Page 27

Story: The Deceit

“It wasn’t easy,” he begins, reminiscing the old wounds. “When I saw you for the first time, a four-year-old boy standing before me… God, I couldn’t believe it. It was like everything froze around me. I had just met your mother, Vandita, after nearly five years of her disappearing from my life. And then, out of nowhere, there you were—my son.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, absorbing his words. His pain mirrors mine in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

“My first thought was that she betrayed me,” he continues, his voice raw with memories. “I was furious. How could she do this? How could she keep you hidden from me? I wanted to hate her for it. I wanted to unleash every bit of anger I had on her. But… but I just couldn’t. No matter how much it pained me, I knew, deep down, that I still loved her. I could never truly hurt the woman I loved, even if she had deceived me in the worst possible way.”

After another pause, he continues, “No matter what she did, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her. So, I had no choice but to forgive her,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “It took time… but I did. I forgave her. Because love… love doesn’t come with conditions. I couldn’t turn my back on either of you. And knowing I had a son...” His words trail off, and I can hear him take a shaky breath. “I was overwhelmed, Vishnu. I couldn’t think straight for days. Nights were even worse. I would lie awake, wondering what your life had been like without me. Wondering how the hell I didn’t know. You were there all along with her, and I had no idea.”

Each word hits me like a blow. I feel every ounce of his pain, every bit of his regret. Tears stream down my face as I listen.

“I was haunted by it, son. It was the most horrifying chapter of my life,” he admits, his voice cracking. “Not just because I lost those precious time with you, but because I couldn’t give you what you needed the most—a father’s name, his protection. And then, for years, I couldn’t even acknowledge you publicly. That was the worst pain I’ve ever felt. You have no idea how much I regret that, Vishnu. I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

The raw honesty in his voice breaks something inside me. A sob escapes my lips before I can stop it.

“Vishnu?” His voice is alarmed now, and I know he can sense something more behind my words. “Vishnu, what’s going on?”

I take a deep, shuddering breath and clear my throat, trying to push the emotion down, trying to regain control.

“I just… I get what you went through.”

“You’re not telling me everything,” he says, his tone low and steady. “You aren’t making sense, son. This isn’t just about a dream, is it?”

I close my eyes, steeling myself.

“Dad, it’s nothing. After that dream… I just... I needed to hear your voice. To understand what you went through. That’s all,” I lie, the words coming out in a tangled whisper.

There’s a long silence, and I can almost hear the gears turning in my father’s mind. When he speaks again, his voice is gentle but firm.

“Alright. I know you are hiding something from me, Vishnu. Despite how close we have become over the past year, you are still painfully private with your emotions. But I trust you’ll tell me when the time is right. Whatever it is, son, remember, you’re not alone. I’m here for you. Always.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. His words wrap around me like a warm embrace, offering comfort even as they intensify my guilt.

“I know, Dad,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

“Come home soon,” he says. “We’ll talk properly then.”

As I end the call, I’m left with a swirling mix of emotions. The pain and betrayal are still there, but now, there’s something else too. My mind is much more clearer than what it’s been since I discovered Veer’s existence.

I push myself up from the floor, careful to avoid the broken glass. My head is pounding, but I walk to the window and gaze at the New York skyline. The city lights blur through my tears, but for the first time since this nightmare began, I feel a sense of resolve.

I catch sight of my reflection in the window. The man staring back at me is battered—with red-rimmed eyes and face haunted by the betrayal. But there’s a strength there too, a determination to right the wrong.

I am Vishnu Walia, son of Pratap Walia. And now, father to Veer. The cycle of secrecy and pain ends with me. Whatever it takes, whatever battles I must fight, I will give my son the love, the recognition, and the hands-on attention that my child deserves. I’ll be the kind of father that‘Veer Vishnu Walia’deserves!

CHAPTER 8

SIMRAN

I sit on the edge of the couch, my eyes fixed on Veer as he plays in his crib, blissfully oblivious to the storm that just tore through our lives. His tiny fingers grasp the colourful toys, and his innocent laughter fills the room, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside me. I can barely breathe as I think about what just happened, my mind replaying the moment Vishnu’s world came crashing down when he found out the truth.

How could I have been so blind, so selfish to think I could keep this from him forever? The look in his eyes when he realised that Veer was his son—it was like watching something delicate and beautiful shatter into a million tiny pieces. His anger was a force of nature, terrifying in its intensity, and it hit me with every word, every accusation he hurled at me. My hands still tremble as I think about it.

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even find the words to defend myself, to explain why I did what I did. Not that he would have listened. Not that it would have made any difference. The truth is, I have betrayed him in the worst possible way. I close my eyes, trying to block out the guilt, but it only makes it more vivid and real.

I glance at Veer again, watching as he babbles to himself, lost in his own world. How could I put him through this? How could I allow history to repeat itself, knowing what Vishnu had gone through in his own childhood? He’d told me once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, about his pain—about growing up without a father—about being the child his father never acknowledged. And yet, I did the same thing to both Veer and Vishnu.

As I watch Veer, his tiny hands clutching a colourful rattle, my mind drifts back to that morning, eighteen months ago. The morning after Vishnu and I had finally given in to our desires, our bodies coming together in a passionate, unforgettable night.

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