Mission Love - Chasing Mr. Right ✓

Thirty-Nine

Recap: Ryan's gone!

The house felt calmer today, but not in the way that brought peace. It was the kind of calm that came before a storm—either that or I'm being paranoid.

I sat on the swing in the balcony, absentmindedly tapping my mehndi-stained fingers against the armrest, my gaze lost in the swaying trees. Sleep had been impossible last night, not when my mind kept replaying Ryan's touch, the warmth of his hand against mine, the way his voice had dipped just before he left.

And that stupid mehndi.

I groaned, glaring at my own hands. Who even told him to do that?

" 'I'll be back in the morning.' " I mimicked him horribly. "Big words for someone who can't even keep a promise." My gaze hardened as I glared down the empty street.

"Aisha stop sulking and come eat!" My father's voice snapped me out of my daze.

I frowned. "I'm not sulking!"

"Yes, you are," he countered. "Now come before I send your mother to drag you down."

I huffed, pushing myself up and trudging inside.

Breakfast smelled of freshly made parathas and spiced chai, but my appetite had vanished somewhere between frustration and confusion. My father sat at the head of the table, his reading glasses perched on his nose as he scanned the morning newspaper. When I sat across from him, he put it down, giving me a knowing look.

"Still upset ?" he asked, pouring himself a cup of tea.

I picked at my paratha. "I'm not upset."

He hummed, unconvinced. "You know, Aisha, I didn't make you stay with Ryan just to annoy you."

I glanced up sharply. That again?

"I told you before, it was for your safety." His voice was calm, but firm, like he had rehearsed this reasoning a hundred times before. He exhaled. "I needed to make sure you had someone looking out for you."

I pressed my lips together. I hated that he made sense sometimes. But that didn't mean I liked the idea of being... what? Watched over? Guarded?

Before I could respond, the doorbell rang. With a groan, I got up, heading to the door, and pulled it open—

Only to freeze.

Ryan stood there, dressed in a crisp black button-up, his sleeves rolled to his forearms. His eyes locked onto mine immediately, but before I could even process his presence I turned stiff, my stomach lurching.

Because Ryan wasn't alone.
Mr. and Mrs. Roy came into view from behind. His father was composed as always, dressed in an expensive suit, and his mother—his mother was smiling like she was about to announce something world-altering.

And I had a sinking feeling I wasn't going to like it.

Dad immediately stepped forward, a warm smile stretching across his face as he shook their hands.
"Oh! Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Roy. Please, come in."

My legs felt heavy as I stepped aside, making room for them to enter. Ryan's mother brushed past me, her hand resting briefly on my arm as she beamed, her eyes crinkling with genuine warmth.

Oh God! Now what?
_____

We gathered in the sitting area, my dad pouring tea with practiced ease, while my mom sat beside him. Ryan sat directly across from me, his posture rigid, his gaze flickering before dropping to his hands.