Ambivalence(Under Editing)

Broken

Aaradhya's POV

I dressed as simply as I could manage, choosing a pastel blue kurti set. The soft cotton fabric was light against my skin, offering me a small measure of comfort in what was otherwise a deeply uncomfortable situation. I had paired it with minimal accessories, opting for a pair of silver jhumkas and flat sandals. I wasn't out to impress anyone. This meeting was for my parents more than it was for me.

The car ride to the venue felt suffocating. My mother had once again set me up on another arranged date, this time with a man named Aman Rathore, a junior officer at NHAI. The prospect of yet another formal encounter made my stomach churn. My fingers nervously fiddled with the edge of my kurti as I watched the city pass by through the window, the bustling streets doing little to calm my growing anxiety.

When I arrived at Furrista Café, I immediately spotted him. Aman was already seated at a small table near the window, his eyes scanning the room before they settled on me. He smiled politely, and I hesitated for a moment before walking over to him. Mumma had sent me his picture before, and in person, he looked just as decent. Short-cropped hair, clean-shaven, a crisp shirt. He seemed well-put-together, the kind of man any family would want for their daughter.

"Hi," I said softly as I sat down, forcing a polite smile onto my lips.

"Hello," Aman replied, his voice kind but careful, like he was just as unsure of how this would go.

The conversation started predictably. Small talk about work, interests, hobbies. He asked me about what I liked to do in my free time, and I answered with the same rehearsed lines I had used on dates before. It wasn't that he was unpleasant—far from it. Aman was nice, polite, even thoughtful in the way he responded. But the weight of these encounters always felt like a ticking clock. I knew my family was counting on this to work out, and that pressure made every question feel like a test I needed to pass.

"Do you like traveling?" he asked, his fingers lightly drumming on the table as he waited for my answer.

"Yeah, I do," I said, offering another small smile, though my heart wasn't in it. "I've always wanted to visit the mountains, maybe trek through Ladakh someday."

Aman's eyes lit up slightly, and he nodded with genuine interest. "That sounds amazing. I've been wanting to go there too."

The waitress appeared at our table, placing our ordered coffees down with a smile. I glanced at the steaming cup in front of me, my fingers automatically reaching for the handle. But something in my chest twisted, an irrational fear gripping me as I stared at the coffee. What if it's drugged? The thought crept in, uninvited, and suddenly my mouth went dry.

I didn't know why I felt this way. Aman seemed perfectly respectable, and yet the anxiety that had been slowly building throughout the date now took hold, tightening its grip. My chest felt heavy, and my hands, once steady, began to tremble slightly. I tried to mask it by gripping the cup more firmly, raising it to my lips, but I couldn't take the sip. The steam brushed against my face, the scent of the brew filling the air, but my body refused to move any further.

What if something's wrong with it? The thought became louder, more insistent. My pulse quickened, thudding in my ears.

"Are you alright?" Aman asked, his brow furrowing with concern as he leaned forward slightly. His voice was calm, but I could feel his eyes on me, searching for a sign of what was wrong.

I forced a smile, trying to shake off the irrational fear that had me in its grip. "Um, yeah... I'm fine. I just need a minute," I said, my voice shaky as I carefully set the cup down. The porcelain clinked softly against the table, but it felt deafening to my strained senses.