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I wore my sunglasses as I got out of the car. I turned on my heel towards the restaurant where I’m meeting Mr. and Mrs. Mehra.
Or, you could say, my parents. The more I try to avoid them, the more they try to be near me.
And today, I don’t know what bomb they’re going to drop because whenever I have a conversation with them, they give me an unexpected surprise. Let’s see what it is today.
I saw them and had a strange feeling in my stomach, like it was telling me, Tara, just don’t go to them.
But I took a deep breath and walked towards their table.
"Oh, you're here, Tara," said Mrs. Anita Mehra in a fake tone. I ignored it and sat down next to them.
"Tara, you're late again," my father, Mr. Dev Mehra, said, showing his disappointment.
"I had something more important to do," I replied coldly.
"It’s been a month since you came back to India, but you still haven’t shifted to our home. How long will we meet like strangers?" my father said with a doleful face.
My face darkened at their words. "I'm already at my home, da—" I stopped. "Mr. Mehra," I continued.
"Beta, how long will you stay upset with your own parents? Let’s forget the past and start fresh," Mrs. Mehra said with a hopeless expression.
"This is your ‘important’ talk with me?" I complained. "Let me know because I have some real important work to do," I added, changing the subject.
"No, no, dear. We have something important to tell you... well, actually, ask you," my father said, the hesitation clear on his face.
"That’s why we called you here today," he added.
I raised an eyebrow, gesturing for them to continue.
"Actually, we want you to..." he hesitated.
"We want you to get married," Mrs. Mehra completed the sentence.
