Arav:
Within two hours, I reached Bangalore. After three months, I'm back to my normal life. Nothing has changed—if anything, it's gotten worse. Now, I have to stay calm and listen to what everyone around me wants, while some people only come to me for money.
Those three months were completely different. That man taught me how to be confident, how to fight for what I want. But now, I don't know how to overcome the situation I'm in.
As I stepped out, I saw Indu waiting by the car. Her face looked dull, with dark circles under her eyes, and no emotion. Usually, she's bright, like sunshine. I don't know what happened to her.
When she saw me, she forced a smile and tossed me a box. I caught it and opened it, finding it filled with jellies in different flavors. I could feel her eyes on me, watching for a reaction as my face lit up with excitement.
But before I could say anything, a car screeched to a halt in front of me. My driver stepped out and handed me my phone, which I hadn't had for a while.
"Come home as soon as possible."
"I just landed. Can I at least talk to Indu? She's been waiting for me for over an hour."
"Just do what I say. I'm doing this for your own good."
Hearing my mom's words hurt. It made me feel like I was still an eight-year-old kid. I glanced at Indu. "Emergency," I muttered.
She just nodded, like always. She's the only one who truly understands me.
I opened the car door, ready to get inside, when suddenly about 15 people swarmed around me, holding cameras, pens, and notebooks. Their presence irritated me. As they pressed in closer, it felt suffocating.
The driver pushed the crowd away as they bombarded me with questions.
"Arav, is there another reason you ran away from your marriage?"
"Did your parents' divorce bring you back?"
"Was one of your parents having an affair? Is that what led to the divorce?"
"Were they unhappy in their marriage?"
I was fuming. Their questions were absurd and intrusive, only making me more annoyed. I got into the car and slammed the door shut. The driver immediately started the engine, and we left the place. Through the window, I saw their faces filled with disappointment.
My mom's words echoed in my mind—why had she asked me to come home so quickly? If the media was this bad, how were things with my parents? Was I the reason for their divorce? Did my presence cause the arguments that led to their separation? But then again, they had been cold toward each other for as long as I could remember.
"Raju, take me to my mom. I need to see her as soon as possible."
"Sir... your mom asked me to take you home safely."
I raised an eyebrow, my face stern. "Just do what I say." Raju looked at me in the rearview mirror, surprised. I wasn't usually like this. I rarely gave direct orders, but something had changed. He'd been working for our family for 15 years, so he knew me well. This must have shocked him.
The car stopped in front of a large house with a board that read "Gayathri Mansion." I got out, walking through the gate. The watchman approached me, trying to stop me, but Raju intervened, explaining that my mom was inside and I needed to go in.
As I walked around the mansion, I noticed the beautiful garden—but it felt lifeless. There were no flowers, no birds. In a garden this size, you'd expect squirrels or small animals, but it was eerily quiet. Still, I moved forward.
Inside, I saw my mom. Her face was tense, and she was yelling at a man who sat on the sofa, watching her as if it were all entertainment to him.
"Don't you dare touch my son! He's done nothing to you. If you have a problem with us, deal with us. Leave him alone!" Her voice was filled with pain, almost panicked.
I rushed to her and held her. When she looked into my eyes, her face softened, a glimmer of relief washing over her. But then, she quickly asked, "Why are you here?"
The man stepped closer to us. "I am Krishna Murthy," he said.
My mom immediately moved in front of me, shielding me. "Stay away from my child," she said, her voice trembling with fear.
He laughed at her, a twisted satisfaction on his face, as though he had won something.
I held my mom firmly, clearing all emotion from my face, and stood tall, taking the lead. "I'm Arav Reddy. Glad to meet you. We'll talk later. I need to go." My voice was sharp and commanding, leaving him momentarily speechless.
"Okay, as you wish. I must say, I'm impressed. I never knew you'd grow into such a bold person. You seem bit interesting I'd like to have coffee with."
"I look forward to it," I replied coolly. With that, I put my arm around my mom's shoulder and led her out of the house.
The driver quickly opened the car door for us. We both got in, and my mom grasped my hand, her eyes filling with tears. "Why did you come here, Arav? I told you to go home," she said softly.
