Short Stories collection

STILL IN LOVE (3)

Beneath the cold

The large, ornate living room of the Raizada mansion was quiet, save for the occasional clink of coffee cups and the soft hum of the morning routine. Aradhya stood near the entrance, her coat already on, her bag slung over her shoulder, and her mind focused on the day ahead. She was running late for work again, a part of her relieved to escape the increasingly uncomfortable atmosphere at home.

Her mother, Mrs. Madhavi, sat in the plush armchair by the window, her eyes scanning through some papers. Her expression was a mix of concern and frustration, and her gaze lifted as she noticed Aradhya preparing to leave.

"Aradhya," her mother called softly, a slight edge to her voice. "Can we talk for a moment?"

Aradhya hesitated at the door, her fingers on the handle, but she didn't turn around. The weight of the conversation she knew was coming hung in the air, and she dreaded it. She had been avoiding this moment for days.

"I really don't have time for a long conversation right now, Mom," Aradhya said, keeping her voice steady, though the tension in her chest was undeniable. "I'm getting late for the office."

Her mother stood up, her face tightening in concern. "It's important, Aradhya. We need to talk. I know you are working at Samay's office"

The mention of his name caused Aradhya's pulse to quicken. Her heart tightened in her chest, and she instinctively took a small step back, as if distancing herself from the conversation before it could take shape.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said quickly, her voice firm, but there was an underlying tremor of uncertainty. "I have work to do. I'll be late."

Her father, who had been silent in the corner, set down his newspaper and joined in. His tone was more forceful, and his words carried the weight of years of expectations. "You can't keep running away from this, Aradhya. You need to face what happened. Till when will you be like this?"

Aradhya froze. The question was simple, but it felt like an accusation. She had spent so long burying that question deep inside her, not allowing herself to think about the boy she once loved.

"Please, not now, Dad," Aradhya muttered, swallowing hard. "I'm really late. You know how important my job is to me."

Her parents exchanged a brief look, a silent understanding passing between them, but the tension didn't lift. Her mother's voice softened, but there was a distinct note of hurt in it.

"Aradhya," she said gently. "We only want what's best for you. You can't keep avoiding this. You've been distant lately. Your father and I... we care about you. We just want to understand what's going on with you."

Aradhya clenched her jaw. Her mother's words struck her harder than she would have liked to admit. But she couldn't let them see how much it hurt, not when everything she was trying to avoid was coming back up to the surface.

"I know you care," Aradhya said, her voice a little sharper than she intended. "But I need to focus on my career right now. I don't want to talk about Samay or anything else. He is just a boss and I am an employee that it, I don't want to talk more about it, Not today."

There was a long pause, and for a brief moment, it felt like the whole world was holding its breath. Her parents were standing there, trying to reach her, and Aradhya felt the weight of their expectations pressing on her. But she had already made her decision. She couldn't confront it—not yet, not when everything felt like it was slipping away from her.

"I'm going to be late," she said again, this time more quietly, but with finality. "I'll talk to you later."

Without waiting for a reply, Aradhya turned toward the door and stepped outside, her heart racing in her chest. She didn't know if she was running from her parents, from Samay, or from herself—but she couldn't stay. Not in that moment.