No Conditions, Whatsoever

Anxiety and excuses

Ayan's PoV:

Mom kissed my hair as I lay my head on her lap and watched television. This was the seventh kiss in the last forty five minutes. Zara Bhabhi was sitting on the couch adjacent to ours as she rubbed little Zaim’s tiny back to make him burp.

She gave birth around three weeks ago, making me prepone my plans of coming home. I had initially wanted to come at least one more week later but the desire to see the new lad took over all my rationality.

So here I was, munching on some banana chips and watching a cooking show with the ladies that apparently was teaching its audience some recipes that were healthy and delicious. I had returned at four in the morning and my brothers had come to pick me up. Ashiya and Ahan Bhai had decided to stay the night with us as it was a Saturday night.

“I have heard that this dish is good for new mothers,” Bhabhi commented as she intently listened to the bald man wearing an apron and cooking gloves. He was making salmon with some leaves that I failed to recognise. “It will help in losing the weight that I have gained.”

“Focus on your health first, Zara,” Mom said softly but firmly, “you had a C-section not even a month ago. You need to take proper rest and a fulfilling diet.”

Bhabhi pouted and looked at me, expecting me to lend her some support. “Mom is right,” I spoke and grinned when her eyes narrowed, “besides, you ain't that fat, you know. Just around hundred kilos, I gue-”

A pillow was thrown on my handsome face even before I could complete my sentence. “Stop teasing me!” I laughed at her annoyed state but held my hands up in surrender. I knew I was being petty by trying to irritate a woman who was going through postpartum struggle but it was just an attempt from my side to lighten up her mood.

“Okay, I'm sorry,” I apologised as I got up and walked to sit in front of her on the floor and on my knees. “You're still so pretty, even more gorgeous I must say,” I smiled at her to which she rolled her eyes but her lips curved nonetheless. “And you,” I added as I reached to take Zaim from her embrace, “are so handsome, just like your uncle.”

Zaim’s body felt too petite in my arms, his brown eyes, a classic Rahman feature on his milky white face, staring at me in confusion. “So cute,” I kissed his nose and stood up to go out for a walk.

“Where are you going?” Mom called me from behind, “Dinner is ready.”

“It's not even eight yet, Mom,” I replied, “besides, my brothers and Ashiya aren't home yet.”

“Says who?” I felt my forehead being flicked before I could see the person in front but recognised him as soon as his long fingers hit me.

“Bhai!” I whined a bit too loudly, startling Zaim in the process.

Don't cry.

Don't cry.

Please. Don't. Cry.

I mentally pleaded with him but alas his eyes began to water and he let out a sharp wail.

“Why,” Ashiya placed her hands on her hips as she looked accusingly at Ahan Bhai and me. “Why do men never grow up?” Shaking her head, she was about to take Zaim away from me when Bhai stopped her.

“Take care of that one first,” Bhai pointed at Ayra whom I had failed to notice. She had run inside the house and was now insisting to untie Mom's braided hair so that she could tie it again in a different style.

“Ya Allah, I wonder why this girl is so chaotic,” Ashiya hurried to stop Ayra while Bhai took hold of Zaim.

“Yeah, big mystery,” he said in a very low voice that was full of sarcasm and I suppressed a snort at that. “Hello, young man,” he greeted Zaim who was surprisingly not crying anymore.

“How did you do that?” I asked out of curiosity.

“Do what?” Bhai kept his focus on Zaim and began to rock him back and forth.

“Calm him down.”

Bhai smirked at my question as if it was the most obvious  thing in the world. “Experience,” he answered with an air of superiority. “I have been handling crybabies ever since you came into this world.”

“Hey!” That offended me.

He just shrugged  and was about to walk off when he stopped and turned to me, this time all serious. “I have a task for you.”

“I'm not fetching you water or something.”

“Tsk tsk, you impolite child,” he shook his head, “anyway, that's not what I'm asking of you.” His hand dipped inside his pants’ pocket as he fished out his car keys and threw them at me.

I caught them at once, just like I always had.

“Ashiya and I had taken the liberty to drop your  junior home a couple of weeks ago,” he revealed.

“Feiha?” Her name came out of my mouth like a reflex.

Bhai nodded at me, his siren eyes not giving away anything. “She forgot her wallet inside the car. I would have returned it to her but I got busy. Can you do it? The wallet is in the glove box.”

Will it be wise of me to go to her after all that has happened between us? Uncertainty lingered in my mind.

“But the dinner is ready…”

Bhai gave me an Are you really trying to play smart with me? look as I understood his disapproval of my poor excuse. “And it's not even eight yet,” he repeated my words, “Besides, Arhaan will be late.”

I thought of refusing him. If the wallet had been important, Feiha would have surely tried to get it back through some way or the other. Or we could send our driver to her address, or wait for her to reach out.

But who was I kidding?

I'd slap myself if I dared to say that I wasn't dying to get a glimpse of her. To hear her voice. To ask her if she ever thought of me in my absence. I knew things were awkward between us but I just wanted to see her and make sure that she was fine.

Bhai waited for me, studying my face and searching for any flash of emotion but I faked coolness and nodded. “Fine, I'll go.”

_________________________________________

Soooooo our hero is back in town and he is going to meet his heroine, AGAIN. And let me warn you that the upcoming chapters going to be pretty dramatic with some major twists and turns.

I'll try to update as soon as possible so keep voting and commenting.

Bbye❤️