"What were you doing there alone, Mom? Where's Dad? And why were you shouting at him? He was just sitting there, enjoying your pain." My voice was gentle but filled with concern.
She wiped her tears. "He's a terrible man, Arav. He and your father were best friends once, but now he's alone. He's jealous—he wants to destroy us. No one knew you were coming except for me and Indu. But somehow, he knew. He always knows everything. He leaked the news of your return to the media just to torment you."
I held her close. "Amma, calm down. Everything will be okay."
Soon, the car stopped at our house. We went inside. Dad was sitting on the sofa, looking disappointed. "Where were you both?" he asked in a harsh tone.
"It's pointless to ask, since you know exactly where we were," Mom shot back as she headed for her room.
Dad followed her, trying to grab her hand, but she pulled away before he could touch her. "Don't even think about touching me. You disgust me," she spat before running into her bedroom and slamming the door.
I stared at Dad, shocked.
"Sit down," he said, sounding weary. "It's been a long time—we need to talk."
I sat on the sofa, not meeting his eyes, my head bent. "Where were you? And why did you run away from the marriage? What were you doing at Krishna's house?"
I lifted my head slightly. "Don't you even care about how Mom was there in front of him? Do you care about us at all, Dad? Why are you like this?" My voice was lifeless.
"Everyone blames me. I know nothing, Arav," he replied, his voice soft, almost broken.
"Then why are things so bad between you and Mom? What did you do to her?" I asked, my voice filled with worry.
"Well, it's just..." He trailed off as his phone buzzed.
"Just a minute, it's important," he said, walking out to take the call.
I sat there, feeling the weight of everything. We were talking about something serious, but he just walked away. I didn't know when he'd start prioritizing us over his work.
He came back in a few minutes, grabbing his blazer. "I've got a meeting. We'll talk later," he said hurriedly before rushing out to his car.
Frustration welled up inside me. I went to Mom's room, my hand raised to knock, but I hesitated and turned toward my own room instead.
I dropped my things on the floor and collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Just yesterday, everything had been beautiful with Prem. Now, it felt like life was forcing me into situations I couldn't control.
The phone rang, its glow cutting through the dim room. I picked it up and saw Indu's name flashing on the screen.
"Hey, did you reach home? How's everything?" Her voice was filled with concern.
"Yeah..." I trailed off, letting the silence hang between us. Indu didn't push me to speak. She knew I needed a moment.
"Okay, Arav," she finally said. "Let's meet at our usual spot. Come over when you can." She hung up before I could respond.
I went to Mom's room again, knocked softly, and opened the door. She was sitting on the bed, flipping through an old photo album. I joined her quietly, watching her face brighten as she looked at pictures of me as a three-year-old. But then, her expression changed, and a tear slipped down her cheek. Without thinking, I hugged her tightly.
"Arav," she whispered, "I always go back to when you were three. Life was so good back then. We didn't have much money, but we had happiness. Now, we have plenty of money, but sometimes I feel like I've lost my family."
"Amma, you still have me," I said softly. "Isn't that enough?"
She smiled weakly, cupping my face in her hands. "If I'm alive, it's because of you, Arav. But I worry about you. You don't know the world yet. I just want to protect you from everything."
"Nothing's going to happen, Amma. Don't worry," I said, squeezing her hands gently.
She smiled again. "To me, you're still that three-year-old boy."
"If everything had gone the way you and Dad planned, I'd already have a wife by now. And you're saying I'm still a child?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.
She chuckled softly. "Just like when you were little, always running away when we tried to catch you. And look, you did the same thing now."
We both laughed together, a rare moment of peace.
"Where were you, Arav?" Mom's voice grew serious again.
"I've been on one of the Lakshadweep Islands." I was about to explain more, but her phone rang. Her personal assistant was calling.
"Alright, Arav," she said, "I have a meeting with the investors. We'll talk later." She hurried into the washroom to prepare.
I went into the living room, scrolling through my phone absentmindedly. A few minutes later, I saw Mom emerge from her room, her face a mask of calm, her emotions tucked away like they had never existed. She looked focused, determined, just like Dad. When it came to work, they were so much alike—perhaps that's why they'd fallen in love in the first place. But now, I couldn't see any of that love anymore.