Incest Little sis Anjali and her friends

[prasannas2001]

 
Rohan and Mamta sat there in complete silence.
 
Not uncomfortable.
 
Just full.
 
Mamta looked at the book on the table.
 
“You know this is complicated.”
 
“Yes.”
 
“You know I have a family.”
 
“Yes.”
 
“You know I have responsibilities.”
 
“Yes.”
 
“You know my 18 years old daughter is in the next room.”
 
“Yes.”
 
“You know she can come out any moment.”
 
“Yes.”
 
His answers were calm.
 
Not dismissive.
 
Not careless.
 
“I know.”
 
She looked at him.
 
“Then why?”
 
Rohan was quiet for a moment.
 
“Because sometimes caring about someone doesn't begin with wanting something from them.”
 
The answer surprised her.
 
“What does it begin with?”
 
“Seeing them.”
 
Her eyes softened.
 
And that was the moment she realized what frightened her.
 
Not Rohan.
 
Not his words.
 
The frightening thing was how easy it felt to talk to him.
 
How natural it felt to be understood.
 
How long it had been since someone had looked at her and asked about the person underneath everything else.
 
 
 
Neither of them moved closer.
 
Neither of them spoke.
 
The distance between them remained.
 
But somehow, the silence felt louder than words.
 
Mamta knew she should end the conversation.
 
She knew she should stand up.
 
She knew she should return to the safe, familiar boundaries she had lived within for years.
 
But she remained there.
 
And Rohan noticed.
 
He did not take it as permission.
 
He simply understood that, for once, she was allowing herself to acknowledge what she felt.
 
“Mamta,” he said quietly.
 
She looked at him.
 
“If you want me to leave, I will.”
 
The simplicity of the statement affected her.
 
Because he was giving her the choice.
 
Not taking it.
 
Not assuming it.
 
For a few seconds, she said nothing.
 
Then she whispered,
 
“I don't know what I want.”
 
Rohan nodded.
 
“That is okay.”
 
The honesty of his answer made her eyes soften.