As he clung to his mother's knees, his body shook, playing the part of a dumb, pathetic child. He knew it was an act—a deception—but before he could think further, he felt warmth. His mother gently held him, her voice soft yet firm.
"I'm really glad you apologized for what you've done."
His eyes widened. A realization struck him, piercing through the veil of pretense.
No… I can't do this. I can't act and deceive my own mother. She's the one who gave birth to me, raised me… how could I?"
"You should apologize to your uncle too."
Her words echoed in his mind, scraping against his sanity. His fingers dug deeper.
If it were up to me, I'd beat him to death—so brutally that he'd pray never to be born again.
But outside, his expression remained composed. With a slow inhale, he pulled back, schooling his features into something softer.
"How could I? Uncle must still be asleep. Wouldn't want to disturb him, right?" He chuckled weakly, forcing a broken tone into his voice.
Then, with a sigh, he added, "Wish me luck. I've got a presentation today."
"What are you talking about—sleep? You don't know?"
Aarav's mother hesitated, her voice growing softer, weaker. "He quit drinking… a year ago."
Aarav froze. His mind struggled to process her words. His uncle? Sober?
"MIRACLE… A DAMN MIRACLE!" he shouted, unable to control himself. His mother flinched, her sad eyes fixed on him.
Something felt off.
His expression hardened. "Mother, what happened?"
She opened her mouth, but no words came. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks.
Aarav grasped her shoulders. "What happened!?"
Still, no answer. Just quiet sobs.
Frustrated, he clenched his jaw and exhaled. "Forget it. I have to go."
As he turned toward the door, something caught his eye—
His uncle. His presence was barely visible on the sofa, a shadow of a man. His nose was covered in a bandage with cotton stuffed inside, masking most of his face.
Then, in a weak, raspy voice, he clicked his tongue and muttered,
"You damn hooligan."
Aarav stiffened, his fingers curling into fists. His uncle's eyes, dull and unreadable, met his own.
No way.
Aarav glanced at his watch—8:37 AM. Yet, this man was already awake, sitting there, staring at the sun. How?
His uncle was never up this early. Not unless he was drunk, but—he quit drinking.
Aarav swallowed, forcing himself to readjust his emotions. He took a deep breath, then walked forward, lowering himself onto his knees. His expression softened as he let fake tears well up in his eyes.
"Uncle… Uncle… I'm sorry." His voice trembled just enough to sound believable.
The man didn't react at first, his dull eyes still fixated on the horizon. Then, slowly, he turned to Aarav and clicked his tongue.
"You don't have to act in front of me," he muttered, his voice rough but steady. "I can tell a liar at first glance… and you suck at it."
"We should talk."
His uncle stood up, his steps weak, but he moved alongside Aarav.
"Where?" Aarav asked, wary.
"I'll walk with you to the bus stand."
They walked in silence for a while. The morning air felt heavy, thick with something unspoken. Then, his uncle finally spoke.
"I saw it in your eyes." His voice was calm, almost amused. "Tomorrow, if you had the chance, you'd stab me until your arms gave out. You hate me that much, don't you?"
A wicked grin spread across his skinny face. "Well, to be honest, I deserve that punch. And it's not even close to what I owe you, is it?"
Aarav tensed, sweat forming on his brow. "No! No, what are you saying? You're my biological uncle—we share blood! No matter how much I resent you, I could never even dream of—"
"Shut the fuck up."
His uncle's voice cut through Aarav's words like a knife.
"That fake-ass act won't work on me. I've watched you grow, change. You're not the same pathetic cockroach I used to toy with. Not anymore."
He smirked. "Now, if I so much as touch you, you'd ripp my hand off, wouldn't you?"
Aarav clenched his fists.
"I used to think you were a brute. Simple-minded. But you're different now—twisted, like something crawling out of the dark. And you know what? You have potential."
his uncle chuckled darkly.
"I heard it, you know. Your fake cries. The way you tried to manipulate that idiot."
Aarav's grip on his uncle's collar , his breathing heavy.
"Forget it." His uncle scoffed, his smirk never fading. "You're a brute, through and through."
His uncle's smirk widened as he took a slow step forward, ignoring Aarav's glare.
"See? Your façade is already cracking. You're on edge. Take a few healthy steps back, you damn hooligan."
Aarav's fists clenched. His breath was ragged, his body tense.
"I heard you that damn day! Five years ago!" His voice was sharp, laced with venom. "You fucking leech! You took everything from us, drained us dry, and now you dare chit-chat with me like nothing happened? Quit fucking around and tell me—what the hell do you want?"
"I heard it loud and clear when you were dead drunk. You say you never gave us the full money, that you took the best deals for yourself—bullshit! I know you too well. You just tell your drinking buddies that, but I know the truth.
You've been taking a large sum of the payments that rightfully belong to my mother. And she—she believed every single word from your filthy mouth, just because you were his one and only brother.
You damn traitor!"
His uncle's eyes widened slightly before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head in amusement.
"So you do know, huh? You cockroach." The smirk crawled back onto his face, his voice dripping with mockery. "You're one messed-up bastard, Aarav. But since you're so desperate to hear it, I suppose I should tell you. You might actually like it."
"But I'm amused…" His uncle let out a dry chuckle. "It took you five years to make a joke like that."
He laughed—at first, a casual chuckle, but it quickly turned manic. His shoulders shook, his laughter echoing in the empty space between them. But then, suddenly, his laughter turned into harsh, uncontrollable coughing. He hunched over, his body convulsing, hacking violently.
Aarav watched in silence. At first, he was confused. Then it hit him. A slow, satisfied grin crept onto his face.
"I understand now."
His uncle, still hunched, struggled to steady his breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Aarav's grin only widened.
"Say it."
A bead of sweat rolled down his uncle's forehead.
"Say it !," Aarav repeated, his tone laced with mockery.
His uncle lifted his trembling hands—streaked with blood from his coughing fit. His eyes darkened.
"You think you're the only one who's changed in these five damn years?" he rasped, voice raw. "I could have lived like a king if it weren't for you people. I had money. I had everything. Your mother and you? You were just dead weight I had to carry."
His fists clenched as he let out a bitter laugh. "Then one stupid day, I made a bet—and I lost. A penny I didn't even have. But I still had control over everything. I thought, if I played my cards right, I could've built something of my own. Hell, I realized I could've taken more—this house, every last thing your old man your father left behind!"
He exhaled sharply, his voice finally cracking. "But then… a year ago, I found out—I have cancer."
Aarav's smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with something unreadable.
For the first time in years, Aarav felt something close to ecstasy. He watched the pathetic, trembling man before him, barely able to stand, and he couldn't hold it in—he burst into laughter.
Ten seconds passed. He doubled over, clutching his stomach. Another minute. He gasped for air between fits of laughter, his body shaking, his voice raw.
Finally, regaining some composure, he straightened up, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his phone. With a smirk, he turned the screen toward his uncle.
He had recorded everything.
His uncle's face drained of color.
"That…" Aarav's voice still carried traces of laughter. "That might just be enough."
Without another glance, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and walked away, heading to college—satisfied.