A 20-year-old girl fell in love with a man in his 40s. On the day she returned to meet her parents, her mother immediately hugged her as soon as she saw her future son-in-law. A tragedy from the past.

My name is Aarushi, twenty years old, a final year student of interior design at the Mumbai University of Arts and Architecture. My friends often say I am more mature than my age, perhaps because I grew up with only my mother – Sarla, a single, strong-willed woman.

My father passed away when I was less than a year old. My mother never remarried. She worked alone as an accountant for a small company in Pune, working and raising me, never complaining.

Once I participated in a volunteer project at my school in rural Maharashtra, I met Arjun, the group’s technical manager. He was more than twenty years older than me – quiet, calm and surprisingly profound. At first, I only saw him as a respectable brother, but the more I interacted with him, the more my heart fluttered every time I heard him speak or when his eyes stopped on me.

Arjun was experienced, had gone through a broken marriage but had no children. He rarely mentioned the past, only said softly:

“I once lost something precious, so now I just want to live a decent life for the rest of my life.”

The love between me and him came gently like the wind. No noise, no ostentation. He always treated me with care and kindness, making me feel truly appreciated.

Even though many people said – “How can that girl bear to love a man twenty years older than her?” – I didn’t care. Because to me, Arjun was the one who made me feel the most peaceful.

One day, he said:

“Aarushi, I want to meet your mother. I don’t want to hide or be ambiguous anymore.”

I hesitated. My mother was strict and quite conservative. But I believe that if love is true, there is nothing to be afraid of.

That day, I took him home to the outskirts of Pune. He was wearing a white shirt, holding a bouquet of daisies – the flowers I once told my mother loved. I held his hand tightly as we walked through the old iron gate where my mother was watering the plants in the garden.

The moment my mother turned back… she was stunned.

Then, before I could say anything, my mother dropped the watering can, rushed to hug Arjun, tears streaming down her face.

– “Oh my god… is it really you, Arjun?” – my mother choked.

The air seemed to freeze. I stood there, stunned. Arjun was also stunned, his eyes filled with panic.

– “Are you… Sarla?” – he asked, trembling.

My mother nodded repeatedly, tears streaming down her face:
– “It’s me… it’s been more than twenty years, you’re still alive… are you still here?”

I was stunned:
– “Mom… you know Arjun?”

Both of them turned to look at me. No one said anything for a few seconds. Then my mother wiped her tears, sat down on the chair, her voice trembling:

– “Aarushi… I have to tell you the truth. When I was young, I loved a man named Arjun. It was him.”

The small room was filled with a heavy atmosphere. I looked at Arjun – his face was pale, his eyes were confused. My mother continued:

– “At that time, I was in college, and Arjun had just graduated from engineering school. They loved each other deeply, but your grandparents objected because they thought he was poor and had no future. Then… Arjun had an accident on the way to work, and then lost contact completely. My mother thought he was dead…”

Arjun sighed, his voice choked:
– “I never forgot you, Sarla. When I woke up in the hospital in Nagpur, I had temporary amnesia and couldn’t find my way back. When I returned to Pune, people said you had a daughter. I… didn’t dare show up again.”

I felt my heart tighten. Every word they said was like tearing my mind apart.

– “Daughter…” – I stammered. – “That is…”

My mother turned to me, her voice choked:
– “Aarushi… you are Arjun’s daughter.”

I was speechless. Everything around me seemed to collapse. The man I loved, the man I believed was my destiny… was my biological father.

Arjun took a step back, his face pale, his hands trembling:
– “No… it can’t be… I didn’t know…”

My mother hugged me and sobbed:
– “I’m sorry… I didn’t know… I didn’t expect things to turn out like this.”

I couldn’t say a word. Just looking out onto the porch, where the sunset fell on the old neem trees, my heart was empty to the point of despair.

That afternoon, the three of us sat there for a long time. It was no longer a meeting to introduce our lovers, but a reunion of three souls lost for twenty years.

I – the girl who had just found her father and lost her love – could only remain silent, letting my tears flow.

Outside, the Pune sky was dyed a brilliant orange-yellow. In that light, past, present and destiny became one – like a beautiful but painful wound, which will follow me for life.