A call for help

The women in the salon worked tirelessly, their hands moving with well-practiced precision as they pampered both Carmen and Ishan.

Despite the salon's humble setup, their skills were commendable. Calloused hands massaged fragrant oils into Carmen's tired feet, while another woman meticulously shaped and buffed

Ishan's nails with an expertise that surprised him.

"This color look good on you," one of them said in broken English,

carefully painting a sheer pink polish onto Ishan's already well-maintained nails.

Another woman, styling Carmen's hair, looked over and laughed.

"She has better nails than me!" she joked, making the others chuckle.

Ishan smirked, watching as they fumbled slightly with their tools.

Their techniques weren't as polished as Ratan's or any of his usual stylists, but their effort was undeniable. Still, he couldn't help but step in.

Ishan, ever the perfectionist, couldn't help but chime in with advice.

"If you use a thinner brush for the eyeliner, it'll give a sharper line," he suggested as one of the women struggled with his makeup.

He even demonstrated how to blend eyeshadow seamlessly, his fingers moving with the confidence of someone who had spent hours perfecting the art. The women were stunned by his knowledge and finesse.

Another woman nudged him playfully.

"¿Estás seguro de que esta es tu primera vez, señorita?"(You sure this is your first time, señorita?)" she teased, winking.

Carmen, ever quick on her feet, leaned in with a knowing smile. "She studied abroad, never learned Spanish,"

she explained, and the women nodded in understanding, switching to their best broken English as they continued chatting with Ishan.

After hours of pampering, Carmen unveiled a beautiful pink floral gown she had planned to give her daughter.

It was a pink floral gown, delicate and flowing, the kind of dress that looked like it belonged in a dreamy beachside photoshoot.

She held it up proudly, the fabric shimmering under the salon lights.

"I want to see you in this," she said, handing the dress to Ishan.

Ishan hesitated, his cheeks flushing. "Oh no, I couldn't"

"Come on, mija," Carmen insisted, her eyes twinkling. "Just try it on. For me."

Ishan's resistance crumbled. Deep down, he was curious to see how he would look in the gown. Reluctantly, he took the dress and disappeared into the changing room.

When he emerged, adjusting the soft fabric over his frame, he instinctively moved toward the mirror.

But before he could see himself, the women stopped him.

"You're missing something!" one of them giggled before producing two water balloons.

Ishan froze. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

The next thing he knew, the cold balloons were being tucked against his chest, the weight unfamiliar but... well, not entirely new.

He sighed dramatically. "Always the double-D cup, huh?"

Finally, they let him look in the mirror. Ishan stared at his reflection, his breath catching. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt comfortable in his own skin.

The gown, the makeup, the hair-it all came together to create a version of himself that felt whole. He turned to Carmen, a shy smile playing on his lips.

"How do I look?" he asked, his voice soft.

Carmen's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, my sweet daughter," she said, pulling him into a tight hug.

Lady, the balloons will burst! Ishan thought, but he didn't pull away. Despite the awkwardness, he found himself melting into her embrace.

For the first time in a week, he felt seen, accepted, and loved. He hugged her back, his heart swelling with gratitude.

Carmen's phone buzzed in the middle of their embrace. The soft vibration against Ishan's shoulder made him pull back slightly, and

Carmen, still sniffling, fumbled to pull it out of her pocket. The screen lit up with an incoming video call-Elena.

Ishan barely had time to register the name before Carmen answered.

"Elena?" Her voice, despite the earlier resentment, was immediately laced with concern. "What happened, mi amor? Are you okay?"

The image on the screen was shaky at first, but as it stabilized, Ishan could see a young woman late teens, early twenties, with dark curls sticking messily to her damp cheeks. She had been crying.

"Mamá..." Elena sniffled, swiping at her face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Carmen's expression softened instantly, worry replacing whatever lingering frustration she had felt.

"Did that boy Joel do something to you?" Her grip tightened around the phone, her voice sharp with maternal protectiveness.

Elena shook her head rapidly.

"No, no. He's right here." The camera wobbled as she turned it slightly, revealing a confused-looking young man in the background, shifting uncomfortably. "It's not him. It's me."

Elena bit her lip, looking away for a moment before taking a deep breath. "I've been missing you all day."

Her voice cracked. "I thought I wouldn't care, I told myself the beach party would be more fun, that it was just one birthday, that you'd understand... but the whole time, all I could think about was you, mamá."

Carmen pressed her hand to her chest, her lips trembling. "Oh, mi niña..."

"Everywhere I looked, I kept thinking, 'Mamá would love this. Mamá would laugh at that.' I kept reaching for my phone to text you, but I was too stubborn, too guilty. I should have been with you. I should have gone to the salon, done our mother-daughter day like we planned. I was so selfish."

Carmen wiped at her eyes, her voice choked with emotion. "You're here now, mi amor. That's all that matters."

"Joel has a bike, I'm coming to you. Right now. ", Elena took another shaky breath. " I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Please... please wait for me?"

"Of course, mi vida." Carmen let out a soft, teary laugh, nodding." I will wait as long as you need."

The call ended, leaving a stunned silence in its wake.

Ishan had been smiling, happy for Carmen, but then a horrible realization hit him. His stomach dropped.

"Oh my god." His voice came out in a whisper.

Carmen turned to him, still dabbing at her eyes. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"Carmen," Ishan said softly, his voice tinged with regret, "I... I didn't realize. You spent so much on this day, and now Elena's coming. I shouldn't have-"

Carmen cut him off with a gentle smile, placing a hand on his arm

. "Don't apologize, mija. You were exactly what I needed today. You helped me remember why I planned all this in the first place-to spend time with someone I love. And today, that someone was you."

Ishan knew he couldn't ruin Carmen and Elena's special day.

He quietly slipped out of the salon, his mind racing. As he stood outside, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, which he had shut down in anger earlier.

When he powered it on, the screen lit up with a flood of notifications.

39 messages... 23 missed calls.

His heart sank as he scrolled through the notifications, each one a reminder of how far he had stormed off in his anger.

The guilt hit him like a punch to the gut. Aryan must have been worried sick, he thought, his fingers trembling as he stared at the screen.

Just then, another call came through. The name on the screen was the same as the other 23 missed calls: Aryan Raichand (hubby ❤️).

Ishan hesitated for a moment, then answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Aryan..." he said, his tone a mix of relief and guilt.

"Where the hell are you?!" His voice was rough, tinged with frustration, but Ishan could hear it beneath the anger-the fear.

Ishan squeezed his eyes shut. God, he's been looking for me this whole time.

Guilt pressed against his ribs, but he pushed it aside.

Ishan swallowed hard, his throat tight. "I... I need your help."

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

If you ask Ishan why he has Aryan's number saved as Hubby with a ❤️, he will come up with some random excuse but we all know why he did it....

I wonder what name does Ishan have in aryan's phone...

It looks like the fire is burning from both sides It's just one was able to smell it while other one is pretending it to be some burnt food. How will this honeymoon end for both of them.?

Keep reading to find out more