Page 57

This house, unlike his, felt lived-in. Worn but warm. Filled with love in every corner, with soft amber lighting and cosy rugs. The faint scent of turmeric and cardamom wafted through the air, wrapping him in comfort and nostalgia.

He drew in a slow breath. Was this a mistake? Coming to Raichand house in the pretext of meeting Keshav Raichand—a man who hated him—but looking for Nandini instead? Shaking his head, he put that thought aside as he was already halfway to the old man’s room with Lakshmi.

Inside Grandpa’s room, he finally saw her. Nandini was seated beside her grandfather, coaxing him to eat a bowl of fruit.

“These fruits are so tasteless,” Grandpa grumbled, pushing the bowl away. “I want real food. Not these sad slices of apple and pear! I crave something spicy. Like samosa chaat or aloo papdi chaat.”

Nandini rolled her eyes. “Daadu, you know the doctor specifically said no spicy food until you recover as they pain meds can trigger your acidity.”

“You sound just like your Daadi,” he muttered with mock despair. “Only worse. At least your Daadi understood my cravings. She used to make the best chaats in the world.”

“Well, I’m not Daadi,” Nandini retorted, crossing her arms. “And even she would have enforced the doctor’s orders. If she were here, she’d have confiscated your spice box and locked it in a safe,” she added, stabbing a slice of pear onto a fork.

She held it up in front of him with mock sternness. “Now eat.”

That’s when the knock came.

Lakshmi stepped in reluctantly, gesturing behind her.

“Mr. Ahuja is here to see you,” she said quickly, then fled from the scene.

Nandini froze, the fork with the piece of pear still suspended mid-air. Grandpa straightened in his seat, his brows knitting into a frown as he turned his gaze towards the door, clearly wondering what on earth was Shaurya Ahuja doing in his house uninvited, and apparently to meet him. But even as he pondered over the question, a flicker of reluctant admiration crossed his mind. Grudges or not, the man clearly had guts to show up here. Grandpa had to give him a brownie point for that.

The moment Shaurya’s eyes met Nandini’s, something inside him eased. She didn’t smile, didn’t even say a word, but her mere presence settled the static in his chest. For a second, it felt like nothing else existed except the two of them.

Then Grandpa’s voice landed like a hammer.

“What are you doing here? In my house?”

Shaurya tore his gaze from Nandini and tried to steady himself. “I came to check on you.”

“Check on me?” Grandpa repeated, unimpressed. “Why? Did your internet go down? Don’t you have fancy gadgets to tinker with?”

“Daadu,” Nandini said gently, placing a calming hand on his arm. “The doctor said you need to rest, not roast everyone who walks in.”

Grandpa snapped, “How can I rest when he’s here? The person responsible for all my problems!”

Shaurya blinked, incredulous. “What?”

“Don’t act surprised,” Grandpa hissed, pointing a finger in the air like he was delivering a final verdict. “You think rushing me to the hospital buys you sainthood? That you’ve earned points for playing the hero? When the truth is that you’re the reason I fell in the first place.”

Nandini’s gasped and was about to open her mouth in protest, but before she could speak, Grandpa squeezed her wrist gently—a silent message that said,‘Let me handle this.’She hesitated, torn, but this was how it had always been with her grandfather. Charm in one moment, cunning in the next, especially for the people he disliked.

Shaurya took a step forward. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Grandpa replied, fluffing his blanket like a king settling into his throne. “Your nasty little argument the night before—your jabs, your accusations. They were ringing in my ears the whole night and I barely slept. And the next morning, your insults still echoed in my mind, and I lost my balance on the stairs.”

Nandini looked horrified.

So did Shaurya.

Because they both knew, he was lying. Nandini knew what her grandpa said now wasn’t true. He hadn’t fallen because of Shaurya but because of the phone call from her father that had come earlier that morning.

Shaurya’s eyes flashed with anger. “You’re blaming me for your accident?”

Grandpa smirked. “Of course, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be lying here with a fractured ankle.”

Shaurya clenched his jaw so tight that a faint tick was visible on his temple. He knew Keshav Raichand was lying. The manwasn’t even trying to be subtle about it. That smug little curve at the corner of his mouth was proof enough. And one glance at Nandini confirmed she wasn’t buying the drama either. Her eyes had narrowed in disbelief, her lips pressed into a flat line as if silently begging Shaurya not to escalate this any further.