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Shaurya stepped back with a sheepish smile at being caught red-handed. When he glanced to the side, he saw Nandini standing a few steps away, her eyes wide and teary as she watched him standing by the tree, speaking to it, just like she and her Grandpa often did.

She’d heard the story of him once pouring his heart out to this tree in secret, back when he thought love wasn’t for him. But seeing it herself now… it was something else entirely. It tugged at her soul. It was, without a doubt, one of the cutestthings she had ever seen.A grump like Shaurya, emotionally guarded, allergic to vulnerability,talking to a tree! If that wasn’t a miracle, she didn’t know what was.

As she approached him, Shaurya slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close. “Well,” he said with a smirk to Grandpa, “if you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears.”

Grandpa chuckled. “The mere thought that you want to leave something behind for my granddaughter… that’s enough, Shaurya. I’m impressed.”

Shaurya looked down at Nandini, grinning. “If not another tree, then maybe a private library? Only romance novels. All kinds. Even the dark ones that you love.”

She laughed through her tears and gave his chest a playful punch. “Stop it,” she whispered, her cheeks pink. Then she walked towards the mango tree and placed her palm on its trunk. Then she turned to Shaurya.

“I’m sure whatever you do will be wonderful,” she said softly, glancing up at him. “But nothing can beat what Daadi left for Grandpa.”

Grandpa felt nostalgic. He smiled at the tree like it held his entire world… and maybe it did.

Shaurya, wanting to comfort Grandpa and bring back the smile on his face, took a step towards the tree and teased, “That I agree with. But I do have one complaint.”

Nandini raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

He pointed at the tree. “This tree is biased. The way it responds to you and Grandpa, like it actually listens to you both, sways more when you talk to it, sheds a leaf when you’re sad... it doesn’t talk to me like that. It doesn’t give me any sign. Not yet. Not even after a year.”

Grandpa chuckled, wiping the corners of his eyes as he stepped closer to the tree. “That’s because you haven’t huggedthe tree yet. My Ambika is still waiting for a hug from you to take you under her wing and respond to you.”

Shaurya blinked, then looked at both of them with mock outrage. “Wait—you’re serious? That’s the official tree ritual? And you’re telling menow? After all this time? Such a small thing, and none of you thought to mention it?”

Nandini grinned and threw her arms around the trunk. “It was a top secret. But now that we are a family, you should know about it too. Daadi loved hugs.”

She winked at Daadu mischievously, who smiled like he’d been waiting for this very moment.

Shaurya frowned. “I’m not taking any chances,” he muttered, already moving forward. “Ifthat’sthe secret to getting ‘the sign’ from the tree, I’m not wasting a moment.”

He stepped up beside Nandini and lovingly wrapped his arms around the other side of the trunk.

Nandini giggled as their hands brushed and instinctively intertwined behind the trunk, their fingers lacing together against the rough bark. And just like that, the leaves above rustled louder—as if Daadi herself had heard and seen them.

“That’s it,” Grandpa said, his voice choked with emotion. “You’ve got your sign. She sees you now too, son.”

Shaurya didn’t expect to feel anything. Truth be told, he’d thought they were messing with him, and he was just playing along to humour them both. But as he stood there, with arms wrapped around the old tree, his fingers laced with Nandini’s, something in him shifted.

He felt it.

Something subtle… something real. Like the tree, after all this time, was finally pulling him in. Accepting him. The warmth. The calm. The rustle of leaves seemed like a welcome, like Daadi was embracing him in her fold.

For so long, he thought the tree only responded to Grandpa and Nandini. That its signs were reserved for them alone. But now, he could feel it. The tree had finally opened its arms to him too.

“Wait for me,” Grandpa called out, walking over with that same glint in his eye. “I’m not missing this moment.”

He joined them at the centre, wrapping his arms around both the tree and the people he loved most. Three hearts beating in quiet harmony under a canopy of leaves and shared memories.

The wind had quieted now. But the branches of the tree still swayed and danced in delight.

The old arguments had ended, and love had taken root. Right here. Right under this mango tree.

And how could the tree not bless them?

Because ‘when love trespassed’, it turned strangers into family—where love bloomed, old wounds healed, and every heartbeat finally felt like home.

The End