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It was in reference to the fact that she had responsibilities, as she thought it might have been. But why on Earth was this topic coming up was not known.
Lest someone was hearing via extendable ears, a mother’s worrying her daughter’s marriage.
She had cried coming home, to her mother not because she felt hurt at the idea of not getting married, she was long prepared for it, but since she had never thought of harming him, nor had any plans to like him remotely that way, nor loved him ever, not even in a single thought.
She cried since it was spoken so loud that each person in every cubicle raised their head to look at her. It was quite insulting for a woman who was struggling through her own pains.
She had a bad habit, since childhood she always shared information with her mother. Her mother usually knew almost all her office people by name and details but as age grew, her daughter’s grew too. A valiant fight against breast cancer did not make her brave when she worried about her future. So, any obvious good note from Bivonte when shared by the daughter, the mother’s expectations rose.
“Does he like you?”
“I don’t know, why would he and I don’t see him that way, I don’t expect.” She would answer.
She knew he was once holding the team together and many were friends to him.
Everyday soon after she would enter office she would put her bag down, ask him about the tasks in hand.
One day, her quality reviewer trainer caught her hand while she was moving out of her cubicle towards his, “Why do you go to him everyday?”
“Nita, to ask him what all needs to be done.”
“He is morning shift. You can ask me.” She remarked.
“Of course, I do ask you too, don’t I?”
“Yes, you do.” She smiled and further added,
“You don’t know what kind of a person he is, the girl who marries him would definitely be drowned or burnt. He is so demanding, or else she has to always run behind him.”
“Why should I know that. How does it impact me?” She found it tough to wade through this commotion always.