~10~

March, 2015

Ava's POV:

I most definitely didn't imagine my week like this when I suggested we should plan something for this weekend at the café. My mom was driving me home, fuming from the conversation at the hospital.

"How long has this been going on? How long have you been lying and sneaking around with him?!" she demanded as soon as we got home, her voice cutting through the silence like a whip. I froze, her words shocking me to my core.

"What do you even know about us to talk like that!" I shot back, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and hurt.

"Shut up! Don't even try to defend what you did. Is this what you've been doing every time you said you were going to Priti's?" she snapped, her glare searing into me.

"Ma, please. If you found out any other way, you wouldn't be reacting like this," I pleaded, my voice trembling.

"Mmhmm. How would I react any other way when I find out that my daughter is sleeping around?" she shouted, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Mom! How could you say that?!" I exclaimed, disgusted by her accusation. Is this the woman I know? I knew she was against relationships and obsessed with status, but to jump to such a conclusion? She wouldn't even let me explain.

"You tell me how I'm supposed to take this. Can you possibly imagine what I felt when you told the police you were with him from 6 to 10?!" Her eyes moistened as she collapsed onto the couch.

"It's already hard enough balancing this family when you barely speak to your father just because he works far away and visits us only once in a while. Now, tell me—how am I supposed to take this? Why can't you be normal like every other girl in society? Do you always have to cause problems?" she asked, her words cutting deeper with every syllable.

A lump formed in my throat as she brought up Dad. She knows how emotional that topic is for me. I'm not normal, right? I'm not perfect, not the daughter she wants me to be. All she cares about is her reputation.

"If you wanted a perfect daughter, you should have given birth to a robot, not a human," I retorted, my voice breaking. Her hand struck my cheek so hard that it left a sting, and I stumbled back in shock.

"It's not your mistake. It's mine. I've given you too much freedom. You will never see that boy again, and you're not leaving this house until school starts," she declared before storming off, leaving me alone in the hall.

Hours passed as I sat in my room, seething with irritation at everyone and everything. Something about this whole situation felt wrong. Sure, she's upset about the relationship, but her reaction felt extreme, almost desperate. She wouldn't even let me explain. Instead, she jumped to conclusions, spinning whatever narrative suited her. All I wanted was to know how Darsh was doing. This bad feeling in my chest wouldn't go away.

I ignored calls from Abhi, Priti, and Virin, my eyes glued to my phone, waiting for the name I wanted to pop up on the screen.

It took another hour, nearly midnight, before a text finally came through: "Can you meet me?" Without hesitation, I grabbed my jacket and ran up to the terrace—our usual spot.

There he stood, facing the city skyline, his shoulders tense. I tried to compose myself as best I could, hiding the swelling on my cheek and the puffiness around my eyes. When he turned around, his expression shifted from shock to anger as his gaze locked onto my cheek.

I rushed to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face in his chest, hoping his familiar scent would soothe me like it always did. But tonight, it didn't. Instead, I crumbled, the weight of everything that happened finally breaking me.

He hugged me back, pressing an ice pack gently to my cheek. I looked up at him, confused.

"Priti told me everything that happened at the hospital," he said, his jaw clenched tightly.

"I knew my mom was against relationships, but the way she reacted was totally shocking. I never thought she could be that harsh. She never said anything when I avoided my dad. I thought she understood, but she told me she'd been tolerating it. Then she asked me why I can't just be normal," I confessed, my voice trembling as the words poured out.

He listened, his face softening as I spoke. "You know how shocked I was when our moms started criticizing each other like sworn enemies? Anyone would've thought they've been at war for decades," I said, as his hands cradled my face. I flinched at the touch, and he immediately pulled back. "Sorry," he muttered, his voice low.

"I'm sorry I gave us away when I partly knew how they'd react," he said, his eyes dropping to our clasped hands.

"I love you," I blurted out, unable to hold it in any longer. His eyes shot up to meet mine, and a small smile tugged at his lips as he kissed my forehead.

"I love you too," he replied softly.

"Baby, this isn't the 1960s. We're not going to give up just because our parents don't approve," I said, trying to inject some lightness into the conversation. He chuckled, his arms wrapping tightly around me.

"I know. They're stuck in the past, and they'll probably never change. But promise me you'll never leave me," I whispered, resting my chin on his chest and smiling faintly, though my heart felt heavy.

He kissed me gently on the lips before pulling me into a deeper embrace. For now, that was enough.

~~**~~