"We can go back. It isn't necessary that we speak right away, is it?" I chuckled nervously as I stared at the dark mahogany door before me, the swastiks and 'shubh labh' pasted on the door mocking me as I tried to gulp down the building anxiety. Abeer rolled his eyes at me.

"You were the one who booked the tickets for today, didn't you?" He raised his brows and stared me down, making me wince.

"I'm foolish. I have always been foolish. Plus, I booked the tickets at 3 AM in the morning with a sleep-deprived head. Surely such decisions don't count, do they?"

"You said you made the decision to marry me at 3 AM. That doesn't count then?" Abeer said dryly, leaning against the wall. I didn't say anything and simply stared at the door to my parents house. The door when opened would change everything. We had flown down to Mumbai after the proposal yesterday. I had booked the tickets to Mumbai the very night I had decided to marry Abeer. It had felt romantic then; it felt downright foolish now.

"Do you really want to marry me?" I suddenly asked, whipping my head to face Abeer. He closed his eyes in exasperation.

"Yes," he opened his eyes and stared intently at me. I nodded sagely.

"And you still would like to after you discover what a mayhem you're marrying into?" I looked up at him with the most innocent look on my face, making him purse his lips. He looked close to strangulation.

"Yes," he bit out, clearly struggling to keep his temper in check.

I nodded again. "Then you're a fool."

H exhaled loudly but did not say anything. "I think we should leave. I don't even think they might be in there. I mean, its 11AM and at that time they do...something. Its basically not the right - " I started in an over-excited voice and turned to leave when Abeer grabbed me by my arm and glared at me crossly.

"Aashi Singhania, we're ringing the doorbell now! No excuses, no chickening out, nothing other than meeting your parents and convincing them."

I pouted at him and flashed him the cutest look I could manage. It had worked wonders all these years. Heck, even my mother had relented to quite a few things because of it. My father fled the place when I had that look in my eyes, knowing he would acquiesce to anything under the influence of that. Surely there was no one who could resist that? Unless apparently Abeer. I grumbled under my breath about him being a cold-hearted Bengali man as he pulled me beside him and nudged to ring the bell.

"Aashi," he said gently. "Do it," he smiled at me and nodded. I sighed loudly and rang the doorbell.

Ting Tong.

We stood with bated breath as the ring of the bell sounded in the house, heralding our arrival. I clenched and unclenched my fist as the two of us waited in pin drop silence. And then it happened. The mahogany door swung open, revealing my mother on the opposite side, with a cooking spoon in her hand. Her mouth opened to say something but nothing came out as she stared at me, her chin slack and eyes wide with surprise.

"Mom," I managed a crooked smile to go with the over-zealous 'mom' I had uttered. Her jaw dropped, she pursed her lips as she continued to stare at me, condemning my very existence with a single look of hers. I kept the forced smile plastered on my face.

"Who has come?" My father asked from behind, seated on his chair with the newspaper pulled open on his lap.

"Look for yourself," mom bit out and made way for my father to see the two of us standing on the perch, looking absolutely uncomfortable and weirdly out of place.

"Aashi," my father said quietly as he stood up and crossed the room to where our trio stood, his face grave. I swallowed. My father had never once greeted me like this in all the years gone by. He always had a smile, or just the excitement in his eyes was enough to show how pleased he was to see his daughter back home. Today, he simply stood there gazing at me intently.

Without thinking, I burst out, my face scrunched up with remorse as I implored to my parents. "I'm sorry papa! Mom, I'm sorry for saying all that. It was...it was very rude of me. I shouldn't have spoken so disrespectfully with you both. I'm sorry!"

Nobody said anything for a minute, after which my dad spoke up quietly. "Hadn't I told you, Aruna? Our Aashi is not like that. Once she realises her mistake, she would come down to apologize for her actions," my mother nodded with a smile as my father stepped forward to engulf me in a hug. I leapt in his arms and cried. There was nothing more wholesome than a father's embrace for a daughter. It was the purest form of love. My mother patted my back lovingly as I kept murmuring ineligible words, but nobody minded that. I stayed like that for a while till my mother spoke up, waking me up from my reverie.

"You're the same guy from that day, aren't you? The one who had come up to give the file to Aashi when Dhruv's family was there?" She questioned, her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

His jaw clenched at Dhruv's name and he nodded in affirmative. I looked up from my father's embrace and locked my eyes with his, swallowing when I saw the faint doubt in those hazel orbs. I nodded feebly and broke apart from my father, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.

"What is he doing here, beta?" My father questioned me, his brows furrowed.

Both of them stared at Abeer, confusion gracing their faces. I stepped away from my parents and backed to stand beside Abeer, taking his large hand in my small one. I could feel their eyes burning holes at our entwined hands, but I was determined. Abeer pressed my hand back, signalling his support.

I inhaled and looked up straight into my parents eyes. "Abeer is not my friend. Or my colleague. We're not doing any project together. I..." I inhaled again and squared my shoulders. "I love him. And I want to marry him."

