It was late in the afternoon when the doorbell rang. "Open the door, Abeer," I murmured sleepily from the dining table where I was perched on the chair, staring blindly at my laptop screen, trying to make head and tail of the words blurring by.

"Why are you so sleepy today?" Abeer asked from the couch, shutting his file close as he got up to answer the door.

"Because its a Sunday and I cleaned the house yesterday and I have a ton of work to do which I don't want to do," I whined, stretching my arms in the air. He shook his head at my listlessness and strode ahead towards the door in his grey sweatpants and black t-shirt. I tilted my head, staring at his backside.

"Hmm...cute," I muttered appreciatively, leaning on the table as I continued to stare.

"Stop that," I heard him growl from up ahead, making me grin wickedly.

"And stop grinning," he said, his back facing me. The grin dropped from my face as I blinked, trying to figure out how did he figure that out. My drowsy head refused to co-operate in my quest of trying to figure out how did he know I was grinning behind his back, without once turning to see me.

"How did you do that?" I asked loudly.

"How did I do what?" He answered, his hand on the latch of the door.

"Know that I was staring and then grinning behind your back," I blinked again, trying hard to not fall flat on the table under me. He turned around and stared at me for a good minute, and then shook his head, exasperated.

"Just go to sleep. You won't get anything done, its useless to try," he muttered and swung open the door. "You are simply going to stare at the laptop screen and-" he stopped abruptly as he turned around to see the person at the door.

"Who is it? Abeer?" I called out to him sleepily, since he was standing at the door, blocking the entrance.

"What is he doing here?" A very angry, female shriek followed my query as I almost toppled over the chair.

"M...Mom?" I squeaked, stumbling out of the chair, the sleepiness evaporating in less than a minute. I almost ran to the door to see my parents with luggage bags in their hands, identical frowns and displeasure gracing their faces. I rubbed my eyes to get a better look at them. Yes, definitely my birth-givers.

"What is he doing here?" My mother asked again, her eyes not leaving Abeer's face. Abeer had resolved to look at the floor, finding the plain marble flooring particularly interesting than the conversation before him.

"He is my boyfriend, mom. We were just doing our own individual office work together," I sighed as my mother winced at the word 'boyfriend'.

"You can't do your individual work together. That defies the basis of the term 'individual work'", my father quipped, avoiding to look at Abeer's large form as far as possible. Irritation bubbled within me as I frowned lightly.

"We were doing our work. Together. Look inside if you want," I said, motioning to the house. "And it is possible to - wait, how does it matter what we were doing? The main question is, what are you doing here?" I asked, planting my hands on my waist as my frown deepened. Abeer looked up, curiosity in his eyes as he regarded my parents.

Satisfaction brimmed within me as embarrassment rose up their cheeks, and they looked almost sheepish. Almost. But the very next moment my mother snapped, her previous debating self back.

"Why, we can't come to meet our only daughter? Is this what we have been reduced to?" She raised her eyebrows, daring me to say something. Anything. It was one of her skills. Twisting any of my words to her desired result and making me the villain, and then getting the right to berate me left, right and center. I didn't reply anything, simply turning to my father who I knew wasn't prone to such theatrics as his wife.

I stared up at him as he shifted on his feet, certainly uncomfortable under my scrutiny. But he did not break. "Uhh...ahem...your mother is right. We came to see you, of course," he said in a steady voice, and I would have believed him if he hadn't refused to look into my eyes, he just stared right above my head.

But I relented, figuring there would be more time for interrogation later. "Now, don't you care for your parents' poor legs? You want us to stand outside all day?" Mom taunted, motioning to the two of them standing with their bags in their hands. I almost rolled my eyes.

I flashed her a fake smile. "Of course not, this is your house. You do not need permission to come in, mom," I deadpanned, looking at them with the most 'duh' expression I could manage.

"Ahh...what can we say, you can't be fully sure about this generation," mom commented as she strode in, leaving the bags in the doorway.

I stared at the bags, and then at her retreating back, and finally at Abeer who was already halfway there to pick up their bags. I sighed, shook my head and silently went to help him.

"Aashi, get us a glass of water, no?" My mother spoke up as the two of us entered to see them seated comfortably on the sofa, her more at ease than my father. My father looked so ill at ease that I wondered what had my mother threatened him with to get him here. I strode to the kitchen wordlessly, leaving Abeer alone in the lion's den.

"So...how are you?" I could hear my father ask Abeer when I was in the kitchen, filling the water goblets from the mud pot.

"What? Oh...I...I'm good, sir," Abeer cleared his throat as he fumbled with his words.

I could imagine my father nodding sagely and looking down at his feet, trying to cover up the sheer awkwardness of the situation. I went out in the living room with two water glasses and handed them over, glancing over at Abeer to see relief flooding over his tense features at my arrival. Despite myself, I bit back a giggle.

The two of them set the glasses down on the tea table with a clink, and that was the only sound that was made for an entire minute in the room. And then Abeer coughed daintily, and looked over at me.

