You Have No Idea How Much He Means To Me

"How many girls has he gone out with?"

"One hundred and twelve," Armaan answered, embarrassed.

"What?" I asked awestruck; thank God his father thought I was talking to him.

"You don't know the answer, do you?"

"That is quite a personal question to ask a stranger," I evaded.

"I already know; I told you I always kept tabs on my son."

"I knew it!" Armaan announced.

"Err. A hundred and twelve," I finally answered, embarrassed for him.

"And how many did he sleep with?"

"Ninety-six," Armaan answered, refusing to meet my eye.

"Oh my God!" I gasped.

"I know it's embarrassing, but tell me the number," his father insisted.

"Ninety-six, but why am I being asked such degrading questions?"

"You were this close to him, but these figures never bothered you?" he had the most inquisitive look on his face.

"I was just a friend, sir. And friends don't judge or control."

Despite my best efforts to sound calm, the despair in my voice was audible.

"Why do I not know about the two of you? Where did you meet? How did you communicate?"

I couldn't believe his audacity.

Armaan ordered me to keep quiet, and I said, "With all due respect, Mr. Oberoi, I am not comfortable revealing that to you."

Was it just a trick of light or did I sense admiration for my guts in his eyes?

He accepted that answer with a grunt.

"So, do you really like him?" Armaan stared hard at me for an answer, and I replied with the truth.

"You have no idea how much he means to me."

Before either of them could dwell for too long on that answer, I hurriedly changed the topic. "How is his mother doing?"

His expression immediately changed. "Not good really; she is in a lot of pain."

"So are you sir - I can see it."

"Ask him not to mention you to her," Armaan requested.

Clueless about the reason, I repeated the request.

"I know why you are asking that; I want to tell her but I can't. Apart from the obvious reasons, she gets very depressed when someone mentions him. I want to take her out of here but we can't leave him alone."

I wondered about the obvious reasons.

"Sir I know you don't know me that well but you can leave him with me," I spoke earnestly, "I will take excellent care of him."

He smiled at my expression, but I still glimpsed a sharp glitter of tears.

"I understand, but he is my son. I can't. I just can't."

My spirits dipped too.

"I'm sorry for bringing him up."

"It's alright, child. I was the one who challenged your association with him. Come, let us get that interview done with."