𝐀 𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞

•Chapter~23°

No one notices your sadness until it turns into Anger, and then you're the BAD person.

*Added an extra scene*

Arjun's POV

The numerous and divergent office paper works were scattered on all over my desk and I was closely scrutinizing them under the radiating light of table lamp in my study room.

I always plump for doing my crucial work in darkness as I like the darkness. There's something to the feeling of not knowing my pernicious surrounding, not seeing the colour of things as they appear, but as they truly are. There's something unspoken about the dark. Something I can never quite put words to, something terrifying yet beautiful.

The sound of a phone ringing abruptly captured my whole attention, and I let out a deep, frustrated sigh because I loathe it with a passion when someone interrupts and diverts me from my office work.

I peeked a glance at the phone and stopped keyboarding and wetted my chapped lips in edginess as he was none but my own father as I've a father but never had a dad.

I do not despise him. I've just lost all respect for him and have nothing to say to him anymore. He went around living his life without a care of his children well being. All he ever cared about his band of notes or mindless opinions that were held about him by others.

I was just a puppet in his business schemes and a pawn in his deceitful games because raising children is what makes a person a father, not just having children, but he chose to walk away.

Every time I was around him, I felt like I was standing on the edge of a terrifying ocean, and that I would drown at any moment from the wrathful waves.

I eventually acknowledged the call and took a long slow breath, inhaling deeply and felt the heaviness in the chest.

"Oh, Arjun, how are things going in your business?" Even though his words were rapacious, his aged voice sounded sugarcoated.

After a pause I sharply answered, "Perfect."

"Don't you think that you should pay visit somewhere with your wife as Media, tycoons, people without a shadow of uncertainty will do spiteful talk about you". Too traditional and conservative to say that, he remarked, and I could hear the anger piercing his voice.

"Someone's else opinion aren't my problem".

My tone was icy each word delivered with a detached calmness, a frozen lake of indifference that reflected no emotion, no concern, no care for the opinions that others might hold.

"You might not care what others personally thinks of you, but reputation is everything in business. How could you possibly manage your business affairs if you can not even manage your personal life?" He hit a question with a tint of anger on me but I chose to gave no response as no response is a response.

"If there isn't something worthy to exchange views, then excuse me" I replied, my voice low and calm.

"Arjun I hope your wife is staying at the home like a housewife, not going outside to teach in some random school, spreading her feminist wings."

And the calmness that had been my shield for so long shattered in an instant, like delicate glass splintering under the pressure of a sudden, jarring blow and in the shards of that shattered calmness, an emotion that had disappeared for my father from past years awakened.

It was anger a raw, unbridled anger that surged through my veins like liquid fire because of the choice of his words for her.

Because I had long ago made it clear to my wife on the first day of our marriage that my role in her life is to grant the freedom- not permission.