From the corner of my eye, I saw my mother nudge my father sharply in the chest as Abeer began to say, "So... I should probably-"

"How is your work?" Papa asked abruptly, cutting Abeer mid-sentence. I frowned at their antics. What were they up to?

"Um...fine sir, really good. I...uhh..." poor Abeer looked at me and then at my father, trying to figure his way out of this situation. But I was as lost as him.

"And what post do you enjoy in your firm?" Papa asked, more confidently now that he wasn't thrown under the bus.

"I'm directly under the department head, sir."

He nodded. "And your qualifications are?"

"Oh!" Abeer exclaimed, looking mildly surprised that they didn't already know that about him. "I'm a CS and MBA from IIM Bangalore, sir," he said, the nervousness slightly fading from his voice.

My father frowned up at him. "Why MBA? LLB is better with CS. Its focusing on a singular path."

What I saw afterwards shocked me. Abeer almost smiled at my father's statement. Smiled! "It is generally said LLB goes better with CS; to be honest I have heard this a lot from a lot of people. But MBA gave me a well-rounded experience and knowledge about the corporate world, it also taught me a lot about general management. And-"

"Why are you standing? Sit down and talk," my mother spoke and motioned him to the empty chair beside my father. Abeer smiled gratefully at my mother and sat down. My father shifted towards him, all eager to hear Abeer's view over what was better according to him.

And as for me, I continued to stare at the scene before me, my eyes wide. And then, as I saw my father and Abeer talk about the inner workings of MBA and the corporate world, my mother nodding occasionally and adding onto the conversation in bits and pieces, I knew what this was about.

Tears blurred my vision as I let out an involuntary 'Oh', making the three of them look at me.

"Aashi?" I heard the three of them call out to me, they looked at each other as they did so. A short laugh escaped my lips at that and more tears poured down cheeks.

"What happened?" Abeer asked, worried. I shook my head violently, but I couldn't contain myself any longer. I covered the distance between my parents and me in two strides and flung my arms around them.

"Oh mom! Oh papa! You are the best parents in the world," I sobbed on my mother's shoulder, not letting them go.

"Aashi, what is this?" My mother tried to sound stern, but anyone could tell she was faking it. After a while, she patted my back with firm but loving slaps, making me dig my head deeper in her neck. I looked over her shoulder to witness the most tender expression I had ever seen on my father's face. My heart melted like butter.

"Aashi?" Abeer asked, looking from one person to another, trying to understand the sudden change in the events. I laughed in my mother's shoulder and got up, sniffing as I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.

"How soon do you think your sisters and dad can get here?" I asked, smiling ear to ear as I beheld his confused face.

Abeer's frown deepened. "My family? Why?" He looked at my parents and then back at me.

"I don't think my parents would agree to marriage without meeting your family, Abeer," I commented, and slid down to sit in between my parents. His eyebrows hopped up in surprise.

"We haven't agreed to any marriage till now!" My mother blurted from my left anxiously. I ignored her, smiling down at Abeer.

"Marriage... what? I... are you sure? Sir, I..." Abeer tried to speak, but words failed him. He looked at my parents, trying to catch any hint of actual objection from the two of them. They both remained silent. His eyes widened as he digested the news.

"I... I..." he tried again, but failed miserably.

My father stood up, forcing Abeer to his own feet. Papa stared straight into his eyes, his face hard. "We won't tolerate anything less than complete devotion to our daughter from her life partner. If you can't manage that, leave now," he said, his voice dangerously low and clear.

Abeer gulped, but didn't look away. "I understand, sir. I don't plan on offering anything less than complete devotion to her." My father stared at him for a full minute before nodding curtly.

"We expect your family to be here by next week. We need to discuss things with them," papa said and went to retrieve the newspaper from under the TV set.

"But how will his sisters...?" I started worriedly.

"That's no problem. They have a tourist visa for ten years," Abeer said absentmindedly, still dazed at the turn of events that had taken place that very afternoon.

"Good, now you can leave. We will see you next week," my mother said, getting up from the sofa and walking to their room.

"Mom!" I called out, offended at how she had spoken to Abeer. But when I looked over to Abeer, he had the silliest smile on his face, he was unable to contain his happiness. He didn't pay attention to anything else, took his things and flashed me a deliriously happy smile, and walked out of the house, closing the door behind him.

I didn't realize I was still smiling at the closed door till my mother called out to me from her room, muttering something about misplaced bed coverings and stuff. I was in a cocoon of happiness to notice anything else.

I hadn't imagined my life like this. I hadn't imagined love in my life. But now, after everything, I felt as if I knew love from a long time. I just hadn't met him.

But now I had, in the form of Abeer. But it wasn't that fact which made me happy right now. It was the knowledge that I didn't have to give that up, neither now nor ever. I could have my fantasy and turn it into my reality.

I could have my Abeer, now and forever.

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