Forever Connected

I'm sorry

AISHA
I woke up with a nauseous stomach at noon no less.
Picking up my phone I saw texts and a missed call from Aadi from over an hour ago.

AADVIK: landed. I'll call you from the cab in a bit.
AADVIK: *missed call*
AADVIK: Isha? Are you sleeping?
AADVIK: call me when you wake up.

I rubbed my eyes and smiled at my phone reading the multiple other texts.
Quickly, I brushed my teeth and woke myself up with my skincare. Dialling his number I went into the kitchen to make my favourite spinach corn sandwiches.

After a couple rings a sleepy figure covered my phone's screen.

He wore no shirt so a little bit of his chest showed when he moved making the comforter slip. He smirked at me checking him out. God, how badly I wanted to wipe that smirk off with a kiss.

"Good morning to you Mrs.Ahuja" his words caused my stomach to churn with butterflies just like always.

"Good night to you Mr.Ahuja." I smiled up at him.

We continued to talk and he laughed yet again when I managed to burn my sandwich after raving about how good of a cook I am. I was a good cook but with Shilpa aunty's help I managed to cook less and less, it's not like I had the time to anyway with the company's sudden boom. I had now gotten out of practice so on days like today when Aunty was on leave a minor burning of food was normal.

After an hour I ended the call because it was very late for him in New York and he had meetings the next day.

I mentally prepared myself to do what I had to do. Driving to that house felt like prison, the last time I went there was on the day of Vedant's engagement and that too to give them the wedding invitation and pickup some important papers for my office.

I parked the car in the driveway and sat there for the next 15 minutes preparing myself for what I was about to do.
Entering the house, I felt the same eeriness I always do. I went straight to the living room where my father always is on Saturdays. Fortunately my father had a rule to never drink on Saturdays making it sure I'd have him sober for this conversation.

He sat there on the sofa, his laptop on the centre table as he focused on the news playing in the TV in front of him.

"Good afternoon, Aisha. Is everything okay? You could've called I would have gotten lunch made for you too." He tried to talk as if everything was normal.

"No. Nothing is okay, Dad" I reminded him in a stern tone.
"Are you or are you not going to drink at the wedding?" I cut to the point.

"As I said, I might." He said with finality and turned back to the news.

"Dad, I told you this that day. If you chose to drink again I am no longer your daughter, did I not?"

"You did." He said with certainty

"Well, I am no longer your daughter. You may come to my wedding but as nothing more than guests." I said.

I know the chances of me regretting my decision are high but I also was done. Done with this weight on my chest of guilt of not being good enough. Not good enough for my dad to stop drinking. Not good enough for my mom to stop criticising my every move and be grateful to have me. I was moving on with a new life and it was time to ridden myself of the guilts of my past. I wanted my parents in my life and at my wedding but not at the cost of this pain.

My dad stood there shook while my mother came into the view from the kitchen behind him.

"Aisha Arora, that is no way to talk to your father! I knew those Ahuja's would make you crazy-"
She ran towards me and showed those eyes wide of anger just like she did when I was a child.