“I need Ved,” she said.
Abhiram frowned. “He just left for basketball practice. I’ll call him on his phone.”
She nodded. But she didn’t sit at the dining table or in the living room. She went towards the bedrooms.
She pushed opened one and shut it again. She opened another one, only to shut it. When she opened the third one and she could smell the citrusy cologne, she stepped inside. She sat on the bed and waited.
My father didn’t leave me. He loves me.
My mother lied that my father didn’t care and chose to abandon me.
She shuddered, recalling what her mother did.Her mother separated a father and daughter. She also drove a wedge between two best friends.
She sucked in a breath.
Ved was right to hate me.
Unknowingly, she had participated in helping her mother falsely blame an innocent man of molesting.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she wiped them away, hoping she would be able to convince the boy she loved more than anything that she hadn’t known about the accusations.
She looked at the bedroom wall in front of her. It was filled with pictures of Ved’s family, especially his mother. She got up and walked towards the wall, her heart aching at seeing the smiling, happy faces whom she hurt with her unknowing lie.
Her eyes then fell on one picture in particular where except for Ved’s mother, no one else was smiling. Her heart began to thump at seeing that Ved and his parents had shaved their heads. Shock and understanding dawned when she saw that Ved’s mother’s baldness was natural.
The bedroom door burst opened, and she turned to see Ved storming in. He stopped short, seeing her face.
“Y-your mother fell sick?” she asked.
Pain flashed through his face as he nodded. “She had cancer. That picture was taken in New York when we relocated there for her treatment.”
“W-when?” she asked, her heart thumping hard. “When did you relocate?”
“A week after my aunt’s birthday party event.”
Oh God.
She now understood why he never answered her phone calls or replied to any of her letters or messages.
“I-I didn’t know,” she said in a trembling voice.
He nodded as he came to her. He hugged her. “I didn’t know either, Sam. I knew about it only when we relocated to New York.”
Her heart thudded as she raised her head to look at him. “Y-you hated me then?” she asked.
He was silent for a long moment. “I was angry, but I didn’t hate you. Not until much later. Not until I called your mother, asking to speak to you when you moved to France.”
“W-what did she say?”
“She told me you were happy without me and made new friends in Paris. She also said if I wanted to be close to you again, I should convince my father to marry her after my mother dies, which she hoped would be soon.”
Oh God.
Her legs wobbled in shock. He held her tightly before swinging her up into his arms and carrying her to his bed.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered as she pleaded for him to believe her. “I swear I didn’t.”
“I know that now, Sam.”