How, i Met your Mother!

Part 9

Arnav sat at the head of the conference table, trying to focus on the presentation he was leading, but his thoughts kept drifting, his concentration slipping away. He was usually sharp, composed, and never one to make mistakes, but today was different. He fumbled with his words, mixing up figures, and missing key points that were critical to the meeting. Akash, seated beside him, exchanged a concerned glance with him before discreetly stepping in.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," Akash said, smoothly taking over the presentation. "I'll take it from here. My brother will join us shortly."

Arnav nodded absentmindedly, his mind far away from the conference room. He muttered a quick apology to the clients and excused himself. As he walked out, he felt the weight of his chest tightening, the stress building like a storm.

In the privacy of his cabin, he let out a long, frustrated breath. Running a hand through his hair, he sank into his chair. The guilt, the unease, the sense of being disconnected it was all swirling around him. Without thinking, he picked up his phone and dialed Payal.

"Arnavji?" Payal's voice came through, sounding surprised.

"Payal," he began, his voice thick with tension, "how's Muskaan? Is she alright?"

There was a brief pause on the other end before Payal responded, her voice gentle but confused. "Muskaan? she's fine. You dropped her off at school this morning yourself... How could you forget that?"

Arnav pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing the absurdity of his question. "I.. I'm sorry, Payal. I don't know what I was thinking."

"It's okay," Payal said softly, concern creeping into her voice. "Are you alright, Arnavji? You don't sound like yourself."

"I'm fine," Arnav replied quickly, dismissing her worries. "Just tired, that's all. Sorry to trouble you."

"Arnavji.." Payal began, but before she could say anything more, Arnav cut the call. He couldn't bear to talk about it. Not now. Not with her. His thoughts were already pulling him into a dark place.

He sat there in his office, staring blankly at the wall, the overwhelming guilt gnawing at him. How could I forget something as simple as dropping Muskaan off at school? It was a small thing, but to him, it symbolized something much bigger. Something he had been trying to push away for years.

Seven years.

Seven long years of Muskaan's life that he had missed. He hadn't been there for her first steps, her first words, or any of the moments that mattered. When she needed him the most, he wasn't there. He had shut himself off, drowning in his own pain, pretending that she didn't exist. And now, that guilt was consuming him, tearing him apart bit by bit.

He was lost in the thought of her, his daughter. His Muskaan. The sweet little girl who now had a place in his life, yet he felt like a stranger to her. Every time he looked at her, it was as if she carried the burden of his mistakes, the emptiness he had created by walking away from her life. And now, the thought that something might be wrong with her... it hurt him in ways he couldn't even put into words.

What have I done? he thought, his heart heavy with regret. I abandoned her. I walked away from my own daughter as if she didn't matter. As if she wasn't the most important thing in my life.

He clenched his fists, the self-loathing growing inside him. I should have been there. I should have fought through my own pain and been the father she deserved. Instead, I let my emotions rule me. I distanced myself, pretended she wasn't my responsibility. But she is. She's my daughter. And now, the guilt... it's eating me alive.

He thought of the nights he spent alone, grieving Khushi's loss, consumed by his sorrow. He thought of the countless opportunities he had to reach out, to be there for Muskaan, and yet every time, he turned away. What kind of father does that? he asked himself. I've failed her... I've failed her in every way.