Poles Apart

Chapter Sixteen

"What was that?" I force myself to ask my parents before they can leave.

I'm too angry to process the looks on their face, too angry to care. At this moment, I didn't care what was going to happen, if I was going to hurt people, I was too hurt to care. I need answers, explanations and that's all I know.

"Why did everyone else know, except me?"

I clench my jaw together, trying not to blink so the tears don't tumble down my face. I am acutely aware of everyone's presence and my father's emotionless face; he looks almost indifferent.

"You agreed to the wedding," my father points out.

Growing up as Naveen Ravichander's daughter, I'd always known his insensitivity. It wasn't new, but the indifference that reflects on his face at this very moment shatters my heart like never before.

"I agreed to the wedding. Not the wedding dates." The growing lump in my throat makes it insanely difficult to utter any more words without breaking down in the middle of the living room.

I clench my jaw, in a desperate attempt to hold onto my tears, but from the flash of disgust in his eyes, I know I look like I'm going to burst into tears any minute now, which I am. Acting like things didn't matter is something I'd learned from my father, but I wasn't my father. There is a limit to the amount of nonchalance I could showcase.

"Don't cry, Arvi," he commands, like my tears are going to vanish because he said so. "You always let your emotion get the better of you." There it is. Naveen Ravichander's famous line as said to his daughter.

I grit my teeth, not letting the tears fall. Refusing to blink my eyes, for the fear that the tears would start flowing out my eyes. This is the final straw. I had been here for a month, and I hadn't spoken to my father for more than two minutes at a stretch. I hadn't ever spoken to my father for more than two minutes at a stretch. For as long as I could remember I always thought my father was a man of few words. But the thoughts creeping into my mind at this very moment, said otherwise. Maybe there's just nothing he'd say to you.

"We're talking about my wedding. How else should I speak about it? Like it's some business deal?" I take in a shaky breath in an attempt to calm myself.

"Stop putting your emotions first, Arvi," he says, "Try to think, not feel."

Disbelief courses through my body, "You want me to think about my wedding? My wedding is six months away? The wedding I had no clue about?" I question. My tone sounds eerily foreign even to myself. It sounds... cold. "Why does everyone else know? You're making decisions about my life, without including me? You--"

I'm cut off by his angry voice, "I am your father. I know what is best for you."

Isn't anger an emotion?

"And I am a person, a person with a life that you want to control so much that you won't tell me when you make decisions about my life?" I ask, letting my anger get the better of me. "How do you know what is best for me, anyway? It's not like you call me or talk to me," I say sarcastically, "Oh, wait. Maybe it's those Private Investigators that tail me around?" I notice the look of surprise on his face, and I like it. I like that he lost his composure because of me. "You think I wouldn't notice when someone is following me? You're so busy that you can't make one bloody phone call. You pay people to report to you about me. Why?" Because he doesn't trust me.

"Because I am concerned about you. Maybe you thought you could just stay away and be away from everything. That you could be normal. We are constantly worried about your safety. You are not normal, Arvi." Naveen Ravichander never explains himself.