Intertwined - Tangled series (Overprotective famous brothers)

Hate triangle

ALISHA

I woke up to the sound of feet shuffling in, and didn’t even bother to open my eyes to check who it was. Those little yawns told me it was my three year old nephew, Arhaan, who had slipped out of his bed and come into mine.

He was half-asleep, and here only because he wasn’t able to sleep. Malaika and Arbaaz were in their room, exhausted from the 16 hours of work they had. She had tucked Arhaan into the bed and kissed his cheek before retiring to bed herself, but her son was far from asleep. I wrapped my hands around him and whispered in a low voice,

“What happened?”

“I hurt my wrist.” He showed me his fragile little hand in the dim light of my phone. I smiled, knowing he wasn’t really hurt. Picking up moisturizer for the bedside table, I got up and applied it gently to his hands.

“It’ll get better now, this will heal your hand.” He nodded and said the lotion did help him feel better. The little kids were so innocent, their imagination so wild. I sang him one of his favorite songs, something I had written when he was in Malaika’s womb. He had heard it even before he had entered this world, maybe that was why he liked it so much.

His soft snores soon took over my senses, and I fell asleep with his chubby hands around my waist. I didn’t even realize when it was morning, time to get up and get ready for training.

I went into my washroom, leaving Arhaan on the bed to have some more of the sound sleep. Getting ready in flat twenty minutes, I came out to see my bed vacant, only his little soft toy lying near the blue bed pillows. I went into his room trying to find him, and then into Arbaaz’s. He wasn’t around anywhere, so where did he disappear?

I ran down, wondering how he had managed to slip out without making any noise in the room. He was definitely inside the few acres of land we owned, but where he was was the question here. I saw Dimitri come in and waved at him, still looking around for him.

“Who are you looking for?” Dimitri asked as he followed Mike into the gym.

“Arhaan.” I replied, getting my sweats off. It was too polluted outside today, all the smoke had settled down on Mumbai. It was impossible for me to train outside in this weather, it could take a toll on my pulmonary fibrosis affected body. And ending up in ER, by the oxygen mask and IV drip wasn’t something I fantasied about right now.

“He’s at the beach, his grandparents took him along.” Mike replied and I sighed. His grandparents were obviously my brothers’ biological parents. But just like my biological parents, they were far from being real parents. Their dad was a celebrity in his time too, and all he did care about was the money and prestige his career got him. His wife was a trophy to flaunt around, his kids just by-products. Both expected my brothers to be perfect kids- do what they said all the time. They never really cared, most of the times nobody hugged them when they were scared of lightening, or nobody defended them. They were parents just for the sake of it.

Moreover, they hated me. When Salman got me home, they made sure I suffered. Once, his father beat me into unconsciousness only over me breaking a piece of crockery. A six year old, hit to unconsciousness. That was their reality. Salman was furious, he moved out with me, soon followed by Arbaaz and Sohail. The deal was that Arbaaz and Sohail didn’t remember about the negligence because Salman was always the guardian when their parents weren’t around. But Salman had no one to look up to, and that always hurt him. He hated his parents, they hated me. It was a hate triangle.

But since Arbaaz was in good terms with his parents, we made sure we didn’t come between it. Arhaan had the right to have grandparents, Arbaaz had a right to have parents. So they came over regularly to meet Arbaaz, Sohail and their families. Me and Salman stayed away, and made sure our paths didn’t cross. Life went on.