OUR OBSESSIONS - FATE of LOVE

Chapter 6

DHRUV

The words that had escaped her lips left me utterly dumbfounded, as if the very earth beneath my feet had shifted.

I was paralyzed, my senses scattered in a thousand directions. By the time the fog in my mind began to lift, she had already slipped into the shadows of the night, leaving behind only a trail of confusion and unanswered questions.

For a brief, foolish moment, I thought of running after her, but something held me back-an invisible weight, the gravity of her questions anchoring me firmly in place.

Time blurred, slipping past like sand through my fingers. Before I knew it, I was back in my room, the quiet enveloping me, suffocating with its stillness. Sleep was a distant memory, a far-off land I could never reach.

My thoughts churned like a storm on the horizon, relentless and all-consuming. Where had she gone? Why had she chosen midnight to disappear? Was she truly not running away, or was there something more-something far more complicated?

The questions came in a relentless flood, each one darker than the last, drowning my thoughts in their intensity.

Desperate for some peace, I stepped into the shower, hoping the cold water would wash away the chaos in my mind. It came down in heavy sheets, as though nature itself was trying to cleanse me of the confusion that clung to my skin.

But when I finally sat on the edge of my bed, the cold sheets untouched beside me, the night stretched on endlessly. Sleep refused to come, and I was left alone with the questions that gnawed at my heart.

Earlier, the day had felt light, filled with the warmth of the sun and the carefree laughter of a family outing.

The winding road ahead seemed to promise endless possibilities as we cruised toward our little picnic spot. My parents, Esha, and I, the four of us, were joined by the Woods and my little brother, their car following behind us.

The atmosphere was carefree, a perfect day... until my mom, with a playful gleam in her eye, turned to Esha and asked, "Who do you love most, baby girl?"

Esha, startled, blinked a few times before answering, "Umm... Why are you asking this, Maa?"

"You've been distracted lately," my mom replied, her voice tinged with something I couldn't place. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Me? No way!" Esha laughed nervously. "Why would I be? I'm not even old enough for that! If Ma knew I was, she'd probably scare him off before I could even say his name!"

At sixteen, Esha was still caught in the innocent chaos of adolescence.

Family traditions ran deep, and dating young was often seen as something of a minefield.

Her mom, while not overly strict, had a habit of reminding us of the dangers of romance whenever a love scene appeared on TV screen, well Indians are Indians no matter what!

My mom smiled, her expression softening. "Okay then, who do you want to marry someday?"

The question hung in the air, and Esha was momentarily at a loss for words. "Uh..." She frowned, unsure of how to respond.

"What kind of guy do you want to marry, baby girl?" My mom's question carried a weight, a subtle expectation.

Esha glanced at me in the rearview mirror, and I immediately averted my eyes, feeling the familiar warmth creep up my neck.

She quickly looked away, returning her gaze to my mom. "I've never really thought about that, Ma."

The day moved on, but my thoughts stayed locked on those words.

Later, when I was rifling through my wardrobe for a T-shirt, my mom walked into my room. "What is it, Ma?" I asked, barely glancing up.

"Does Esha love you?" Her voice was casual, but there was a strange intensity in her gaze.

I froze my hand still on the sleeve of my shirt. "Huh?"

"I saw something in her eyes when I asked that question, Kanna," she said gently, her voice soft and knowing. "She's a nice girl."

A lump formed in my throat, and I quickly dismissed the thought. "I don't like her, Ma. She's just... clingy, and honestly, a bit airheaded."

My mom's expression remained unchanged. "Girls in love can be a little silly, Kanna. They only have eyes for the person they love, and they'll do anything for them."

"She's not my type, Ma," I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady, but deep inside, I knew the conversation wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

"Alright, my boy," my mom said softly, her words carrying an unspoken wisdom. "I won't push you, but don't wait too long to realize you might actually like her."

The words lingered in the air long after she left. I Like Esha? No way.

I shook my head, cursing myself for even considering it.

Yet, deep down, the seed of doubt had been planted, and it refused to be ignored.

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