Bench

He was standing next to a bench on a sunny evening, with his arms crossed. He kept looking at the corner of the road and his watch. He was sure his wristwatch was also bored of him but who would want to look at the same face for this long. Unless it was of a loved one.

He was here for that loved one. For him, her smile was all he could think of. He sighed and took a seat on the bench. He had a little wry smile on his face. The memories started to fill up, how he held her hand, how he danced with her, their high tea. It's been ten years, and not one day has gone by when he hasn't loved her. She took the place of his last love, not so much as her place as place beside her.

He reminisced of how he had woken up in the morning because she couldn't relax or how he endured the whole movie she wanted to watch. Her jealousy and her laughing at her bad jokes. He giggled a little. People passing by shot him looks. He didn't care.

He checked his watch anxiously, again. Where is she? he asked himself. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. She has told him not to worry or he will get old. He can't afford to be old now, can he? He felt two arms creep behind him and give him a small hug. He felt her lips on his cheeks before he could think what hit him. Few passers-by looked in the direction and smiled.

Before he could say anything, she screamed, "I love you, Papa".
His reply was simple, "I love you too, Betu."

-Pratik