Chapter 4 The Man Who Forgot About Himself

Aarav hated parent-teacher meetings.

Not because of the teachers.

Not because of the school.

Because every single time he walked into that building, he was reminded that he was doing a job he had never expected to have.

A job he wasn't sure he was doing right.

He parked the car outside Vihaan's preschool and glanced at the small figure sitting quietly in the back seat.

"Ready?"

Vihaan nodded.

His tiny fingers were busy adjusting the tail of his stuffed dinosaur.

The same dinosaur that accompanied him almost everywhere.

Aarav smiled faintly.

"Let's go."

---

The classroom walls were covered with colorful drawings, handprints, and badly drawn animals.

Children ran around excitedly.

Parents chatted with teachers.

The room felt warm.

Lively.

Normal.

Aarav always felt slightly out of place in environments like this.

Maybe because most of the parents arrived as couples.

Mothers and fathers.

Together.

Meanwhile, he stood alone.

Again.

Not that he minded.

At least, that's what he always told himself.

The class teacher welcomed them warmly.

"Vihaan has been doing well."

Relief immediately settled in Aarav's chest.

That was all he ever wanted to hear.

"He participates more now."

"Really?"

The teacher nodded.

"Not verbally yet. But he's becoming comfortable."

Aarav looked at Vihaan.

The little boy avoided eye contact and focused intensely on his dinosaur.

Typical.

The teacher handed over a folder.

Inside were drawings and activities completed during the month.

Aarav carefully flipped through them.

Sun.

Clouds.

Trees.

Animals.

Then one particular drawing caught his attention.

Three stick figures.

A taller one.

Another tall one.

And a smaller one standing between them.

A family.

His chest tightened.

The teacher noticed.

"We often ask children to draw people they feel safe with."

Aarav looked down again.

Three figures.

Not two.

Not one.

Three.

A strange feeling settled inside him.

One he couldn't quite explain.

---

Later that afternoon, after dropping Vihaan home with his parents, Aarav headed back to the office.

His assistant immediately intercepted him.

"You skipped lunch."

Aarav didn't look up from his phone.

"I wasn't hungry."

"You said that yesterday."

"And?"

"And the day before that."

He sighed.

Sometimes he regretted hiring competent people.

They noticed things.

"I'm fine."

His assistant rolled her eyes.

The universal response to that statement.

Because nobody ever believed it.

---

The truth was, Aarav wasn't sure when he'd last thought about himself.

Years ago, maybe.

Before hospital corridors.

Before funeral arrangements.

Before custody paperwork.

Before learning how to comfort a grieving child while trying not to fall apart himself.

Life had become a series of responsibilities.

One after another.

And somewhere along the way, his own needs simply stopped mattering.

Not intentionally.

They just became less important.

There was always something else that needed attention first.

Usually Vihaan.

Always Vihaan.

---

By the time he reached home that evening, exhaustion sat heavily on his shoulders.

The house was unusually quiet.

His parents had taken Vihaan to the park.

For once, nobody was asking for anything.

No meetings.

No calls.

No responsibilities.

Just silence.

Aarav stood in the middle of the living room and realized something.

He didn't know what to do with free time anymore.

The realization was unsettling.

Most people dreamed about having a few hours to themselves.

Aarav couldn't even remember what he used to enjoy.

Books?

Movies?

Travel?

The memories felt distant.

Like they belonged to someone else.

Someone he used to know.

---

The front door opened.

Instantly the silence disappeared.

His mother entered first.

Vihaan rushed inside behind her.

And somehow the house immediately felt alive again.

His father followed carrying ice cream.

A decision his mother clearly disapproved of.

"One scoop," she warned.

His father looked offended.

"He's a growing child."

"He's four."

"Exactly."

Aarav laughed quietly.

A rare sound these days.

His mother noticed immediately.

She always noticed.

For a moment, she simply watched him.

Then she spoke softly.

"You used to laugh more."

The words landed harder than she intended.

Aarav looked away.

His mother wasn't criticizing him.

She was remembering.

The son who existed before grief.

Before responsibility.

Before life changed.

---

That night, after everyone had gone home and Vihaan was asleep, Aarav sat alone on the balcony.

The city lights stretched endlessly before him.

Somewhere below, people were returning from dates.

Meeting friends.

Living ordinary lives.

Meanwhile, he was reviewing tomorrow's schedule.

Work.

School drop-off.

Meetings.

School pickup.

More work.

The same routine.

Every day.

Every week.

Every year.

And honestly?

He didn't mind.

Because every sacrifice felt worth it when Vihaan smiled.

When he laughed.

When he slept peacefully.

Still...

For the first time in a long while, a strange question crossed Aarav's mind.

When had he last done something for himself?

He couldn't remember.

And across the city, a woman named Aanya Sharma was having dinner with her family while stubbornly refusing another marriage proposal.

Neither of them knew it yet.

But life was quietly preparing to place them in each other's path.

And neither was ready for what would happen when it did.

To be continued...

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