This post is next story sequence(Chapter 8 - "Storm" ) of "A night to remember" for our team "Story6D".
You can read previous sequence (chapter 7) by clicking here by Pushpa.
Read the next part of story (Chapter 9) from here.
You can read previous sequence (chapter 7) by clicking here by Pushpa.
Tara sat with her eyes closed in a large cozy chair. Shekhar looked worried. He turned around, moved to sit closer to Tara.
“Is something wrong, my dear” he said putting his arms around her shoulder.
Off late, Tara and Shekhar had become distant, each engrossed in their own work. The work pressure kept Tara busy till late nights at ‘Happy Advertising’ while Shekhar too, was occupied in his freelancing writing assignments for host of websites and publication.
“Is this the same Cyrus who has poisoned your mind against me?” she said moving away his arm from her shoulder. She turned to face him. “How dare he spy on me? He has got a nerve to record my movements, to install a camera in my house. How the hell did he manage to sneak inside our house? And that too in my daughter’s room. How dare he accuse me of being a bad parent? You believed him? Did you really believe him? Her voice grew louder and was now a scream.
“Calm down Tara. Please listen to me. Look. We need to handle this thing together.”
Tara was in no mood to listen. Tears trickled down her cheeks. There was tremor in her voice. Shekhar stared into the space not knowing how to console his wife.
“Mamma, can I wear this dress today?” said Roohi standing at the door of their room with her frilly frock held between her fingers, her head tilted for approval.
Tara looked at her through misty eyes.
“Dad, do you like my dress?” Roohi walked into the room and sat on her dad’s lap.
“Are you okay mamma? Why are your eyes so red?” she asked as she turned to face her.
“Just tired, my baby. Did you get any homework today?”
“I will do my homework later, I am hungry.”
“But you just had an ice cream.”
Roohi smiled and rolled her eyes.
“Mamma, you know we have a new uncle in the building. I forgot to tell you this before, but yesterday while I was playing with my friends in the building compound, he asked me my name. But don’t worry mom, I didn’t tell him my real name. I told him my doll’s name instead.”
“Who is he? Why did you talk to him? I have told you not to talk to strangers.” Tara was immediately concerned, rather more upset than concerned.
“Don’t you worry Mamma, I gave him no information about myself. I didn’t tell him the name of the school I study in, nor my teacher’s name, and not even the real name of my best friend.”
“Whom did he look like?”
Roohi pursed her lips, playing with her frills of her dress.
“Hmmn…I think he looked like ummph…Salma Khan, yes, Salman Khan, broad shoulders, dreamy eyes, and dressed up tip top, like some rich gentleman.”
“I don’t want you talking to strangers, you hear that? Now go to your room and finish your homework.”
Roohi jumped off her father lap and hopped to the door. At the door she stood, turned to look back at her parents, with a smile on her lips and her hands on her hips, she said
“Oh yes, I remember one more thing mamma. He is our new neighbor and he said his name is Aryan.”
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