"All of you, let's go home. We need to come back early here. Abhi, Ekantha, you take the scooter and we'll three come by walk. It's not that far anyway," Ekantha's grandmother suggested.
"No, no, ammamma, you and thatayya take the scooter. We can walk," Ekantha said.
"We'll walk home with our friends, kanna. You go home with Abhi," Kanyaka said softly, to which Ekantha just nodded.
The two of them walked toward the scooter parked near the temple while the three slowly vanished from their sight. They could still vaguely hear her mother and grandparents talking — their voices fading gently into the night.
Abhi, on the other hand, had a strange good feeling blooming in his chest — a rare sort of stillness. He looked at his Ammu. She wasn't doing anything. Just standing beside him. Yet, to him, she looked like a prayer answered — divinity wrapped in quiet strength.
He had a sudden urge to wrap her in his arms and never let go. Never let the world hurt her again. Just him and her. Always.
"What are you thinking about, Ammu?" he asked, unlocking the scooter.
"Nothing, just... it's been a while since I saw them all together. It brings this strange déjà vu feeling," she said, slowly leaning into him, resting her head against his shoulder, her hand gently curled around his arm.
"Isn't it crazy?" she murmured. "The life I used to dream of — the soft kind, the slow kind — it's all actually coming true. I used to laugh at myself for having such unrealistic dreams. Never talked about it to anyone. I didn't believe in myself... I think I judged myself more than anyone else ever did."
She paused.
He didn't say anything immediately. He just slid his hand over hers — the one resting on his arm — and gently squeezed.
"And I'm here to cherish you more than anyone else ever could, Ammu. I won't say I'll erase your pain — that's not how healing works. But I promise... I'll never let you forget your worth. You're my bravest soldier. I'm so, so proud of you."
She slowly let go of his arm, her expression softening into a small smile — quiet, but whole.
Maybe that's all she needed to hear.
Maybe that's all he needed to say.
"I'm such an idiot. We should go now," she muttered, tapping her own back of head lightly.
"You're not an idiot," he said gently, reaching over to rub the spot she hit. "Don't do that."
Both of them got onto the scooter. She wrapped her arms around his waist loosely at first, then let her forehead rest softly on his back. Not asleep. Just... allowing herself to breathe. To lean into comfort. To heal.
The jasmine in her braid brushed his shoulder in the wind.
And neither of them said anything more.
The silence between them didn't need filling.
It was already full.
It took them ten minutes to reach home, he parked the scooter in the porch and as soon as they entered the home, the smell of ajwain hit their nostrils. Abhi went towards the kitchen while Ekantha retired into her room.
"Smell adiripoyindi, em chestunnaru bamma garu" [ It smells so good, what are you cooking, grandma?],he asked.
"Nothing much, Abhi. Just some upma",she replied as he sat on the kitchen counter.
"I am not usually an upma person, bamma garu! Smell is really tempting",he said to which she chuckled.
As they both sat in silence, while Ekantha's grandmother stirred the dish. She glanced at Abhi once and continued to stir.
YOU ARE READING
Marrying Miss. Insecure
General Fiction❝Your past doesn't define your future. Embrace change, and let your dreams shape your destiny❞ In the bustling streets of Hyderabad, Ekantha, a young woman haunted by insecurities and a painful past, is at a crossroads. She finds solace in natur...
