"You gotta be kidding me, Trish!" Whifler exclaimed, facing the window. He frustratedly massaged the bridge of his nose before turning to face her. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Trish's brows furrowed in worry as she avoided his gaze. "I was about to, but I wasn't sure if he'd already overcome it, so I let you off."
"This is not good... How can he pretend if he has it? You know your daily routine involves crowds! This is torture for him!" Trish fell silent at Whifler's words. He was right. Tristan wasn't in a good condition to be her substitute.
"How did your mother propose this idea when she knew her son has a phobia?! For Christ's sake, this is driving me crazy!"
"Mom... Actually, she didn't know," Trish gloomily replied, making Whifler pause for a moment.
"I'm sorry, what?" Whifler asked, wanting to make sure he hadn't misheard her.
"Mom had no idea," Trish replied, fumbling with her fingers. "She knows nothing... Nothing at all."
"Are you serious?? For 21 years?!" Whifler was in denial at what he had just heard. How could a mother be ignorant of her child's struggles?
"She didn't listen or even pay attention to him. They don't really talk, either... I guess that's why," Trish answered. Sadness and pity were vivid in her tone, and her eyes reflected it all.
"Then, we'll let her know... Tristan should not carry this burden!" Whifler seethed and was about to leave the room, but he was surprised as he opened the door. Tristan was standing outside the room.
"Tristan. Whā"
"Don't... I'll be fine." Whifler suddenly felt irritated at what Tristan said.
"Are you dumb?! What do you mean by 'FINE'?! Do you know what you're saying?" he exploded, but Tristan's head was just bowed.
"I know," he replied.
"This is a serious matter, Tristan!"
"I am serious too!"
Whifler flinched when Tristan lifted his head as he said those strong-willed words and looked at him. His eyes were full of emotions. He couldn't really distinguish it but, he could feel its fieriness.
"It was the first time that mom talked to me properly. It... It was the first time I saw an emotion in her eyes when she was looking at me. So, please. Let me do this. I don't want to disappoint her. I... I am perfectly fine. I will handle this," Tristan said softly.
Whifler was swayed and Trish felt pained while looking at his eyes. The eagerness and determination filled his gaze. The burning desires enveloped his soul.
Whifler frustratedly breathed out while massaging his forehead.
"You all driving me insane honestly," he said then looked at Tristan seriously.
"I see you really want to do it so I have no choice but, to give you a chance to prove yourself. But! In three conditions." Tristan's brows furrowed at Whifler's last sentence.
"What conditions?"
Whifler took a deep breath.
"No complaining. No stubbornness and you should do everything I tell you to do during your training and especially when you're finally out in public. Am I clear?"
Tristan's jaw hanged at Whifler's words.
"What was that?!"
"You don't agree? Then step aside. I will talk to your mother," Whifler teasingly said which made Tristan panic a bit.
"We-wait. Wait!! Alright. Okay! I got it!" Tristan said in defeat.
"It's settled then. You should rest now. We will see my friend tomorrow morning. He is a mental health specialist."
Tristan made an unamused expression on his face at what Whifler said.
"Do you think I'm mentally ill?!"
"No complaining, did you forget instantly?" Whifler said which annoyed Tristan even more.
"ALRIGHT!" Tristan clicked his tongue and then left the room. Whifler just chuckled after he left.
"Are you sure about this?" Trish asked. Whifler turned around to face her.
"You saw how eager he was. I couldn't let him down. Don't worry I'll do my best to help him." Whifler smiled. Trish felt relieved at his words.
"Thank You, Raj."