"You didn't know?
Your father's mother, didn't tell you? I came here for my wedding shopping—and I'm going to do all of it with you." Isabella threw her arms wide with excitement, pulling Amraha into a tight hug.
[The two of them looked so happy together, as if they shared a bond stronger than most. Amraha's mother had passed away years ago, while Isabella's mother—her mother's sister—was still alive. Long ago, an argument had driven Isabella's mother away, and even now, she wasn't there for the shopping].
"She should have come," Amraha said quietly, her face clouding with sadness.
"After Uncle passed away, Aunty shouldn't have visited… but it feels like she has forgotten me and grandmother. She never comes, never even calls. It hurt me… she should have been here."
Isabella leaned closer, her voice light but warm.
"Don't worry. I'm here, and after all, it's my wedding. Mom! will join us in a few days. You'll see."
[Isabella was the kind of girl who always smiled, handling things with an easy calmness, never letting life make her restless. Amraha, on the other hand, was serious—thoughtful, even heavy-hearted at times. Isabella had a childlike innocence, though her tall frame, striking features, and blue eyes gave her a graceful beauty. Amraha's deep brown eyes carried their own charm, more subtle but just as captivating. The two were only a year apart, with Amraha being the elder.
"So, tell me," Isabella asked as she adjusted the folds of her dress and tucked it neatly in her lap, "what have you been doing these days?"
"Nothing much. I just finished my exams," Amraha replied in her steady, quiet way.
"And how long will it take to finish your law degree?" Isabella tilted her head.
"I've just completed my finals. After next year's exams, I'll need to do my bachelor's, gain some experience—it'll take about four years."
"Four years!" ohh"
Isabella gasped dramatically, her eyes widening as though she had stumbled upon some secret calculation.
"By then, I'll already have two, maybe three children."
"What?!" Amraha stared at her, stunned.
"Yes! Think about it—my wedding is happening now. Four years from now, at your wedding, I'll be there with my little ones." Isabella burst into laughter, unable to contain her amusement.
"Are you serious? Is this some kind of joke?" Amraha's voice rose in disbelief.
"What's so strange about it? After marriage, everyone has children." Isabella shrugged.
"But three? Or four?" Amraha lifted her hands in exasperation.
That only made Isabella laugh harder, clutching her stomach until she nearly forgot to breathe.
"Oh Bella, please,"
Amraha said with a weary smile, "at least learn not to make a joke out of everything."
"One day,"
Isabella replied with a teasing glint in her eye, "when you fall in love, you'll dream the same way I do. You'll see."
"Me? I will never fall in love. Not now, not ever,"
Amraha said firmly, setting aside the book she had been holding.
"Why not?"
"Because the kind of love I want doesn't exist," Amraha said softly, her gaze distant.
"A love where someone cares for you more than themselves… where they respect you, never insult you, where even your nonsense matters to them. Someone who loves you so deeply that you begin to see yourself as beautiful in their eyes. Someone just, kind, who doesn't declare you foolish for your mistakes. Tell me, Bella, does such a person even exist? Someone who truly knows how to love, who doesn't need to be taught?"
"Amraha, your thoughts are deep. If fate wills it, you'll find someone exactly as you dream."
Isabella's tone softened for once.
Amraha drew in a long breath. I know, she thought to herself, there is no one in this world whose eyes are so beautiful that you'd want to lose yourself in them again and again.
"Don't be sad,"
Isabella said, brushing the heaviness aside with a smile. "You'll get married too. Stop being so serious."
But Amraha only looked away, her face still solemn.
"Bella, I was just thinking… if Aunty doesn't come this time…"
"She will," Isabella interrupted gently.
"Mama has sent me ahead, but she'll come soon. She won't bring up old matters, not in the middle of our happiness. You'll see."
"I only hope," Amraha whispered, "that she forgets… or at least forgives my father."
"Yes," Isabella sighed, "that's all we can hope for."
"Amraha, where is Isabella?" Grandmother asked as she sat at the dinner table, her hands resting lightly on the chair.
"Mother, I insisted a lot, but she didn't come," Amraha answered softly. "She said she didn't want to upset Dad by appearing before him. She promised she'll only come downstairs when aunty arrives… until then, she'd rather stay away."
"Alexa,"
Grandmother called out to a maid arranging flowers in a vase, "go upstairs, right side, first room—bring Isabella down."
"Mother,"
Amraha spoke gently, "what is she even doing here? She should be in her room with her son."
