“I’m not worried about that,” I muttered, looking away from the screen.
“Then what is it? You can tell me, Kavya.”
I forced a small, tight smile. “You already have enough on your mind. I don’t want to add to it.”
“That’s not how this works,” he said softly. “Your problems are mine, too.”
His words hit me like a physical blow. My throat tightened, and for a heartbeat, the truth sat on the tip of my tongue.
“Saurav… ” I whispered.
“Hm?”
I opened my mouth, but fear wrapped around my chest like iron chains, stealing my breath. “Nothing,” I said quickly. “I just… I’ll miss you.”
A faint, handsome smile touched his lips. “I’ll miss you more. Take care of yourself and dad while I’m gone. And don’t skip meals like you always do.”
I managed a light scoff. “You won’t be here to check.”
“I don’t need to be there to know what you're doing,” he replied with a smirk.
My eyes softened despite the storm inside me. “Just come back soon.”
“I will,” he said, his expression turning serious. “And when I do… we’re fixing everything. No more lies, okay?”
My heart ached. “Okay,” I nodded, though I knew nothing was ever that simple.
“Good. Now smile properly. I hate seeing you like this.”
I forced a brighter smile, one that was bright enough to convince him, but too hollow to reach my eyes.
“There she is,” he said.
If only he knew how broken that smile really was.
“Goodnight, cutie.”
“Goodnight, handsome.”
The screen went black. I stared at my own reflection for a long time, imagining his face.
I sighed, putting down my phone. I should have talked to Mr. Chauhan, but he had seemed distant lately. I’d been so consumed by my sister’s health that I hadn't made time for him. He looked fragile, as if something were eating him from the inside. Perhaps it was guilt over his wife, or the secrets he kept from his son. I didn’t want to intrude, but I needed to know what was happening behind those tired eyes.
I headed downstairs to find him, but I froze when a sound pierced the silence. It was a sob.
My heart climbed into my throat. I ran toward the backyard, my pulse racing. There, near the rose beds, I found Mr. Chauhan. He wasn't just crying; he was wailing like a wounded animal. It was a loud, devastating sound that broke my heart.
I took a step toward him but hesitated. He was a private man; he might be humiliated to be seen in such a state. Swallowing my own tears, I turned around and quietly retreated to my room, leaving him alone with his grief.
_______
The next morning, everything appeared normal. Mr. Chauhan looked calm and composed, showing no trace of the man who had shattered the night before. I wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but I settled for a smile and polite small talk about his business.
When I mentioned my upcoming dance competition, his face lit up with unexpected joy.
“I don’t think I can do it…” I said, shrugging.
“This is the perfect chance to show the world what you can do. You’re a gifted dancer, Kavya,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Do this for me.”