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Chapter 13

Armaan had always enjoyed driving long distances alone. It gave him a certain sense of freedom, as if he was going away from all the problems in his life. But things had changed ever since Samara became a part of it. He got used to her presence in the passenger seat beside him, and it was something he immensely missed that morning on his way to Boston. He still couldn't come to terms with his feelings, or to be more appropriate, he couldn't exactly figure them out. There was a residue of anger, but more than that, there was a hollowness. A pain. He had seen the same kind of pain in her eyes too. What was even more disturbing was that it wasn't caused by anything else, rather their own ego and misunderstandings.

He wasn't unaware of such conflicts, the kind that developed from ego. Armaan grew up watching them. In between his parents. Memories started flashing in his mind. He could remember hiding behind curtains, scared that his father would hurt him in anger. He remembered all the deafening screams of argument, his mother throwing things on the floor in anger. Probably one of the worst memory he had was of that terrible night, when he tried to run away. The little seven-year-old boy, scared and alone. He was only able to reach the nearest bus station, before he was found by one of the security guards who were looking for him. The next thing he knew, his daadi packed his belongings and took him with her to her place. Not much later, both of them moved to New York, leaving all the bad memories behind. But memories aren't something you get rid of that easily.

*******

"Yeah maa, I'll take a look don't worry, but there's still so much time left. Why are you rushing it?" She tried to calm her mother down as she reprimanded her on the other side of the call.

"Samara please beta, it's your wedding. Do you know how long your father and I have been planning for this? The halls sometimes need to be booked a whole year in advance. If we don't rush things now, I don't see how you're getting married by the end of this year."

Honestly, I don't either. By this point, Samara wasn't even sure whether she was actually ready to get married. Things had fallen out of place so suddenly that she didn't have the time to think things through. She was in an extremely terrible and confused state of mind. Was she going to get married at the end of the day?

*******

"Armaan you better not goof around. You're here to help me. So please focus on that."

"Oh God khaala, relax. You're getting married! Be happy. The frown on your forehead makes you look 10 years older than you are. Now we don't want to see a worried old bride do we? Brendon will run away from his own wedding." The aunt-nephew duo broke out into giggles as they shared a light-hearted conversation. The wedding preparations were going on in full swing. It wasn't going to be a lavish affair, but at the same time it wasn't to be plain boring either. Armaan started to take the arrangements in his hands as soon as he arrived. His khaala had always been his closest family member after his daadi, and he would do anything to ensure that her wedding went by without any problem and that she was happy.

There were quite a few old friends and family attending the wedding. Some Armaan had not seen in years. He was talking to some of his cousins when he felt a hand tapping on his shoulder, and he turned. If there were any one person Armaan would rather avoid at this wedding, it would be his mom. But fate had planned otherwise.

"Assalam-u-alaikum."

"Walaikum Assalam. How are you doing? Congratulations on your engagement. Sorry I couldn't attend, I was in Turkey for work at that time." Of course she was. That was how Maya Qureshi always was. A renowned journalist who gave her work priority over everything else. Even her son.

Zeba could see what was happening from a distance. She sensed the growing tension between her sister and nephew, and decided to quickly intervene.

"Aapa! I've been looking for you. I need you to help me pick out some jewelry for tomorrow. Please come with me, I need to figure this out fast." Maya was a little hesitant but agreed at her sister's insistence. She could talk to her son later.

Armaan looked at his khaala and thanked her in gestures for understanding his situation. He had no intention of getting into a conversation with his estranged mother. It would only inflict more pain to his already broken heart. There was a good reason why his fight with Samara hurt him so much. It was as if he was re-living his childhood all over again, except this time he couldn't hide, nor could he run.

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Hi my cuties! I'm so sorry for the delay and such a short chapter, but I've got so many things keeping me busy these days. Nevertheless, I always try to keep up with writing. This particular chapter focuses on Armaan as we look into his past. Do leave your precious feedback and tell me what you think about it 😊

Lot of Love.