Chapter 37 — A Father's Question

The dark room remained silent.

Veeresh was still standing near the wall, his injured hand hanging by his side.

Blood had stained his knuckles.

The door suddenly opened.

Mr. Qureshi stepped inside.

He stopped the moment he saw his son.

His eyes immediately went to Veeresh's bleeding hand.

Mr. Qureshi: "What did you do?"

Veeresh didn't answer immediately.

His father walked closer.

Mr. Qureshi: "Veeresh, what happened to your hand?"

Veeresh looked down at it.

Veeresh: "Nothing, Papa."

Mr. Qureshi gave him a stern look.

Mr. Qureshi: "Don't lie to me. I know you."

Veeresh sighed.

He sat down slowly.

His father sat opposite him.

Mr. Qureshi: "Tell me."

Veeresh remained silent for a few seconds.

Then he finally spoke.

Veeresh: "Poornima wants six months."

Mr. Qureshi frowned.

Mr. Qureshi: "Six months for what?"

Veeresh: "For herself."

He looked away.

Veeresh: "She wants time to understand herself. What she wants. What she needs. What she wants to do with her life."

Mr. Qureshi listened carefully.

Veeresh: "She thought about divorce."

His father's expression changed.

Mr. Qureshi: "Divorce?"

Veeresh nodded.

Veeresh: "She went to a lawyer."

Mr. Qureshi stared at him.

Veeresh: "But she doesn't want to go through the divorce process right now."

He took a deep breath.

Veeresh: "She wants six months."

Mr. Qureshi: "And what did you say?"

Veeresh looked at his father.

Veeresh: "I didn't stop her."

His father studied him carefully.

Veeresh: "She asked me not to interrupt her. Not to find out what she's doing. She wants to make her own decisions."

He paused.

Veeresh: "And she wants Bubba to go with her."

Mr. Qureshi remained quiet.

Veeresh's voice became heavier.

Veeresh: "Papa, I can't let her go."

Mr. Qureshi: "But she needs time."

Veeresh nodded reluctantly.

Veeresh: "I know."

He looked down at his injured hand.

Veeresh: "That's what makes it worse."

Mr. Qureshi glanced at the wall.

He understood what his son had done.

Mr. Qureshi: "You punched the wall because of this?"

Veeresh didn't deny it.

Veeresh: "I don't know how I'm supposed to spend six months without her."

His voice cracked slightly.

Veeresh: "She spent one whole year avoiding me."

He swallowed.

Veeresh: "She spoke to me only when necessary."

He gave a faint, painful smile.

Veeresh: "She stopped calling me asshole husband."

Mr. Qureshi almost smiled, but the sadness in his son's face stopped him.

Veeresh: "She stopped arguing with me. She stopped scolding me. She stopped asking me anything."

He looked toward the door.

Veeresh: "And I miss all of it."

Mr. Qureshi sighed.

Veeresh: "I even miss her calling me gadha."

His father shook his head.

Mr. Qureshi: "You really love her."

Veeresh looked at him.

Veeresh: "She's my askim, Papa."

He paused.

Veeresh: "She's my cennat."

His expression hardened with emotion.

Veeresh: "How am I supposed to just let her walk away?"

Mr. Qureshi leaned forward.

Mr. Qureshi: "Because if you truly love her, you cannot make her stay."

Veeresh looked down.

His father continued.

Mr. Qureshi: "You already crossed one line when you raised your hand on her."

Veeresh's face tightened.

Mr. Qureshi: "You told me yourself what she said afterward. Her father never raised his hand on her, and you did."

Veeresh closed his eyes.

Veeresh: "I know."

Mr. Qureshi: "Then don't cross another line now."

Veeresh remained silent.

Mr. Qureshi: "Give her the six months."

Veeresh looked at his father.

Mr. Qureshi: "Let her discover what she wants. Let her make her own decision."

Veeresh slowly nodded.

Veeresh: "And if she chooses divorce?"

His father's expression softened.

Mr. Qureshi: "Then you will have to accept that choice."

Veeresh looked away.

That was the answer he didn't want to hear.

But somewhere inside, he knew his father was right.

Mr. Qureshi stood.

Mr. Qureshi: "Come. Let me take care of your hand."

Veeresh looked at his bleeding knuckles.

Veeresh: "Papa..."

His father stopped.

Veeresh: "I don't want to lose her."

Mr. Qureshi looked at his son for a long moment.

Mr. Qureshi: "Then don't try to possess her, Veeresh."

He placed a hand on his son's shoulder.

Mr. Qureshi: "Give her a reason to choose you."

Veeresh lowered his eyes.

For once, the ruthless politician had no strategy.

No political move.

No plan.

Only six months of waiting.