| 'Time' Series: Book One |
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The workings of her brain were a mystery to her own pneuma.
That's what Hinduja Rao always thought.
But, quite similar to her thoughts about her own self, was someone else around her.
Her newly wedded husband, the...
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Word Count : 3400
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61 | The Trump Card
|18th May, 2023|
|1115 Hours|
Aravind Hariprasad intertwined his fingers, resting them comfortably on the table as his eyes examined the known young woman sitting before him, across the table. "You know what my senses say?"
She looked up from her lap, meeting his gaze. "What?"
"That your husband is not the only source of your worry." He smiled. "So, what else? Or should I ask..." He paused, raising a brow. "Who else?"
She stayed still, basking in her own silence.
"Let me guess." The curve of his lips remained intact. "Vijaypath? Is it Vijaypath?"
She blinked her eyes once, feebly nodding her head.
"You fear that he will get to know things soon?" The old man probed.
She sighed. "I fear what he will do after he gets to know things." Taking a pause, she adjusted her specs with the tip of her forefinger. "Had it only been me, the matter would have still been a little easier to handle, but that's not the reality here." Placing her arms behind her head, she reposed back on the top rail of the visiting chair. "I don't know how Bhai will cope with everything. Alizeh was a phase of his life from which he never seemed to have completely healed, and now I am going to gift him another one, this time for life, most probably."
"He calls you Molu." He stated.
"He does." She smiled.
"Since when?"
She chuckled, gazing at the ceiling, deep in thought. "It was around five years ago. He was still serving in the Navy at that time. He was on leave, but instead of coming home here in Delhi directly, he chose to visit me at college for a day."
