An Inconvenient Flame

Chapter 42

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I'm rummaging through my clothes, searching for a file, last time I kept it somewhere here in rush.

And just when I think I found it, my fingers brush against something smooth and familiar. I pull it out only to find an old photo album.

Curious, I sit on the couch, resting the album on my lap. A bit unease taking over my heart.

And flip the cover open, unsure.

The first page had the pictures of me as a chubby-cheeked toddler, grinning widely with chocolate smeared all over my face.

How was I so happy back then? Or were they the very few moments I actually was.

I turn the page. There's the image of my mother, her face has a smile as she holds me as a baby, my tiny body cradled in her arms.

My fingers caress her face, wishing I could reach into the photograph and feel her warmth once more. To feel the comfort I never had.

I close my eyes for a moment. Only if it had been the same.

It's exhausting.

Turning the page, I see more of the similar photos. Everyone together, dad mom my brother. They're all smiles. All of them except me.

I'm standing in the corner looking at my brother in my mother's arms.

I feel a twinge of envy.

As I continue flipping through the album, a pattern emerges - the further I go, the fewer photos

I find of myself. It's as if I faded out the picture as I grew older. I'm left with only my brother's smiling face, a constant reminder of my own isolation, waiting for her attention.

My fingers tremble as I turn the final page, met with nothing but empty white space.

I clench my jaw, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over.

I want to throw the album against the wall but I don't instaed I clutch it against my chest.

My breath comes in ragged gasps as the memories of my childhood crashes down on me.

The isolation, the longing, the deep-rooted feelings loneliness - they all come rushing back, overwhelming me.

I close eyes, try recalling my mother's gentle caress, her sweet voice just to calm my raging breath. But nothing comes. Everything has faded from my memory.

Ishika's pov

It's so hard to complete the backlog, I still have twenty chapters left to complete, I huff in annoyance.

Neither am I able to rest properly nor I am completing my targets. With this pace I don't think I'll even clear prelims. I'll have to stop procrastinating.

Closing my books I keep them in the shelf, I pick my phone and water bottle and switch off the lights of the study room. Tomorrow I'll do better.

I enter the bedroom tired and notice Abhiraj siting on the couch, his head tilted back against the headrest, eyes closed.

Files lay scattered in his lap, his laptop kept at the center table.

His forehead is creased with tension, he looks drained.

My brows scrunch in a frown, from past few weeks he has been so busy. He'll come late from the office, go early in the morning. He'll even work till late night, in the room.