Chapter 26

Breaking Point

Rahul sat in the stillness of his room, his cousin Rhea's words looping in his mind. The comfort they brought was fleeting, overshadowed by the growing rift between him and his parents. He didn't know how to fix it, and deep down, he wasn't sure he wanted to. There was a fire in him now—a need to prove himself, not just to his parents, but to everyone who doubted the unconventional path he was choosing.

Yet, with every day that passed, the tension at home worsened. His mother's quiet worry and his father's stern silences pressed on him like a vice. It was like living with ghosts—people who once supported him, now fading away into their own disappointment. The pressure was relentless.

One evening, after another long, strained dinner where hardly a word was exchanged, Rahul couldn't take it anymore. He left the table early, retreating to his room. He hadn't been there for more than five minutes before he heard a soft knock on his door. His heart sank. He knew it was his mother.

"Rahul?" her voice was gentle, but he could hear the emotion beneath it.

"Yeah, Mom?" he replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

The door creaked open, and she stepped in, her face lined with concern. She stood there for a moment, her eyes scanning the room, as if searching for something that might explain why her son had become so distant.

"Can we talk?" she asked quietly.

Rahul sighed, nodding. He wasn't sure he had the energy for another heart-to-heart, but avoiding the conversation wouldn't make things better.

She sat on the edge of his bed, her hands clasped together tightly. "Rahul, I know things have been hard between us lately. I know your father and I haven't been as supportive as we should be, but…" She trailed off, her voice cracking. "We just want what's best for you."

Rahul looked at her, his frustration bubbling up. "I know you do, Mom, but it feels like you don't trust me to figure out what's best for myself. You and Dad have this idea of what my life should look like, and when I don't follow it, you act like I'm ruining everything."

His mother blinked back tears, shaking her head. "That's not true, Rahul. We love you, and we're proud of you… but it's hard for us to watch you struggle. You had so many opportunities—so much potential—and now it feels like you're throwing it all away for something we don't understand."

Rahul's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You don't understand because you haven't tried to. You just see that I'm not in college anymore, that I'm not following the plan, and you think I'm lost. But I'm not. I'm finding my own way, even if it's not what you expected."

His mother wiped at her eyes, her expression torn. "Maybe we're not good at showing it, but we're scared, Rahul. Scared that you're chasing a dream that might not work out. What if this doesn't lead anywhere? What if you get hurt again?"

Rahul's voice rose in frustration. "I can't live my life being afraid of failure, Mom! I know what I'm doing is risky, but that doesn't mean it's wrong. I'm not the same person I was before the accident. I don't want the same things anymore."

His mother sat there, stunned by his outburst. For a moment, neither of them said anything, the silence stretching out painfully between them. Rahul could see the conflict in her eyes—the deep love she had for him, clashing with her fear of what his future might hold.

Finally, she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just want you to be happy, Rahul. That's all we've ever wanted."

Rahul's anger began to soften, replaced by an overwhelming sadness. He could see how much this was hurting her. He could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on him, but now, he realized that it wasn't just about their disappointment in him—it was also about their fear of losing him to a future they couldn't control.

"I know, Mom," he said quietly. "But I need to do this my way. I need you to trust me."

His mother looked down at her hands, her shoulders slumped. After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke. "I'll try, Rahul. I don't fully understand, but I'll try."

She stood up, giving him a long, tearful look before leaving the room. As the door closed behind her, Rahul let out a deep breath, his emotions swirling inside him. He knew that nothing had been fully resolved, but it felt like a small step forward. His mother was trying—she was scared, but she was trying.

But his father—his father was another story.

### The Breaking Point

It was the next morning when the real confrontation happened. Rahul had barely gotten out of bed when he heard his father's voice echoing down the hall, harsh and tense.

"Rahul, we need to talk. Now."

Rahul's heart sank. He hadn't even had time to prepare himself for another argument, but there was no avoiding it. He walked out into the living room to find his father standing there, arms crossed, his expression stern.

"We need to have a serious conversation about your future," his father began, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Your mother might be willing to give you more time, but I'm not going to sit by and watch you throw your life away."

Rahul's stomach twisted with anger. "I'm not throwing my life away! Why can't you just see that I'm doing something I'm passionate about?"

His father's eyes narrowed. "Passion doesn't pay the bills, Rahul. Passion doesn't give you security or a stable future. You're gambling with your life, and we're the ones who will have to pick up the pieces when it all falls apart."

Rahul clenched his fists, his body trembling with frustration. "You don't know that it's going to fall apart! Just because it's not the path you would choose doesn't mean it's a mistake!"

His father's voice rose, cutting through the air like a knife. "I'm your father, Rahul.