The lake shimmered under the soft golden glow of the setting sun. Aradhya sat on the rough, damp grass, hugging her knees close to her chest. The evening breeze carried the sweet scent of wet earth and blooming flowers, but none of it brought her peace. Her eyes were fixed on a sight so simple yet so painful— a mother deer gently licking her fawn’s tiny face, nudging it close, wrapping it in the warmth of her love.

The little fawn nestled into its mother’s embrace, its tiny frame quivering in the evening chill. The mother deer bent her head, resting it over the fawn’s body as if shielding it from every sorrow in the world. There was tenderness in her gaze, a love so natural, so effortless.

Aradhya felt something in her chest tighten painfully.

"Why can’t my mother love me like that?" she whispered to herself.

The thought was bitter, almost poisonous. She swallowed hard, forcing back the lump in her throat. It wasn’t the first time this question had haunted her, and it wouldn’t be the last.

She wrapped her arms around herself as if trying to hold together the pieces of her heart that threatened to fall apart.

From the moment she could remember, her mother had been distant, her love locked away behind cold, indifferent eyes. There were no warm hugs, no gentle words, no comforting presence when she cried. While other children ran into their mothers’ arms, basking in their affection, Aradhya learned to live without it.

She remembered the way her mother’s face hardened every time she tried to get close, how her voice carried only impatience and indifference when speaking to her. No matter how much she tried— no matter how obedient, quiet, or helpful she was— she never earned her mother’s love. It was as if she was a burden, an unwanted shadow.

She watched the deer and her fawn, her chest aching with something nameless.

"Is love really that difficult?" she thought bitterly.

She had tried to be everything her mother wanted— polite, disciplined, soft-spoken— but it was never enough. She wasn’t allowed to dream, wasn’t allowed to step outside the invisible cage her mother had built around her. She was expected to follow rules, to be the perfect daughter, but never to be free.

Her thoughts drifted to the countless times she had expressed her desire to work, to build something of her own. Each time, her mother’s reaction had been the same— a cold laugh, a dismissive wave of the hand, and a sharp, final statement:

"You have everything you need. What more do you want?"

What more did she want?

Freedom. Purpose. Love.

She wanted to wake up without feeling the weight of her mother’s expectations suffocating her. She wanted to step out into the world, to carve a place for herself, to be something more than just a daughter trapped in a home that never felt like home.

She wanted the kind of love that deer had for her fawn— pure, unconditional, unwavering.

But she had long stopped hoping.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away. She had learned not to cry, at least not where anyone could see. Tears had never earned her comfort, only more coldness.

The fawn nuzzled into its mother’s side, safe and content. Aradhya wondered how that must feel— to be wanted, to be held close, to be loved for simply existing.

She dug her fingers into the damp earth beside her, grounding herself against the whirlwind of emotions inside her.

"Maybe I was never meant to be loved like that," she thought bitterly.

Maybe some people were just born to live in the shadows of others, to be unseen, unheard. Maybe love wasn’t something she was destined to receive.

A sharp gust of wind blew through the lake, rustling the leaves, carrying with it the distant laughter of children playing somewhere far away.

Aradhya closed her eyes and let out a slow, shaky breath.

She had spent her entire life longing for love, but maybe it was time to stop. Maybe it was time to stop waiting for something that would never come.

She opened her eyes, her gaze once again settling on the deer and her fawn.

For a brief moment, she allowed herself to pretend— pretend that she was that fawn, safe and cherished. Pretend that somewhere, in another life, she had a mother who held her with warmth, who looked at her with love instead of disappointment.

A life where she wasn’t just a daughter fulfilling obligations, but a person who mattered.

But reality was different.

She rose to her feet, brushing the dirt off her dress. The sun had dipped lower now, the sky painted in hues of pink and orange. The deer and her fawn remained close, oblivious to the storm raging inside her heart.

Aradhya took one last look at them before turning away.

Love like that wasn’t meant for her.

And maybe, just maybe, she would learn to be okay with that As she has been living since eighteen years of her life.