Hers To Love

Chapter-22

It was a feeling beyond terror. Maybe this would be how I feel when the apocalypse was upon me. A sense of total annihilation of safety I had ever known. My brain was malfunctioning, unable to process what it was seeing and what it's next move should be. 

I felt dissociated. My soul left my body and I could see myself and our parents as though an unrelated observer. There were the parents, sitting on the sofa, their luggage bags still at their feet and staring at Janvi with inscrutable faces. And there was Janvi in her wrinkled white chudidhar sans dupatta (which was still lying somewhere on Arun’s floor) and just fucked hair.

My mother made a sound deep in her throat. It was somewhere between a sob and a growl. She looked so wounded and the feeling was so horrible that it instantly pulled me back into the moment. It made my heart race and my forehead sweat.

“Ma, Dad, I can explain.”

But, could I? What possible reason could there be for me to be in Arun’s room at this hour? And in this state? And how could I explain the state he was in? He was naked as the day he was born and was snoring away peacefully, unaware of the fact that our life was going to shambles just out of his room.

“Let's go to your flat,” my father said, his tone giving away nothing. It was as though something froze in him. I half-wished that he was as expressive as my mother who was staring daggers at me.

The Sahus were not even looking at me. They suddenly found the carpet and the walls more interesting and I was glad of it. I didn't think I could handle another set of disappointed eyes trained on me.

My parents only had a carry on each over their shoulders. They led the way out of Arun's flat and I made my walk of shame behind them. I had never felt so naked and exposed even when I was actually naked with Arun. I wished this was all a nightmare and in a minute I would wake up on Arun's warm chest with no parents waiting for us in the living room.

But the sound of the door closing behind me told me firmly that this was the reality and I had to deal with it. Whether I liked it or not.

To my surprise, my father opened my front door and let us in. I wondered how he had keys to my apartment. Arun must have given them to him when my parents came with me to Delhi a lifetime ago. Did he also give duplicate keys to his parents? How did they get into the apartment without his knowledge? I could ask my parents. They would know. But it felt like an unwise decision to ask my parents anything right now.

As soon as we were inside the house with the door shut behind us, my mother walked into the unused bedroom without taking even a backwards glance at me. It was as though my mere presence was toxic and she couldn't breathe the same air as me. It felt like a sharp knife twisting in my stomach.

I gathered the courage to look at my father but he was staring out the large French windows, not meeting my eyes.

“Dad,” I started. He had always been the easy parent. He was the one who argued with my mother to give me one extra helping of the ice cream. To go on that expensive class trip. To wear that new dress that my mother was saving for a festival. He must listen to me. If he didn't, no one would.

“Go to your room, Janvi,” my father said, still not meeting my eyes. “None of us are in a state to talk clearly. Let me and your mother wrap our heads around this matter. Give us some time.”

I opened my mouth to say something but quickly shut it. What he was saying was reasonable. They needed some time and space and it was understandable. But how could I tell him that I would die a thousand deaths in that duration. I half wished that they both would slap and scold me already so I could be relieved of this dread. But it looked like I was not so lucky. There was still torment left for me.