Page 124

Grandpa let out a long, weary sigh and turned away, as if trying to hold back something worse. “I don’t care about his sob story,” he muttered. “I care about you. And I will not stand andlet you destroy your happiness for a man who’s already failed at love once.”

“He is my happiness!” Nandini cried out, a single tear finally slipping down her cheek.

“No,” Grandpa said coldly. “He’s not. He’s just a phase. And, like all phases, it, too, will pass. You don’t want to marry Rohit? Fine. I’m not forcing that. Focus on your work—your startup, your future. But whatever was going on between you and Shaurya… it ends here. Now. You are not seeing him again.”

Something shifted in her then. A fire she hadn’t known she carried lit up behind her eyes.

“NO,” she said firmly, yet her tone was respectful, gentle. “I will not accept that.”

Grandpa blinked, startled by the sudden defiance in her voice.

“I’m twenty-five years old, Daadu. I’m not a child anymore. I’m old enough to make my own choices, my own decisions. And yes, that includes who I want to marry and spend my life with.”

“Nandini—” he began, but she didn’t let him finish.

“I could walk out of this door right now and marry him. Even if you don’t approve. Against your will. But rest assured, I won’t,” she said, her voice trembling. “Not because I am scared. But because I love you. More than anyone or anything in the world. More than my own dad. You and Daadi raised me, protected me, gave me everything I ever wanted. I would never hurt you like that.”

Tears welled up in her eyes again. “But please… please don’t ask me to break my own heart.”

Grandpa looked shaken. He had always known Nandini to be his gentle girl, someone who never raised her voice and was a picture of obedience, and this was a side of her he had never witnessed before. Strong, resilient, fiercely and undeniably in love.

“I never thought I’d hear you talk like this,” he whispered, more to himself than her.

“Neither did I,” Nandini replied softly. “You can disapprove of our love. You can be angry. But I won’t pretend anymore. I won’t lie about what I feel. Not anymore.”

For the first time in their argument, there was silence. Grandpa looked at her long and hard, as if trying to find the little girl he’d once raised in the woman who was now standing so resolutely before him.

And for the first time, he couldn’t find her.

“My decision won’t change,” he finally uttered with the same determination. “Forget about Shaurya. That’s the only choice I am giving you, Nandu.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Daadu…”

“If you don’t,” he continued, his voice edged with a finality she’d never heard from him before. “I’ll never talk to you again. Consider that you never had a grandfather.”

Her breath hitched. “Daadu!” she cried out, horrified.

But he had already turned away, and was walking towards the stairs. He didn’t stop. Didn’t look back.

Lakshmi, who had witnessed everything, rushed to Nandini’s side. The girl looked frozen, her face drained of colour, shattered by her grandpa’s parting words. The moment Lakshmi’s arms wrapped around her, Nandini collapsed into her chest, her sobs wracking them both.

Lakshmi held her tight, whispering soft reassurances. That’s all she could offer. “It’ll be okay… just give him some time.”

But deep down, Nandini knew the truth. Time wouldn’t heal this. It wouldn’t soften Grandpa. It would only strengthen his resolve to keep her and Shaurya apart forever.

*****************

Next Morning

The next morning, Nandini stirred to the loud ring of her phone. Her body ached with exhaustion, her eyes red and swollen from a night spent crying into her pillow. She hadn’t really slept, just drifted off for a brief moment as dawn crept in, surrendering to weariness more than rest.

The phone rang again. She reached for it with shaky fingers. It was Shaurya. She answered instantly, still curled beneath her blanket, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hello…”

“Thank God,” came Shaurya’s voice on the other end, laced with both relief and worry. “I was starting to panic. You didn’t respond all night. How are you?”

That simple question,‘How are you?’broke whatever composure she was holding onto. All she could do was sob softly in response.