Threads of fate

Dinner with Discomfort

As the car pulled up in front of their father's house, Aahan turned to Rysa with a stern expression, his eyes fixed on her in the rearview mirror.

"Remember, Rysa, I expect you to behave yourself tonight. No sulking, no attitude. I want words from you, not just nods. Understand?" he warned, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Rysa swallowed nervously, feeling the weight of his expectations pressing down on her. She nodded silently, unable to meet his gaze as a knot formed in her stomach.

Aahan sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Rysa, I mean it. This dinner is important, and I need you to be present both physically and mentally. Can you promise me that?"

Rysa hesitated for a moment before finally finding her voice. "I'll try, Bhaiya," she replied softly, her words barely audible over the hum of the engine.

Aahan nodded, seemingly satisfied with her response. "Good. That's all I ask."

With a heavy heart, Rysa followed her brothers out of the car and up the path to their father's front door. The familiar sense of apprehension settled over her like a shroud as they entered the house, the air thick with tension.

Their father greeted them with a forced smile, his eyes flickering over Rysa with thinly veiled disapproval. "Ah, Rysa, so good of you to join us," he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm. "I trust you've been keeping yourself out of trouble?"

Rysa forced a tight-lipped smile, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She nodded silently, her heart sinking at the familiar sting of her father's words.

Aahan shot her a warning glance, his eyes narrowing in disapproval. "Rysa, Dad asked you a question. He wants words from you, not just nods," he reminded her, his tone firm.

Rysa swallowed back her frustration, forcing herself to speak despite the lump forming in her throat. "I've been fine, Dad. School's been...good," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Their father nodded, seemingly satisfied with her response. "Good to hear, Rysa. Now, let's sit down and catch up, shall we?"

Throughout the evening, Rysa did her best to participate in the family conversation, but her father's pointed remarks continued to weigh heavily on her mind. Each comment felt like a dagger to her heart, chipping away at her already fragile sense of self-worth.

Meanwhile, Rudra couldn't resist the opportunity to tease his sister. "Hey Rysa, remember that time you spilled juice all over yourself at Dad's fancy dinner party?" he grinned, enjoying her discomfort.

Rysa's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she shot her brother a glare. "Shut up, Rudra. That wasn't funny," she muttered under her breath.

Their father chuckled at Rudra's comment, adding fuel to the fire. "Oh yes, I remember that. You always did have a knack for making a mess of things, Rysa," he remarked, his tone patronizing.

Rysa bit her lip, fighting back tears as she struggled to maintain her composure. The weight of her father's disapproval bore down on her like a heavy burden, threatening to crush her spirit.

But as the night wore on and the conversation drifted to other topics, Rysa found herself retreating further into herself, her smile growing more forced with each passing moment. She longed to escape the suffocating atmosphere of her father's home, to flee from the constant reminders of her perceived shortcomings.

But as the evening drew to a close and it was time to leave, Rysa couldn't shake the feeling of sadness that lingered in her heart. Despite her best efforts to hide her true feelings, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever be able to earn her father's approval, or if she would always be destined to disappoint him.

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