shadow of the heart

Chapter 7: The Confrontation

The weekend arrived too quickly, and Nisha found herself a bundle of nerves. The looming meeting with Rohan's family felt like a dark cloud hanging over her. She could hardly focus on anything else, her mind swirling with thoughts about what her parents would say, how Rohan's family would react, and whether she would have the courage to stand her ground.

Saturday morning dawned with a beautiful blue sky, yet Nisha felt a weight in her chest. As she sat at the breakfast table with her parents, the silence was palpable. Her mother fidgeted with her napkin, and her father's stern expression suggested he was lost in thought.

"Are you ready for today?" her father finally asked, breaking the tension.

Nisha forced a smile, trying to hide her anxiety. "I guess," she replied, her voice shaky.

Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder, her touch comforting but heavy with expectation. "Nisha, remember to be respectful. Rohan's family is good people, and they only want what's best for you," she said, her tone almost pleading.

"Right," Nisha murmured, her heart racing. **"What about what's best for me?"** she thought but kept the words to herself. She wanted to avoid a confrontation before the meeting even began.

As the clock inched closer to the meeting time, Nisha felt like she was in a pressure cooker. "Let's go," her father said, standing up and motioning for Nisha and her mother to follow. The drive to Rohan's family home felt endless, each moment filled with anticipation and dread.

When they arrived, Nisha stepped out of the car, her stomach flipping. Rohan's family lived in a beautiful neighborhood with large homes surrounded by blooming gardens. As they walked up to the front door, Nisha felt a wave of apprehension wash over her.

Rohan's mother opened the door, her warm smile easing some of Nisha's tension. "Welcome! We're so glad you could make it," she said, ushering them inside.

The interior of the house was elegantly decorated, and Nisha felt a momentary sense of calm. Rohan's father was already seated in the living room, a broad smile on his face. "Nisha, it's so nice to see you again!" he said, standing to greet her.

"Nice to see you too, Uncle," Nisha replied, forcing a smile. She felt the weight of her parents' expectations pressing down on her.

"Rohan will be here soon. We thought we could have some snacks and tea while we wait," Rohan's mother suggested, leading them to the sitting area. Nisha's parents exchanged glances, clearly pleased.

As they settled into their seats, Nisha felt the tension in the air. Rohan's family was warm and welcoming, but beneath the surface, she could feel the unspoken expectations hovering like a storm cloud.

After a few minutes, Rohan entered, his face lighting up when he saw Nisha. "Hey! I'm glad you could make it," he said, his smile genuine.

"Hi, Rohan," Nisha replied, trying to sound cheerful despite the anxiety knotting her stomach.

"Let's catch up while we wait for the snacks," he suggested, taking a seat beside her. The moment felt surreal, as if they were actors in a play, each line rehearsed but the emotions behind them raw and uncertain.

As they exchanged small talk, Nisha couldn't shake the feeling that her parents were watching her closely. She could sense their approval when she laughed at Rohan's jokes and how they leaned in when she shared a story from college. But with each moment of pleasantry, the pressure mounted.

When the snacks finally arrived, everyone settled in, and Nisha found herself in the eye of the storm. Rohan's mother began to steer the conversation toward marriage, her voice laced with excitement. "So, Nisha, have you thought about what kind of wedding you'd want?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.