And once I had started, there was no holding me back. "And that night, when you had thought I had been with Dhruv? I wasn't alone; I was with someone. I was with Abeer. We were stranded on our way home and had to stay in a hotel."

Silence. Loud, impenetrable silence.

"Have you gone mad? You idiot, what were you thinking?" My mother screamed, rage written all over her face. I winced at the sudden outburst, but apart from that, I didn't do anything. I planted my feet firmly in the corridor, afraid if I lost the nerve, I would either run away or make up another lie. I wanted to do neither of that.

My mother frantically looked outside the house and then pulled us in, banging the door shut.

"What were you thinking? Making your nonsensical declarations of love outside. What if someone had heard you?" Mom glared angrily at me.

"I really do love him, mom. And I do want to marry him," I repeated, imploring to her. My mother hit her head with her hand, disgust written on her face.

"This is why I was telling you not to send her to Delhi alone. See what she has done now. See!" Mom hissed at my father, and turned to glare at the two of us.

"Does he have a stable job?" My father asked quietly, staring at the two of us calculatively.

"Have you gone insane like your daughter? What are you thinking?" My mother bellowed, making Abeer wince beside me.

"I'm thinking that we have only one daughter. And we know that she has never done something like this. So I'm getting to know this boy. If he's acceptable, then I don't see a problem," my father said, looking down at my mother. A glimmer of hope burst in my heart at my father's words.

"And what of the relatives? What do we say to them? That our daughter had a love marriage?" Mother spat, closing her eyes in despair.

"We can surely pass it on as an arranged marriage," my father spoke, and then he sighed. "Times are changing, Aruna. We should be thankful that she is at least telling us about it," my father said gently, to which my mother only pursed her lips.

"Do you have a stable job?" My father stared at Abeer with a steady gaze.They both were almost of the same height, Abeer only having an inch over him. He squared his shoulders and stared back at him, confidently.

"Yes sir, I do."

"What is your income? Will you be able to support your family without Aashi's money too?"

"Yes, I'm sure I'm capable of that," Abeer said, his voice unwavering. A small smile graced my face as I heard the exchange.

"Who all do you have in your family?"

Abeer gulped and then answered. "There's my father and my two elder sisters. Both of them are married and settled in Canada." The glimmer of hope widened, engulfing my heart.

My father nodded. "And are you Marwari?" At this point, my mother looked up too, waiting for Abeer's answer. The bubble of hope broke as Abeer looked at me, appearing as apprehensive as I was.

He shook his head in negative. The corners of my mother's mouth fell down. "Gujarati then? Or Jain?" She inquired.

Abeer gulped, and shook his head. "No, I...ahem...I'm Bengali."

Silence ensued at Abeer's declaration.

"What is this, Aashi? He's not from our community! Did you really think while coming down here, that we will approve of this boy?" My mother spat angrily, disappointment glimmering in her eyes.

"We won't agree to this," my father said firmly, the first flickers of anger eminent in his eyes.

"Papa...really, is it so bad to be Bengali? Or from any other community? Why is it such a problem? He's a nice, decent guy from a decent family who loves me! Who values me! Why is it so hard to accept that?" I said, tears in my eyes.

"Are you pregnant?" My mother hissed as she closed the distance between us, grabbing me tightly by my arm.

I was completely thrown off by her question. "What...WHAT?"

"You said you spent the night with...him. Are you pregnant? Say something, you idiot!" She shouted when I remained silent.

"What...NO! Mom! What kind of question is that? How dare you?" I screeched, shrugging her hand off my arm angrily.

"Then why are you marrying him?" She screeched equally loudly, not backing down.

"Because I want to! I said earlier, he loves me. I love him!" This conversation was getting nonsensical with each passing second.

"And dare not say anything about Abeer wanting your money. He doesn't need anything, do you get me?" I spoke up, my temper flaring.

My mother continued to glare at me, unaffected by my words. I stared right back. "I want to marry him. And no one else. If I don't marry him, there's no one else. Do you hear me? No one!"

"We will discuss this matter with the family," my father spoke up, his tone firm, that left no space for an argument. My eyes widened with worry.

"What is the need to call the family, papa? This is our matter, we will solve this!" I said, fear clearly evident in my voice. If they called the family for a meet, the numbers would rise in their favour. And I was not beyond the thought that they wouldn't hesitate to talk me out of this relationship with Abeer. My father's siblings were all alike in one matter, and that was this. I knew why my father was doing this. Simply refusing me would push me to rebel against them, and he didn't want that. He wanted me to acquiesce to their demands, to submit completely.

"If you want another say in this matter, then this is your only option. Or else this boy leaves right now," he said, staring steadily at me. I squared my shoulders.

"Fine, see you tomorrow then," I said and held Abeer's hand, dragging him out of the house.

"You stay here," my father ground out, not liking the way I had held Abeer's arm.

"No, I'll see you tomorrow," I said firmly and got out before the two of them could say anything else.

"What are you thinking?" Abeer asked once we got out of the building my parents lived in.

I sighed and rubbed my head. "That getting pregnant wasn't a bad option at all."

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