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Shaurya inhaled sharply and took a step forward. Nandini could see it building in him—his jaw tightening, his hands curling into fists, that same tightly coiled temper he usually kept so perfectly in check.

But before he could explode, Varun beat him to it again.

“Grandpa, maybe you should lie back and not raise your blood pressure? You just came out of unconsciousness. Stress isn’t good for your… uh… fracture.”

Grandpa narrowed his eyes at him. “Who are you? A doctor?”

Varun chuckled. “Not exactly. But my mom is a physiologist, so I do know a thing or two about dealing with, uh, fiery patients. I’m Varun, Shaurya’s friend.”

Grandpa’s eyes narrowed further. “Shaurya’s friend?” he scoffed. “My enemy’s ally. And an enemy’s ally is still an enemy.”

Varun beamed. “Well, Grandpa, as they say—never judge a book by its cover. Or a man by the company he keeps. I’m much more fun than Shaurya, I promise.”

Grandpa blinked, thrown off just enough to look mildly confused by the wordplay. He then turned his searing gaze back to Shaurya.

“Why are you always around my family? Don’t you have work to do, deals to close, empires to build, people to annoy?”

Shaurya stepped closer, his composure slowly wearing thin. “Believe me, I didn’t come knocking on your door this morning hoping to be your knight in shining armour. But your granddaughter screamed for help. And unlike you, I don’t turn away from people in need of help.”

Nandini flinched. Grandpa’s face went red.

“You’re lucky I’m injured,” Grandpa muttered, seething.

“You’re lucky I got you here in time,” Shaurya bit back. “If I’d waited for the ambulance like any sane person would, you’d be arguing from a hospital bed two floors down in critical care. But I didn’t. I carried you to my car. I drove like hell. I broke two signals, got flashed by a traffic cam, and probably racked up a fine for speeding, just to make sure you made it here in time. And trust me, you got lucky. It’s only a minor ankle fracture.”

His chest rose and fell with the force of the words he’d held back… until now.

Just then, the door opened and Dr. Harish stepped in. He’d been their family doctor for years. He stopped by the bedside, having caught the tail end of Shaurya’s outburst.

“Shaurya is right,” he said after checking Grandpa’s vitals. “Had he waited for the ambulance, there’s a very real chance this fracture could have been worse. You might have needed surgery. He saved you from that.”

Grandpa didn’t reply. Not immediately.

There was a faint twitch of his fingers, the barest flicker in his eyes. But pride was a stubborn thing. He looked away, pretending to read the hospital wall chart instead.

Nandini stared at Shaurya, stunned, not because she disagreed, but because no one had ever stood up to her grandfather like that and still managed to look like a hero doing it.

And dear Varun just stood beside him, visibly impressed by his friend’s outburst.

Dr. Harish crouched down to inspect the cast. “Complete bed rest for at least three weeks. That’s non-negotiable. Since that means you’ll have limited movement, I’ll arrange for a nurse or a male attendant to help out around the villa.”

“No need,” Grandpa said almost immediately, waving off the suggestion. “The last time I agreed to that, the male nurse nearly drove me to insanity. Always telling me what to do, what not to do, hovering over me like he was auditioning for a role of a doctor. I’m not doing that again.”

“Daadu,” Nandini interjected gently, “let the doctor send someone. You’ll need help.”

“I have you,” he insisted. “And Lakshmi. You two are enough.”

“But—”

“We’ll manage,” she finally told the doctor with a small, apologetic smile. “If we need help, we’ll let you know.”

Dr. Harish nodded and exited the room.

Shaurya stood in silence, arms crossed, watching the interaction between them. He couldn’t stop the gnawing feeling in his chest.

How could the old man not realise how much pressure this would put on Nandini? A full-time caregiver role wasn’t something she could or should take on alone. But of course, Keshav Raichand’s comfort took precedence.

Or maybe… maybe it wasn’t just pride anymore. Maybe age had blurred his ability to see reason. Maybe he didn’t realise that his stubbornness was going to leave his granddaughter physically exhausted and emotionally drained.