Atlas
My drink slips from my hand, hitting the ground with a dull thud. The liquid spreads across the pavement, but I barely notice. All I can see is her—my mother—walking toward us with measured steps, each click of her heels against the concrete making my chest tighter.
Mr. Sid follows behind her like a shadow, his face professionally blank. But I know better. The slight tension in his jaw tells me everything I need to know about how this is going to go.
Aarav shifts beside me, and I suddenly remember he's here. Shit. This isn't supposed to happen.
"Atlas." Mother's voice carries across the space between us, steady and cold as always. "What a coincidence."
Coincidence. Right. Because she just happens to find me in the exact park where I've been spending time with Aarav. The same Aarav who saw too much yesterday.
"Mrs. Leth," Mr. Sid murmurs, "perhaps we should—"
"Not now, Sid." She doesn't even look at him, her eyes fixed on me. Then they slide to Aarav, and something in my stomach turns to ice. "And who might this be?"
Before I can stop him, Aarav steps forward. "I'm—"
"Nobody," I cut in, moving slightly in front of him. "Just someone from the park."
Mother's eyebrow arches. The gesture is subtle, but I recognize the danger in it. "Really? Because I hear you've been spending quite a bit of time at his aunt's restaurant."
Of course she knows. Mr. Sid must have already told her."
"Atlas," she continues, "I have some things to settle with you."
I feel Aarav tense beside me. He doesn't understand what's happening, but he's smart enough to sense something's wrong. That's the problem with him—he notices too much.
"Now isn't a good time," I say, trying to keep my voice light. "We have groceries for the restaurant that need to be delivered."
"Your friend can handle that." She glances at Aarav.
"No," I say, too quickly. "I promised I'd help."
Mother's lips thin into a line. "You've been making a lot of promises lately, haven't you?"
The threat is clear, even if Aarav can't hear it.
Aarav reaches for my hand, his grip firm and grounding. "We should go," he says quietly.
I free my hand from his, stepping back.
Difficult? She's the one having me followed, forcing me back into a life I never wanted. A life where every move is calculated, every relationship scrutinized for potential weaknesses.
But Aarav is different. He doesn't ask questions, even when he sees things he shouldn't.
And now Mother's here to ruin it all.
My gaze locks onto Aarav, a silent plea in my eyes: Run. Stay away. Forget you ever met me."
But he's looking at my mother, his expression unreadable. "Actually, Mrs. Leth, we really do need to deliver these groceries. My aunt's restaurant depends on them."
"Oh?" Mother's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "And what restaurant would that be?"
My hands curl into fists. "Stop it."
"Stop what, dear? I'm just making conversation."
"No, you're making threats." The words burst out before I can stop them. "Just like you always do."
The silence that follows is deafening. Mr. Sid shifts uncomfortably, and Mother's smile finally drops.
"Get in the car, Atlas."
"No."
"This isn't a request."
"I'm not a child anymore." I meet her gaze steadily. "You can't just order me around when I do something you don't like."
She steps closer, her voice dropping so only I can hear. "No, you're not a child. Which means you should understand the consequences of your actions by now. Especially when they affect others."
My blood runs cold. She wouldn't... but of course she would. She's done it before.
I look at Aarav again, remembering his aunt's warm smile, the way she treats me like family without knowing anything about me.
"Fine," I say finally. "Just... give me a minute."
Mother nods, satisfied, and walks back to the car with Mr. Sid.
"Atlas?" Aarav's voice is uncertain. "What's going on?"
I turn to face him, forcing my features into that familiar smirk he hates so much. Better he hates me than gets hurt because of me.
"Nothing you need to worry about." My voice comes out colder than I've ever used with him. "Tell your aunt I won't be coming by anymore."
"But—"
"Just drop it, Aarav. Go back to your normal life and forget about yesterday. Forget about me."
I walk away before he can respond, each step feeling heavier than the last. As I slide into the car beside my mother, I catch a glimpse of him in the side mirror—standing there with a confused, hurt expression that makes my chest ache.
"You did the right thing," Mother says as the car pulls away. "He's better off not getting involved."
For once, I agree with her. But it doesn't make it hurt any less.