"She told me herself,"
Grandmother explained. "She said staying locked in one room tires her, and her boy is in much better health now. She wanted to take care of him on her own, without other maids helping. So, I allowed her to come into the kitchen, to work a little. Besides, Amraha, if Alexa stays close to us, she'll be safer."
[Before Amraha could reply, Asahi pulled a chair and sat down, his face expressionless, his eyes avoiding everyone.]
At that moment, Isabella appeared quietly behind him.
"Greetings,"
she said in a low voice, taking the seat beside Amraha. Silence filled the table—no words, no greetings in return—everyone simply began to eat.
Asahi lifted a piece of meat to his mouth, when suddenly, his eyes caught a woman walking past the kitchen door. His voice thundered, cold and furious:
"What is this woman doing in my house?"
Everyone froze.
Is he talking about Isabella? Amraha's heart raced. She tried to speak. "Dad, she—"
Asahi's glare cut across the table. "Amraha, what is this woman doing, wandering freely in my house?"
"Dad, I—" Amraha stammered, but Isabella had already risen from her chair.
Grandmother stood too, her eyes fixed on him.
"This is your responsibility," Asahi declared harshly. "An unknown woman, her son—if I ever see her roaming this house again… it's not good for them.. understand me well, Amraha."
His finger pointed sharply toward Alexa, who had just returned from the kitchen at the sound of raised voices. His command fell heavy in the room. And then, without another glance, he turned and walked away.
The woman lowered her head in sorrow, ready to leave, when Grandmother's voice softened behind her.
"Alexa… I hope you don't mind. Asahi doesn't usually get angry like this. Perhaps he came home tired from the office today."
"It's fine," the woman whispered, "it's his house, after all."
Later, as the tension lingered, Isabella asked quietly, "Why did Uncle speak to her like that? Who is she, really?"
"It's a long story," amraha said faintly.
"What do you mean, a long story?"
"Just that she's a woman who suffered injustice. I brought her here, gave her shelter. But Dad… he never approved. He doesn't like such interference from the very beginning." amraha's eyes dropped. "That's all."
Amraha returned to her room, sat on the bed, and changed the subject.
"Anyway… let's make a list of what you need for shopping. We'll go tomorrow."
"That's a good idea," Isabella replied.
......
Morning arrived.
"Amraha, wake up,"
Isabella called cheerfully, shaking her awake. They both got ready and came down for breakfast.
"Mother, where's Dad?" Amraha asked, looking around the dining room.
"He left early this morning."
"Where?"
"Office."
"But he never leaves without breakfast. He always waits for us."
Grandmother sighed. "He's like that. Whenever something goes against his will, he turns cold. Everyone has their own life, their own choices… but he forgets that others do too."
"Did something happen? Did he say anything to you?"
"No. Nothing." Grandmother's face betrayed something unspoken, but she chose silence.
Amraha tried to lighten the mood.
"Mother, we're going out for shopping today."
"Fine. Be careful,"
Grandmother ended the conversation abruptly, retreating to her room.
When they were alone, Isabella turned to Amraha, her face uneasy. "I'm sure Uncle's mood is ruined because of me. Last night, I spoke to Mama. She won't come here anymore."
Amraha blinked in shock.
"Why not?"
"Mama sent me first, to see how Uncle behaved with me. If he was kind, she would have joined us. But since yesterday, he hasn't spoken a word to me, hasn't asked how I am, hasn't even mentioned Mama. So I told her not to come."
Amraha stared at her, speechless. For the first time, she realized she had no words to defend her father.
"No, Bella, I think you've misunderstood," Amraha said quietly as they walked out toward the car. "Dad is upset—yes—but it's because of my actions and that woman's presence. He hasn't even contacted the police, hasn't helped with her case… and he hasn't spoken to me either."
Isabella didn't reply. She simply stepped forward, where a servant was already waiting, handing her a bag and the car keys. She accepted them with a nod, unlocked the door, and slid into the driver's seat.
Amraha followed closely, still trying to explain herself as she opened the passenger door. Settling into her seat, she turned to Isabella.
"Look, Amraha,"
Isabella said at last, her voice low but firm, "whatever the reason may be, Dad can believe he's right in his own way—but he should never treat Grandmother like that. Did you see her? She was upset. And I… I can't bear to see her sad." Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, her blue eyes fixed ahead.
Amraha sighed. "I understand. I'll talk to Dad myself… tonight."
The car hummed to life, pulling away from the house. Isabella drove in silence, her expression solemn. Beside her, Amraha sat in the front seat, her face equally grave, the weight of unspoken worries pressing down on both of them.....