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Chapter 30 - My Angel

"We met Rupali just for their reception," Alan's grandmother confided in Fiza, her voice carrying a mix of regret and longing. "Nice girl. But Jacobite. From Goa."

Fiza smiled, listening attentively to the tales of Alan's brother's wedding. "Got married in the US. We asked her to be baptized, but she was very stubborn. We had a big reception for them here when they came. Poor Alex's Amma and Achan didn't get to attend their son's wedding."

"I'm sorry," said Fiza, wondering where this conversation was leading. She felt awkward being alone with Alan's grandmother, whom she had only met the previous night. Nonetheless, she had sought her out in Alan's brother's room and engaged in conversation. She listened attentively, seeking to understand the depths of Alan's family dynamics.

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything, did you?" Alan's grandmother asked Fiza. Fiza shook her head in response. Alan's grandmother leaned in, drawing closer to Fiza. "It was a lot of embarrassment for the family. We are reputable people; we have to maintain an image. I have only one son, Alex already shamed us and Alan is also carrying the family name," she stated, inching closer to her point.

Just then, Alan's mother entered the room, catching fragments of the conversation. She intervened, defending her son and his choices with a mix of compassion and frustration.

"Amma," she said. "Only you are embarrassed. We love Rupali. Everyone has already moved on,"

"Ameena, you don't know what they say behind your back. I have heard it. They claim that you raise your sons as loose characters, bringing shame to the family," his grandmother spat venomously. Fiza couldn't help but notice the hurt etched on Alan's mother's face, a poignant reminder of the underlying tensions within the family.

Fiza sought a way to escape from the clutches of the persistent old woman, but Alan's grandmother showed no signs of relenting. "I heard you helped Alan through some tough times. He's okay now. Your work is done," she remarked, interfering in a way that shocked Fiza. She realized that her own family might react similarly. Where was Alan when she needed him?

"We are friends, Ammachi. Friends don't care about religion," Fiza replied, trying to stand her ground. The grandmother's gaze turned sharp. "That boy loves you. Don't say 'friends' and break his heart. If you care about him, let him go. Give him a chance to..."

At that moment, Alan entered the room, his face beaming with a smile. His heart warmed at the sight of Fiza spending time with his family. Unaware of the conversation that had transpired, he sat next to Fiza and playfully ran his fingers through her hair.

Fiza instinctively moved away, shocked by his familiarity in front of his grandmother. However, the look in his eyes was filled with adoration. "So, you met my angel, Ammachi?" he asked his grandmother, his voice brimming with affection. For once, the grandmother was left speechless.

"God sent Fiza to me, Ammachi," Alan explained. "To save me."

Fiza gazed at him, her eyes moist with emotion. "She is everything to me," Alan's words touched her deeply. It was deeper than he had ever expressed directly to her. Her heart raced as he placed his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

Alan's grandmother shook her head disapprovingly. "You're crazy. She's just another girl who has set her sights on you."

"Ammachi! I told you, Fiza doesn't see me that way. She's just...just pure and perfect. She's too good for me. I'll never deserve her," Alan said with utmost sincerity to his grandmother. His broken Malayalam only added to the charm of his words in Fiza's ears.

Alan's grandmother studied him carefully. "So she's like a sister to you?" she inquired curiously. "No," Fiza and Alan replied in unison. They shared a meaningful look and burst into laughter, the connection between them palpable.