55

It had been two days since Aryan had fixed things with his mom. The progress was slow, but at least now, they had small conversations— and their conversations didn't carry the same heaviness they once did. They were learning, adjusting, trying.

Currently, it was 5 AM, the soft hum of the city barely stirring outside. Inside Aryan's studio, the warm glow of the lamps cast long shadows as he finished up the last bit of packing for the London trip.

His parents were there—his father, Rajeev, watching him with a familiar authoritative stance, while his mother, Meeta, stood behind, uncertain but trying.

Rajeev exhaled, arms crossed. "Be safe. Don't drink too much. Keep your phone charged. And—"

Aryan rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Dad, it's a day trip. Not a world tour."

Rajeev gave him a look. "Doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful."

"I know, I know," Aryan muttered, shoving his charger into his bag.

Meanwhile, Meeta hesitated before stepping forward, slipping something inside his backpack.

Aryan noticed and sighed. "Mom, I don't need this."

Meeta's hands stiffened slightly, and her face faltered, as if afraid he was snapping at her.

Aryan ran a hand through his hair before softening his tone. "I mean, it's only a day trip. I'll be back at night, so I don't need an extra set of clothes."

Meeta nodded quickly. "Of course. Sorry, beta."

Aryan paused before shaking his head. "It's fine, Mom."

A small, cautious silence stretched between them as she nervously adjusted the zipper of his bag. Then, just as he was about to zip it shut, she murmured hesitantly, "Take care, okay?"

Aryan looked up. For the first time in a long time, her voice wasn't nagging, wasn't sharp—it was simply a mother's worry.

Aryan looked up. For the first time in a long time, his mother's voice wasn't nagging or sharp—it was simply a mother's worry.

He sighed, then nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Thanks. I'll call when I reach."

Meeta's lips parted in surprise before she quickly nodded, as if she didn't want to ruin the moment.

Rajeev clapped Aryan on the back. "Alright, let's get going. You don't want to miss your train."

Aryan slung his backpack over his shoulder, adjusting the strap as they all stepped out of the studio. The hallway was quiet, only the distant hum of the early morning city noise drifting in through the windows. They descended the stairs together, the three of them walking in an almost synchronized rhythm.

When they reached the reception, Aryan immediately spotted the rest of the group waiting for him. Rohan, Aakash, Karan, Aisha and Aria were all gathered, some holding cups of coffee, others lazily checking their phones, still groggy from the early morning wake-up.

Aisha stretched her arms and let out a yawn. "Finally, Aryan. Took you long enough."

Aryan smirked. "You're just mad I wasn't the last one here."

Karan chuckled. "Yeah, but don't celebrate yet. We're still missing someone."

Aria turned toward him. "Tara's not here?"

Aryan's smirk faltered slightly, but he covered it up by looking at his watch. "Guess not."

Aisha sighed, rubbing her temples. "She better not be delaying last minute."

"I'll call her," Aria offered, already pulling out her phone.

Aryan stood with his hands in his pockets, shifting slightly on his feet. His parents stood beside him, and for the first time in a long time, he felt... okay introducing them. He cleared his throat, glancing at the group.

"By the way, guys, this is my dad, Rajeev, and my mom, Meeta," he said, his voice steady, but there was something more in his tone. Pride? Relief? Maybe a little of both.

Meeta, who had been hesitant earlier, felt warmth bloom in her chest at the way her son finally introduced her—properly, without reluctance or hesitation.

Rajeev smiled, greeting everyone. "It's nice to meet you all. Aryan's mentioned you guys before."

Rohan smirked. "All good things, I hope?"

Aryan rolled his eyes. "You wish."

Meeta let out a small chuckle, and Aryan noticed the tension in her shoulders loosening. The more she talked, the more he saw the familiar grace she always carried—her polished, refined demeanor settling in again, but this time, without the coldness.

"So, what are all of you studying?" Rajeev asked curiously.

Aria perked up. "Rohan and I are doing Economics."

Meeta nodded approvingly. "That's a strong field. Are you planning to go into finance?"

Rohan shrugged. "Not sure yet. I might, but Aria's definitely set on it."

Aria smiled. "Yeah, I actually love the subject, so I might go into investment banking."

Rajeev looked impressed. "That's a challenging field, but I have no doubt you'll do well."

Aisha jumped in next. "Karan and I are doing Computer Science, same as Aryan and Aakash."

Rajeev chuckled. "It's good. Computer Science is the future."

Karan grinned. "That's what we tell ourselves to survive coding assignments."

Everyone laughed, the conversation feeling light, natural. Aryan stole a glance at his mom. Her shoulders had fully relaxed, her face more at ease. For the first time in years, she was fitting into his world, not standing outside of it. But despite the small relief that brought, a part of him still ached.

And then—

The elevator dinged.

The doors slid open, and out stepped Tara.

She was dressed in a simple yet effortlessly cool outfit—a fitted crop top with short sleeves that ended a little above her elbows and cargo pants that sat comfortably on her frame. Her hair was left open, soft waves framing her face, and she carried her bag slung over her shoulder.

"Guys, I'm so sorry I'm late, I—" she started, rushing toward them, but she stopped mid-sentence.

Because her eyes landed on Meeta and Rajeev.

The air shifted.

