The Ruined Rainbow

CHAPTER 92

A/N: It has been a while since I posted short chapters (3800 words); please bear with me as I navigate this month. 

Ayesha

Sahil froze at the entrance near the door, staring at his parents with no emotion. 

The jacket slipped from his hand, creating a soft thud on the floor. His parents stared back at him, their eyes filled with hope and apprehension. The air buzzed with unspoken tension as his parents, a portrait of hope and anxiety, held their gaze on their son.

His mother took a tentative step forward, her anticipation palpable. Yet, Sahil missed the moment as he, caught in a whirlwind of emotions, spun around to lock eyes with me, his gaze sharp.

"What is this?" Sahil's silent question hung in the air, his eyes blazing with an unspoken anger. 

I swallowed hard, my voice steadying beneath the surface of the charged room.

"Sahil, meet your parents. They want to tell you something," I whispered, the words punctuating the silence like a hesitant heartbeat.

Jaya's hand extended, tears in her eyes, a fragile bridge between a decade of separation, while Adesh stood rooted, his face etched with the weight of unspoken words of regret and longing.

Still locked in a gaze with me, Sahil seemed torn between the past and present. The room, silent except for the ticking clock, held its breath, awaiting the storm that lingered in Sahil's eyes. He slowly turned around to face his parents.

"Son," Jaya implored slowly, her voice carrying a vulnerability not present earlier that afternoon, "Please listen to us. We have made mistakes; please let us rectify them. Don't let your anger come between us; please listen to me."

Sahil's eyes softened, but his features didn't change. 

Adesh remained silent, his gaze fixated on the tiles beneath him, an awkward weight in the room.

After a prolonged moment, Sahil gave a quiet nod.

That was my cue to leave.

Sensing the delicate nature of the moment, I quietly excused myself, leaving the trio to confront the complexities of their shared history.

******

A sinking realisation struck me when I shut the door to Sahil's apartment—I had left my mobile phone on the kitchen counter. 

Faced with limited options, I resigned myself to wait on the staircase. I considered descending and hailing a taxi but dismissed it instead of remaining upstairs. As I approached the eleventh-floor staircase, I couldn't help but notice the terrace door slightly ajar.

Sahil resided on the eleventh floor of a sprawling apartment building in Juhu, enjoying the luxury of having the entire floor himself. Despite his expansive verandah, the concept of a terrace had never crossed my mind during my time in Sahil's abode. In hindsight, it seemed pretty evident and dumb of me, yet the requirement for a terrace never really had crossed my mind.

The terrace door creaked open as I approached, uncertainty lingering in my mind. Despite knowing Sahil for four years, I had never ventured onto the terrace of his apartment. I half-expected to find it already occupied, but to my surprise, it stood empty.

Another bizarre sight awaited me—half of the terrace, connected to the entrance, was shrouded in darkness while the other half gleamed under lights. The lights in the dim half were switched on, yet they emitted no glow. I brushed it off as a mere electrical glitch.