20. Thank you.

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ABHISHEK

"What?!" Kiara and Rohan exclaimed in unison.

Shock looked like an understatement right now.

"And Ro, did you just call me 'chick'?" Zaisha asked. Disbelief written all over her face.

"But... but.. how?" Rohan asked, still comprehending the fact that the 'Aish chick' turned out to be his mom.

"Exactly! How can you be Aish, mom? I've never heard dad calling you Aish! He's always called you Zaisha or Zee or babe. I've never heard anyone calling you Aish!" Kiara reasoned.

"Well, Abhay called me Aish once upon a time and then he changed to Zee, 'cuz everyone called me Aish and he wanted to call me something different. There was a time when everyone called me Aish, but then they again shifted to Aishi, my previous nickname." Zaisha shrugged, sitting on one of the couches.

"Oh yeah! Aishi- Aish." Kiara said, facepalming herself.

"And you! Didn't we decide that we'd tell them our love story on our anniversary?" Zaisha asked, glaring at me.

"They found your letter and bugged me about it." I said, surrendering my arms.

"My letter?"

I showed her the letter which was still in my hand.

"Mr. Crush-" I started reading.

"Okay. Okay. I got it. Stop." Zaisha said. Her cheeks were flushed red. Was it blush or embarrassment?

"So wait!" Kiara spoke.

"That means you didn't leave Aish- I mean mom?" She asked, confused.

"She's sitting right here, Kia!" I chuckled.

"What happened then? Continue the story, dad!" This time, Rohan said.

He looked so impatient that I couldn't help myself from laughing.

"Dad, continue." He groaned.

"Okay, little one." I replied.


{Back to the past}

"Aish!" I called her out once I reached home.

On receiving no response, I called her out again.

No response yet again.

I walked to our room where I last saw her before getting out of the house.

Broken vase, pile of torn papers, glass pieces, her broken mobile, cosmetics, clothes were all scattered around the room.

I was doing fine that was until I saw blood on the floor too.

Panic rushed into me.

"Aish." I called out again; nervously.

There was a pool of blood on a bunch of broken glasses.

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