Aryan's chest tightened as he watched Tara's expression change—surprise flickering across her features, followed by something unreadable.

She stood still, staring at them.

And Meeta, for the first time in a long time, stared back at the girl she once unknowingly pushed away.

Aryan immediately noticed the shift in his mother's stance the moment Tara stepped out of the elevator. Meeta, who had been standing beside Rajeev comfortably just seconds ago, suddenly took a small step back, positioning herself slightly behind her husband as if trying not to overwhelm the girl who now stood frozen.

It was subtle. No one seemed to notice—except for Aryan and Aisha.

Aryan's jaw clenched, and when he flicked his gaze toward Aisha, he found her already looking at him, eyes questioning, almost as if she were silently asking, What do we do?

He exhaled, forcing himself to relax, and with a small, nearly imperceptible nod, he gestured toward Tara. Talk to her.

Aisha caught on immediately.

"Tara, finally," Aisha said, forcing a lightness into her voice, stepping forward slightly. "We need to create a separate time zone just for you."

Tara blinked, her expression momentarily shifting into something like amusement as she gave a small, hesitant smile. But Aryan could still see the fear in her eyes, the way she stood stiffly, her hands clutching onto the straps of her tote bag so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Rajeev, ever the observant one, seemed to sense the tension thickening in the air. With a relaxed smile, he turned to Aryan and asked, "Aren't you going to introduce her? She's part of your group, isn't she?"

Aryan hesitated, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. But then he forced himself to nod. "That's Tara."

Rajeev's expression softened as he stepped toward Tara, his voice warm. "Hi, beta, nice to meet you."

Tara nodded quickly, trying to steady her voice as she responded, "N-nice to meet-t you too, uncle."

Aryan clenched his fists harder.

It wasn't right.

The way she stammered. The way she still looked so terrified despite Rajeev's gentle tone.

And when Aryan's gaze flickered toward his mother, he saw it—the sadness in her eyes as she took in the fear she had unknowingly placed inside the girl who once loved her son.

Meeta wasn't sure what to do. He could see the way she hesitated, her eyes darting toward Rajeev as if asking for help. Rajeev met her gaze and gave a small nod, a silent reassurance.

Taking a deep breath, he turned back to Tara. "And this," he said gently, "is Aryan's mom, Meeta."

Meeta stepped forward, her movements slow, careful. She didn't miss the way Tara's grip on her bag tightened, how she looked almost ready to shrink away.

"Hi, beta," Meeta said softly, and then, after a small pause, she added, "It's very nice to meet you."

Tara swallowed, nodding quickly. "N-Nice to meet you too."

Meeta smiled softly, but there was something sad about it. "Thank you for the chai that day. It really worked magic on me."

Tara's lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the mention of it. "O-oh, um, no worries, aunty. I'm g-glad you liked it."

And then, for just a second, Meeta reached out and gently placed her hand over Tara's—just a light, fleeting touch against her trembling fingers, still clenched around her tote bag.

It lasted barely a moment before Meeta pulled away.

Tara inhaled sharply but managed a small, timid smile. "Thank you."

Aryan, who had been watching the entire exchange silently, felt something in his chest loosen. It wasn't perfect, but at least his mother was trying.

Aisha, however, was quick to notice the way Tara's breathing grew slightly uneven, the way her fingers twitched as if she was preparing to bolt.

Sensing the rising tension, she clapped her hands together. "Alright, guys, I think we should go now! We're reallyyyy late."

The group quickly agreed, eager to move things along.

Rajeev gave a warm nod as he looked at the kids. "Take care, all of you." Then his eyes found Tara's again, and with the same fatherly warmth, he added, "Enjoy yourself, beta. Don't stress too much."

Tara hesitated, then slowly nodded, offering him a small smile in return.

Aryan turned to his parents. "Bye."

And he was just about to turn away when something made him stop.

"Guys, wait," Aryan said to his friends before stepping toward his parents.

Without another word, he pulled both Rajeev and Meeta into a hug.

Tara, watching from a distance, felt an unexpected warmth spread through her chest at the sight. A genuine, smile unknowingly stretched across her lips.

And Meeta, who had hesitated slightly at first, caught that smile.

Her heart swelled as a mirroring smile appeared on her lips too. She is a sweet girl.

But then, just as quickly as Tara had smiled, she caught herself—her gaze met Meeta's for a brief second, and then, as if realizing what she had done, she quickly looked away.

The warmth in Meeta's heart turned into an ache.

Aryan, meanwhile, pulled back from the hug and turned to his mother. His voice was quiet, almost hesitant, but filled with sincerity.

"Thanks for trying, Mom."

Meeta felt her breath hitch.

He was thanking her.

He was seeing her effort.

Aryan took a step back. "See you."

And then he was walking away, back to his group, back to his world.

Meeta felt her eyes sting, tears of joy threatening to spill.

Rajeev watched Meeta, his voice filled with quiet reassurance. "You'll get your son back."

Meeta blinked away the tears threatening to spill as her gaze lingered on Aryan walking away. Her eyes then flickered to Tara for a brief second before she looked down, exhaling shakily.

With a soft, almost wistful smile, she murmured, "Mala fakta majhya mulala parat hasatana pahaycha aahe."

(I just want to see my son smiling.)

💜