"Ma, what do you think she's doing right now?"
The little boy is sprawled out on the intricately designed rug, facing the white-washed ceiling with a wide grin on his sweetheart face. His heart was old, and poetic, with dreams of the future swirling in every crook and corner of his being. He liked to fantasize about his betrothed, the little girl he had met on her first day into this world.
Holding her, with her toothless grin and her, tiny hands, was what he considered to be a gift. He hadn't known that without his single touch, without his heart strings connecting to her fate, the little girl's strings were to be cut off otherwise.
He had saved her without knowing, and his obsession with her sprouted at the young age. He had considered her to be his first friend. The boy didn't have very many friends. He liked to spend his time with inanimate objects rather than people.
Even at his age, he understood that people don't travel with you all the way unless you offer them a bribe— something in physical form. After all, the world revolved with the concept of materialism. He wanted to be alone with his books, with his pages of fairytales, and the odd mystery.
The young boy liked literature. He had a keen eye for any knowledge, in fact. He had a curious mind, like his future counterpart.
He would sit in his mother's 'office', a kitchen his mother spent most of her time at, and think about his dreams. His future had been determined by his parents, yet his heart had already been bought by a little girl. Love is unpredictable in that way, sneaking into someone's heart with neither their acknowledgment or consent.
"You saw Krithi yesterday. Are you already missing her?" His mother asks, stirring the soup with one firm grasp of the wooden handle.
The boy flips onto his stomach, his hands on his chubby cheeks. "It's not like I have anything to do. I finished all my books, so I was wondering if we could go to Krithi's this afternoon after a visit to the library." He pauses, plopping down on the carpet. "I just wish she would speak already. She's a smart baby, but it's getting really boring when I can't talk with her. Everything she says sounds like gibberish."
Maykala watches from the corner of her eye, smiling at her son with a odd sort of mirth. "Well, you can always play with Kanya."
"Kanya's too bossy. I don't like her." The boy says, his facial muscles contracting to a frown.
"You're bossy with Krithi, too. Her father doesn't like you because you keep making her cry." Maykala muses, turning off the stove, surmising that it was well cooked.
A smile sprouts onto his face. "Krithi never cries." He reminisces, shaking his head. It was one of the qualities he liked about the toddler. She wasn't a easy person to manipulate, but she was still fun to play with. No other two year old could be as strategic as the little girl, and he appreciated the well-coordinated, timely play dates and the immaculately organized setting of her play area.
"Correction." His mother argues. "She never sheds the tears." Maykala washes her hands in the sink, wiping on the clean towel hanging on the dishwasher rack. She walks towards her son, crouching down to his level. "You're spending too much time with Krithi. Can't we go somewhere else?"
Aniket shakes his head. "I want to go to Krithi's." He says stubbornly.
"You said it was boring though."
"I can always bring a book with me to read for her. She likes books too."
Maykala smiles at her son slyly. "You only have two months with me, babu. Then you're going to be at school all day. You'll miss me, and you will regret it afterwards." She ponders, thinking of a way to bribe her son to spend time with her. "How about the beach? You love the beach, don't you?"
Aniket's face brightens. "Can we take Krithi with us?"
Maykala sighs. Her son was showing the signs of a hopeless romantic, and she could tell that whatever forces that connected the boy's heart to the little girl's fate, those heavenly beings were stronger than her love for her son.
It was time she let him be hers. "Sure, babu."
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YOU ARE READING
The Corporate Monster ✅
RomanceThe sequel to The Workaholic Wife. Cannot be read as a stand-alone. Aniket Pandya has never wanted to leave his money behind before. And that, for a woman. He was tired of all the scheming and the threats money came with. He wanted out, and he wante...
