that constricted my throat, trying not to breathe so I could avoid inhaling the same woody cologne. His forefinger touched my chin, lifting it up to meet his gaze. "How are you, Dhaya?" My insides burned at the words, especially the name. "It's Aradhaya, and what are you doing, Mr. Chauhan? Let go of my hand!" My voice came out raspy as I could barely breathe in his presence.

Wiggling to get out of his hold, his grip tightened further, making me wince as my bracelet grazed the skin of my wrist. He released my hand in a second and caressed my wrist. Seizing the chance, I recoiled my hand and rubbed my wrist. "Seven years, Dhaya..." His words were left hanging as I walked away, but much to my dismay, this man was as stubborn as ever. "I am talking," he hissed, making me glare at his audacity. "And I don't want to listen."

"At least once, please." I slipped out of his hold, composing myself while his pleading eyes trailed over my face. "Who are you to talk to me?" His eyebrows creased at my words. When he tried to hold my hand again, I took a few steps back. "I intend to create no drama at this wedding, and I hope you understand this one thing. Keep your distance from me. I don't know you, and I don't want that to change." I walked away with my final words burning my tongue.

"Why is he here, Mahadev?" Tears streamed down my face after my umpteenth attempt to control them. He couldn't stand there before me, looking at me like everything was as normal as ever between us. I gripped my mother's clutch in my hand, tightening it near my chest to ease the pain, but it wasn't helping. Why, Mahadev? Why, after all this time, when he stood before me, was his proximity killing me? All I wanted was to hide myself in his arms and cry my heart out. To complain to him, to question him about why he broke my heart. Why did he do that to me?

I gasped for air as panic ran through my veins, the flashes of the incident seven years ago flashing before my eyes. I could barely breathe. Not now, Mahadev, everyone is around. Please, not now. I tried to control my breathing as taught by my therapist, but nothing seemed to work until his words fell on my ears. "Breathe, Dhaya." I had my eyes shut as I tried to recollect myself. His whispers were soft as he repeatedly reminded me to breathe in and out. After a few minutes, I heard footsteps approaching. I shot open my eyes to see no one there, only Yug bhai walking toward me. I quickly wiped my face to leave no trace of my crying. I looked around to see no trace of him. Thank God he wasn't there. The last thing I wanted was for my brothers to see him with me. They're not orthodox, but they're way too overprotective.

"Are you crying?" Yug bhai's suspicious gaze settled on my face, as if he was searching for something but had no idea what. "No!"

"Your eyes say otherwise." I tried to think of an excuse. "Something just went into my eyes, and I rubbed them. Do I look terrible?" He chuckled at my last words. "You always look terrible." I smiled at his words, believing that he bought my lie. I hate lying to any of them because I always end up getting caught, as they all know me way too well. "Whatever. I'm going to give Maa her clutch." I walked beside him while he followed me, complaining about how much he hates weddings in the summers. According to him, summers are only for enjoying at the pool all day with no hectic work schedules.

The Moon to my nightWhere stories live. Discover now