You're My Home | Complete ✔

Chapter 5

So this is where it begins.....

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The weather was a pleasing one that day. It was the end of October and cool breezes were flowing around New York. It was the perfect kind of weather to sit down and relax with a hot cup of tea and someone special.

Gosh she missed him. Armaan had gone to Boston for two weeks to visit his khaala, but to her it already seemed like an eternity. It was not like she didn't have a life before she met him. She couldn't understand why she was feeling so restless. Or maybe she did, but just couldn't admit it. It would break her heart if he did not feel the same way for her. The fear of rejection stopped her. She hated rejection. So she avoided confronting her feelings completely.

But Samara Wasim was unaware that somewhere, not much far, there was someone who was dying to meet her as much as she was dying to meet him. So much, that he was standing right in front of her door, contemplating on whether or not he should ring the bell.

*******

The doorbell? At this hour? It was around 11 pm that too on a weeknight, and she didn't usually have visitors coming over this late. A little worried, she rushed to open the door. There he was. Armaan Yasir, well dressed as usual in a blue shirt and beige trousers, while she stood there confused, in a casual suit and Patiala salwar. That too yellow.

"Armaan? W-what are you doing here? And weren't you supposed to be in Boston? Oh my God is everything alright?" Her heart had begun to pace.

"If you're done interrogating, may I come in?" He opened the door wider and went inside. "Everything is fine. I just wanted to meet you. I returned from Boston this morning."

"Wow. Thank you for letting me know." Samara gave him a look. He grinned at the sarcastic reply. She was actually really happy to see him, but of course he couldn't know that.

"Sit down, I'll go get some coffee for you."

"Okay, I'm waiting at your balcony. It would be offensive to sit inside in such a weather."

******

"Here you go," she handed him the coffee mug. "So, how was Boston? Didn't expect you to be back so early." But she wanted him to.

"Boston was nice. But it was too sober for my liking." She laughed. Typical Armaan. "I missed New York, so came back."
Just New York?

"Also, so much of work piled up that I thought it'd be better to come back early."

"How's khaala?"

"Good. She was really happy to see me. Asked me to give you her salaams and also sent a box of kaju barfi for you, since you liked it a lot the last time."

She grinned at the thought of kaju barfi. "Zeba khaala's such a sweetheart. Wonder why she never got married." She bit her tongue slightly, instantly regretting what she said.

Armaan took a deep breath. "Maybe my parents' failed marriage put it off for her too." He leaned back on the railing. "You tell me now. How've you been?"

"Just the usual. My parents are coming next month though."

"That's great! I finally get to meet the people behind this epitome of goodwill and idealism." Both chuckled. "But you don't seem as excited as you should be."

"I am excited. But I happen to know exactly why they're coming." Armaan looked at her, waiting for her to go on.

"It's a mystery to them why an educated girl in her late twenties would not be eager to get married. Now that I just have about a year of my residency left, the topic has become unavoidable I guess." Armaan nodded his head in agreement.

"They want to see me settled down. If I were still living in Delhi, I'd probably have had two kids by now." She gave an awkward laugh. "Maa's already asked me several times if I liked someone or had any plans of getting married."

"Do you? Have any plans for marriage?" It was a bit surprising getting a question about marriage from Armaan.

"I don't know," she said reluctantly. "Never really had the time to properly think about it. Not that I don't want to get married. I do. I want to have kids, raise a family. It's just that...." She didn't complete her sentence. More like she couldn't. Because she honestly had no idea what to say further.

"You haven't found your type?" Samara turned towards him and found him looking right back at her. How was it that the man always knew what was going on in her mind, even before she realized it herself?

"Possibly. I don't even know what my type is." She sounded like a very confused person, which she was not. Most of the time at least. "What about you? Ever found someone your type?"

Armaan waited for a few seconds before answering. "Yes."

She chuckled at how simply he could answer that. "And who might that be?"

"You."