The aisle of the plane felt narrower than it should have, as if it knew I was leaving one life behind and stepping into another.
No calls.
No chaos.
For once, my mother had let me go without resistance.
Seventeen years.
That's how long it had been since I last saw my father. Long enough for memories to blur, long enough for absence to grow teeth. Yet I knew—deep in my bones—that he loved me.
And I loved him too.
My parents' divorce had been quiet, like a wound that never bled but never healed either. Mom remarried. He didn't. Some loves don't know how to end properly.
The plane landed.
My phone buzzed the second my feet touched the ground.
"Jii, baba. I have reached."
I barely finished typing before the call came through. His voice cracked with excitement, warmth spilling through the speaker like it had been waiting all these years just for me.
Outside the airport, I spotted him instantly.
Older, yes. Lines carved by time and patience. But still handsome in that dignified, devastating way that made my chest ache. His eyes found mine, and his smile broke—wide, proud, trembling.
I ran.
He caught me, arms closing around me like he'd been holding his breath for seventeen years.
"Mera guroor wapas aa gaya," he whispered
(My pride has come back.)
That was the first time I ever saw my father cry.
The car ride home passed in a blur of questions—about my studies, my habits, the things I loved, the things I feared. He wanted to know everything, as if memorizing me in case the universe tried to steal me away again.
I was smiling when my phone buzzed.
Unknown: Welcome home.
A strange pause settled in my chest.
I ignored it.
The mansion rose ahead of us like something out of a dream—tall gates, warm lights, history etched into stone. Inside, everything smelled like my childhood. My favorite flowers. Soft music. Familiar corners touched by care.
"My baby," my father said gently, "go rest. We'll have dinner together."
I hugged him again before heading upstairs.
My room took my breath away.
The room is spacious and elegant, designed in a classic style. The ceiling is high and detailed with decorative molding, which gives the space a grand, old-house feel. There are tall columns that divide the room and add structure without making it feel crowded.
The bed is large and placed centrally, with light-colored bedding and darker accents that balance the room. It looks comfortable and practical, meant for proper rest rather than just decoration. Beside it are wooden side tables with lamps that give off warm, soft light in the evening.
The windows are tall and covered with heavy dark curtains, which help control light and keep the room private. A patterned rug covers most of the floor, adding warmth and tying the furniture together.
There is a seating area with a chair and a dresser or console, making the room functional as well as comfortable. Overall, the room feels well-organized, calm, and thoughtfully designed—luxurious but not overwhelming, and clearly meant to be lived in.
I went in my washroom to take shower
Hot water poured over me, steam curling around my skin, carrying away exhaustion and jet lag. I played music—soft, old melodies—and let myself move. Bare feet on marble. Humming. Laughing quietly.
For the first time in a long while, I felt light.
Wrapped in a towel, hair dripping, I stepped back into my room.
The air was cold.
The curtains swayed slightly.
The window was open.
A shiver ran down my spine, sharp and sudden. Before I could move, my phone buzzed again.
Unknown: Close the window, cherry. It's cold outside.
My heart stopped.
The room felt smaller. Warmer. Charged.
Fuck
Cherry
No one should have known the window was open.
I went and closed my window
Fear curled in my stomach—but beneath it, something darker stirred. A slow, unwelcome heat. Curiosity laced with danger. The kind that made you stay still instead of running.
I got changed and wore simple pjs .
It was 7pm so a little time for dinner
I opened my tv
But my thoughts were still on that text
I opened my phone to check any notification
But none
I stared at the glowing screen, breath shallow.
Somewhere between the shadows and the silence, I realized-
Something in this room was offf
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
This is new book as my old Wattpad acc got deleted
Enjoyyy
Write a comment ...