When the stars align

The fall out

Sorry for this much delay... Enjoy with a long chapter❤️

Happy TaeTae day guys.. hope you are doing well... it's cold.. Take care of yourself..
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The echo of her father’s voice filled the living room, calling San’s name with a familiar warmth that carried both affection and fatigue. He had just come home after a long day at work, his excitement bubbling over at the thought of seeing his daughter after what felt like ages.

“San?” he called again, a gentle impatience in his tone.

“Hmmm?” San replied absentmindedly from her room. Her father’s presence always brought a certain comfort, but tonight her mind was restless.

“How are you?” he asked, walking into the room while loosening his tie. He looked at her with a father’s love—a blend of curiosity and concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” she said, glancing up with a faint smile. “Good, actually.”

He nodded, as though her words were enough to set his mind at ease, then asked, “When did you get home? And how’s your studying going?” His voice carried the kind of calm inquiry that only a parent could perfect.

As he changed into more comfortable clothes, San kept busy in the kitchen, stirring a pot and plating food. “It’s fine too,” she said, her tone light, almost too casual. She filled him in on the little things that had happened over the past few days, adding small details she hoped would keep him from asking too many questions. They talked, their conversation flowing easily, punctuated with the soft clatter of pots and pans.

When her father, ever playful, teased her about her vague and silly answers, she ducked into the next room, laughing as she sought refuge near her mother. But her laughter stilled when he called out again, this time with a question she’d been dreading.

“What about Aakash?”

San’s hands froze mid-motion. Her heart gave a small, uneasy flutter. How could she tell him the truth—that she hadn’t spoken to Aakash in weeks? That she didn’t want to? The thought of explaining her feelings was unbearable, tangled as they were with her father’s expectations and concern.

“It’s… good,” she said finally, the words slipping out too quickly. She avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the half-diced onions in front of her.

Her father wasn’t convinced. “Are things really good between you two?” he pressed gently, his voice softer now. “Does he seem like a good guy? If there’s anything you’re not happy about, you can always tell me.”

San’s throat tightened. The words she wanted to say—I don’t want this marriage, Dad—hovered just out of reach, held back by the weight of his love, his worry. Instead, she forced another smile, as fragile as glass, and nodded. “Everything’s fine,” she said, her voice steady enough to sound believable.

Her mother, who had been watching the exchange with quiet amusement, suddenly chimed in, teasing, “Oh, look at San now. Didn’t someone once say she wanted to be a monk instead of getting married?”

San flushed as her mother’s laughter filled the room, drawing her father in too. They teased her mercilessly, recalling her old declarations of wanting to renounce the world and live a life of peace and solitude. It had been a running joke in the family for years. Her mother’s voice, still laced with humor, added, “And now look at her, getting ready to be a bride.”

Laughter and smiles spread through the room, the kind of joy that turned simple evenings into cherished memories. They gathered at the table, sharing food and stories, their voices overlapping in warm, chaotic harmony. Yet, beneath the surface, San’s heart remained heavy.