Page 136
Story: The Deceit
His words settle over the room like a comforting embrace.
Suddenly, Dad’s expression grows more serious. He looks at Vishnu with eyes full of remorse, and my heart clenches at what I see there.
“Now that you both are here, there’s something else I need to say too.”
Vishnu and I both look at him, confused, wondering what he wants to share.
“I am sorry, Vishnu,” Dad says suddenly.
“Dad?” Vishnu tries to interrupt, to stop the apology, but Dad raises his hand, silencing him gently.
“Let me finish, Vishnu.”
Vishnu stiffens but nods, allowing Dad to continue.
“I am sorry because, in all these years, I failed to see you as an individual. That you, too, had your own life to lead,” he says, his voice wavering slightly. “I always kept you busy in my world, with my roles and responsibilities, never once giving you your own time and personal space... space that could have helped you focus on your own needs. If I had, then maybe all this confusion could have been avoided.”
My heart aches as I watch the pain flicker across both their faces. Dad’s words come faster now, as if he’s been holding them back for too long.
“Knowingly or unknowingly, I got you so involved in my political career, kept you so close to me, thinking I was doing what was best for us. But in doing so, I lost sight of what you needed. I forgot you had your own life to live, your own dreams to chase—things like wanting to settle down, find love, build your own family.”
He pauses, swallowing hard. “I always assumed that when you found someone special, you’d tell me. But I didn’t realise... I didn’t give you the space to even look for that person.”
I feel Vishnu trembling slightly beside me as Dad continues, “So whatever has happened between Simran and you so far, it is my fault. Maybe if I’d stepped back—if I’d let you live your own life instead of always tying you to mine—if I’d given you that freedom, you would’ve realised what you truly wanted a lot sooner.” He looks between us, his eyes glistening. “Maybe you would’ve recognised your feelings for Simran earlier... and could have chased her all the way back to New York months ago. Maybe then Simran wouldn’t have been this confused and worried about what sacrifices she would have to make. I regret that... with all my heart.”
Vishnu places a hand on his father’s shoulder.
“Dad, you don’t have to apologise. I’ve never regretted being by your side. You taught me everything I know about loyalty, strength, and responsibility. If anything, it’s because of you that I’m the man I am today.”
Dad’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he pulls Vishnu into a tight embrace.
“You’re a better man than I ever was. I’ve always told you that, and I’ll say it again. I’m proud of you, Vishnu. So proud.”
The sight of them together like this stirs something deep in my heart. As they pull apart, I try to make the moment a bit lighter. I glance at Vishnu, who’s now watching me again.
“Why is it that these days you’re always overhearing my conversations with the family? First in the kitchen with Meher and Devika, and now with Dad?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
He reaches for my hand, and I rise from the sofa to stand beside him, letting him pull me to his side. His fingers intertwine with mine, grounding me.
“What can I say... I don’t want to miss my wife’s best moments.”
His words hit me right in the heart, making it hard to fight the tears threatening to return. Dad watches us with knowing eyes, his eyes twinkling with quiet satisfaction.
“Simran, did you see that?” he says with a proud smile. “It’s not just me who has changed... it’s my son too. All thanks to you. He has never been this good with one-liners before, especially romantic ones.”
I blush, feeling a little flustered by the praise.
“You’re both giving me way too much credit,” I say, though my heart swells with pride.
Standing here between these two men who have become so important in my life, I realise how beautifully things have fallen into place. All my earlier worries have melted away. I’m truly a part of the Walias now. The walls I’d built around myself—the fear of not belonging, the doubt of ever fitting into a family like this—have now collapsed. This is my family, my home, my happiness, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
VISHNU
Three days have passed since Ayaan shared that disturbing information about the mental asylum incident involving Jack. Tonight, I’m supposed to receive the patient list that might finally give us some clues about the masked man. But right now, I have a more pressing crisis to handle—preventing my son from turning into a tiny hair-pulling tyrant.
A sharp cry pierces the air, and I immediately spring into action, scooping Veer away from Avika. My little troublemaker has recently discovered the joy of tormenting his slightly older cousin, particularly by yanking on her pigtails. Veer’s giggles fill the room as poor Avika lets out a painful wail.
“Veer,” I say, lifting him to eye level with a mock stern expression. “What did I say about being gentle with Avika?”
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