Page 190 of One Hellish Desire

I've never loved shopping, but every year, I accompany Mom to buy gifts for Dad’s birthday. This time, since we're in India, Mom wants to buy some traditional outfits for Dad. She rarely sees him in one these days. While she talks to the designer, I quickly text Maahi to check if she and Daadi are on their way to the store.

“Vikram,” Mom interrupts, and I shift my attention to her.

“You look busy. Do you have other work to do?”

“No, I don’t.” I love it when Mom shows concern for my work schedule. “I was just checking a few emails. What happened? Did you decide what to buy?”

“Yes,” she grins. “I want to see Vanraj in a Sherwani. He loves maroon, so I asked the designer to show me some in that color. Hope he likes it.”

I smirk at her excitement. “Dad will love whatever you buy, Mom. He loves you too much to ignore any of your gifts.”

“Well, that’s true.”

We both laugh, then Mom becomes serious.

“After this, let’s go to the women’s store.”

“Sure,” I nod.

“I want to buy something for Maahi too. Will you help me with her choices?”

Mom wants to buy something for Maahi? That’s a first! I watch her with an amused expression, and she knows why.

“Don’t look at me like that. I never got her anything. She’s the only one left in the family whom I never gifted.”

“Family?” I interrupt, grinning. “So, you take Maahi as a part of our family now?”

Mom sighs.

“Let me check why the designer is taking so long,” she tries to divert the subject, but I don’t let her walk away.

“Mom,” I clutch her elbow. “I just asked you something.”

She gives me an exasperated look and then sighs. “She was always family, Vikram. Just that I never considered her one. To be honest, I really appreciate how she has always cared for your grandmother and stayed with her through thick and thin.”

I smile, nodding in agreement. “Remember when Maa got sick last time Dad and I came here?”

I recall that incident. Dad had argued with Daadi about the Devki Estate, and she fell sick. Maahi was so worried then. Those were the days when I was deeply, madly attracted to her.

“I remember,” I say to Mom, who lets out a soft chuckle.

“The way Maahi fought with us, showing her right on Maa, annoyed me at first. But it also made me realize this is exactly what I wanted to do for Maa… to defend her in times of need, to stand up for her.”

I swallow painfully, knowing how Mom and Daadi’s relationship is still a painful subject for her.

“I saw Junior Meera Singh Grover in Maahi that day. If Maa and my relationship had been like the one she has with Maahi, I would do the same for Maa which Maahi did that day.”

Tears glisten her eyes, which I gently wipe away.

“What are you going to do about Daadi and your relationship now?” I ask, curious.

She shrugs. “Your dad told me she’s showing interest in staying in the US with all of us. I would like that too. We’ve already pushed her into solitude. I’ve felt that pain, Vikram. The pain a mother undergoes when her son walks out of her life.”

“Mom,” I interrupt, wanting to justify that I never left her, but she stops me from speaking.

“I know your intentions weren’t wrong, but I still felt that pain, Vikram. And I’m glad I did. Otherwise, I would never know what Maa went through all these years alone, without us.”

Mom touches my cheeks.

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