Page 8 of Shattered

Smiling, I reach up to the cabinet above the coffee machine and grab a cup.Placing it under the spout of the machine, I press the start buttonand turn to Aditya with a smirk. “Ah, the classic ‘never again’ declaration.” Itease, bringing the steaming cup to my lips as I lean against the counter.I grin at him before saying, “I’ll believe it when I see it… maybe next weekend, when you’re not nursing a hangover.”

Aditya gives me a cheeky grin. “You do know I am not so great at sticking to those promises.”

I let out a chuckle. “I won’t argue with you on that. You are pretty crappy at keeping them, especially the ones where you have to keep it in your pants.”

He raises an eyebrow in mock offence. “Hey, I am not a man whore.”

“That’s still a topic of debate, given your reputation and track record,” I retort with a grin.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Aditya says with a smirk, “especially when your hands were literally all over that womanin the tight black dress, and your tongue was down her throat last night.”I wince at the reminder and glance around.

“Lucky, I woke up alone in bed,” I huff.

Aditya shrugs nonchalantly.“At least we had the sense not to bring any random woman home. Imagine the chaos of waking up next to them and then trying to ask them to leave.”

With my coffee in hand, I make my way over and sit on one of the stools next to him. “True, it would have been a nightmare, especially since I need to be at my parents’ house in an hour.”

He flinches. “Tell me about it. I have my parents’ anniversary party to attend tonight, and I am still battling this hangover. Hopefully, I’ll look presentable enough by evening so they won’t suspect a thing. Speaking of which,” he says, glancing at me, “don’t forget that you have to attend the party too.”

“I will be there,” I say as my lips curve into a smile and I point at him. “Just for the records, right now you do look like shit and need a hell of a lot of time for you to get yourself back together.”

He gazes down at his crinkled clothes from last night, grimacing as he smells under his armpits. With a shudder, he runs a hand through his messy hair. “God, I desperately need a shower.”

“You sure as hell do,” I agree, gulping down the coffee before glancing at my wristwatch and then back at him. “I better rush to my parents’ house.I promised them I’d be there by lunch, andI don’t want to keep them waiting.”

Aditya downs the last of his coffee and stands. “I too have to rush and grab a gift for my parents, and then spend hours trying to make myself look like an ideal responsible son.”

“Well, good luck with that! But I won’t hold my breath,” I grin.

“Fuck you, man,”Aditya calls out, laughing as he strides out the door.

I shake my head.

It’s time to head to my parents. With a grin still on my face, I gear up for some quality family time!

???

Two hours later, I finally pull up at my childhood home. A wide smile spreads across my face as I gaze at the massive white bungalow where I spent my childhood. Stepping out of the car, I climb the three stairs leading to the entryway. Just as I am about to ring the bell, the door swings open, and there stands my mom. She’s wearing her favourite dark green sari that beautifully complements her radiant skin. Her salt-and-pepper hair is neatly tied in a bun, and the wrinkles around her eyes add a touch of warmth to her appearance.I shake my head, marvelling at how she always seems to know exactly when I’ve arrived.

“You are here,” she exclaims, enveloping me into a warm hug, her petite frame barely reaching my shoulders.

“I told you I’d be,” I reply, pulling back from the hug and planting a kiss on her cheeks.

“Come on, your dad is waiting for you,” shesays, her black eyes twinkling with excitement.

Wrapping my hand around her shoulder, we step inside and walk into the living room.

“There’s my son,” Dad greets me,getting up from the couch witha broad smile.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, giving him a hug.

Pulling back from the hug,Dad gives me a smack on the shoulder, his eyes glinting with playfulness. “I have booked the tennis court for tomorrow, son. Get ready to lose.”

I shoot him a competitive glare, matching his grin. “Oh, you’re in for a surprise, Dad. I’ve been training in secret.”

“Ha! We’ll see about that,” Dad chuckles, his grin widening. “Bring your A-game, kiddo.”

“Challenge accepted, Dad. You’re going down.”

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