Unspoken Fears

I was on my way to the office, my heart heavy with the anticipation of seeing her. I needed to see her, to find some relief from the turmoil that had been brewing inside me.

As I came back from the bathroom, my phone rang. It was Umar, my secretary in Dubai, informing me that the Chairman of Zubin Enterprise urgently wanted to meet with me. Duty called, and I had to be there.

Before leaving Dubai, I had told Umar to arrange the meeting as soon as possible so I could return to India quickly. But now, the thought of going anywhere other than to see her felt unbearable.

That morning, I called her and set up a meeting, using my imminent return to Dubai as an excuse.

As I drove, the traffic light blinked red, and I came to a stop. A boy, no older than 7 or 8, knocked on my window. I rolled down the glass.

"Buy these flowers for your girlfriend, sir," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and desperation.

"No... thanks, buddy. I don't have a girlfriend yet."

"Please, sir. They are fresh. It's just Rs. 50."

"But, I don't..."

"Please, sir... I haven't eaten since last night. Please. I'll give them to you for Rs. 40."

His words tugged at my heart. I took out a five-hundred-rupee note and handed it to him.

"Take it and get something to eat."

"No, sir. I'm not a beggar. If you don't want to buy the flowers, it's okay."

"Okay, okay... stop. Give me the bouquet."

I bought the bouquet full of orchids and roses and gave him the note.

"I don't have change, sir," he said, looking anxious.

"Keep it. And I'm not giving it to you as a beggar. It's a reward for your hard work."

The boy's face lit up with a full-toothed smile, and I couldn't help but smile back. The light turned green, and I drove on, the bouquet resting on the seat beside me as memories of her flooded my mind.

"This is for you, beautiful."

For some time, she just stared at the roses.

"You don't like it?"

Then she looked into my eyes and smiled. Oh... her smile was a key to melting anyone's heart, but I really didn't like the idea of anyone except me.

"I like it, sweetheart... but...!!"

I raised an eyebrow. The flowers were so beautiful. How could a girl not like them?

"But what... beautiful?"

"I like these flowers, but I love it when they are alive, when they can breathe, and their smell mixes with the air."

"That means... you don't like these flowers?"

I asked her angrily. I felt very angry. How could she not like my present?

She took the bouquet from me, kept it aside, then took my hands into her soft hands, stroked them gently, and looked directly into my eyes. My body felt relaxed under her touch.

"Sweetheart... firstly, thank you so much for the flowers. I like them very much. But I really love it when they are alive. I am not that typical type of girlfriend that loves flowers, teddies, and chocolates."

And she smiled at me. I didn't know what to say, so I just asked her nonchalantly.

"So... what should I give you as a present? A diamond ring or a necklace?"

I thought she would be happy, but her smile dropped, and she shook her head no.

"Then... tell me what you want. I will buy it for you."

"If you really want to give me something, just give me your time, because nothing is more precious in this world than time, and I just want a little moment for myself from your precious time."

At that moment, I was speechless. Her thoughts and wishes always made me speechless. Was she really a human or some angel?

"Yes, I am a human, sweetheart," she said and smiled.

I parked my car in the office's parking lot and picked up the bouquet. I took the lift and walked to my cabin, placing the bouquet on my table before sinking into my chair.

I had been such a fool. I never truly grasped her feelings, never understood the depth of her emotions. I ignored her, but it was out of fear, out of confusion.

Before meeting her, I had never experienced such intense emotions. Love terrified me because of the scars left by my mother. She abandoned me for money and fame, choosing a life of luxury over her own son. Her absence was a void filled with loneliness and pain, teaching me that love was fleeting and conditional.

I grew up believing that love meant betrayal, that those who claimed to care would eventually leave. My mother's indifference and lack of care hardened my heart, making it difficult to trust or open up to anyone. The fear of being hurt again paralyzed me, and even with Areena, the one person who stirred true emotions within me, I was haunted by the possibility of reliving that abandonment and pain.

But with her, my heart awakened to sensations it had never known, and that was the root of my strange behavior. I was lost, unable to comprehend what was happening to me. I didn't know what love was or how it felt.

My feelings started to consume me, and everywhere I went, I thought of her, only her. It made me irritable and frustrated, unable to reconcile these new emotions. So, I began to ignore her, but her presence lingered in my mind, haunting me.

My ego and pride took over. What kind of man was I if I couldn't stop thinking about a girl?

But I was too blind to see that my feelings were genuine. There was no shame in falling for someone and admitting that I loved her.

When she kissed me, I felt every ounce of her emotion and mine. That kiss gave me the warmth and peace I had been desperately searching for in everything else.

Despite the passage of time and the silence that grew between us, my feelings for Areena never faded. Each memory of her smile, her laughter, and the way her eyes lit up haunted me, filling the void left by her absence.

My love for her remained as vibrant and intense as ever, a constant reminder of what I had lost and what I still hoped to regain. Every thought of Areena reignited the warmth and passion I felt for her, an unending flame that refused to be extinguished.

By the time I realized this, it was too late. For half a year, I was consumed by guilt and regret. I regretted every moment I had pushed her away, every instance I had let my fear and pride overshadow my true feelings.

Seeing her with someone else shattered me. It felt like a knife twisting in my heart, making me believe she didn’t love me.

In that agonizing moment, I thought she was just like my mother, choosing someone else over me, abandoning me for reasons I couldn’t understand.

The idea that she might have moved on so easily, just like my mother had, hurt more than anything. It reinforced the deepest wound of my past, the fear that love was not meant for me, that everyone I cared for would ultimately leave me behind.

But when I met her last week, everything changed. I saw the loneliness in her beautiful brown eyes, a depth of sorrow that mirrored my own.

She was as alone as I was, and in that moment, I understood that maybe I had been wrong all along. Her eyes told a story of silent suffering and unspoken heartache, a story I had been too blind to see.

Perhaps she had been struggling with her own pain, just as I had, each of us caught in a web of misunderstood feelings and unspoken fears.

The distance between us wasn’t due to a lack of love, but rather a shared vulnerability and the walls we had built to protect ourselves from further hurt.

In that brief, poignant moment, I realized that our separation had been a tragic misunderstanding, fueled by our mutual fears and insecurities.

It became clear that we were both victims of our pasts, yearning for connection but too afraid to reach out and grasp it.

Now, I clung to the hope that whatever had happened between us was just a misunderstanding. Today, I was going to bare my soul to her, from my foolish thoughts to my deepest feelings.

She had always been mine from the start, and I would make her mine. Sooner or later.