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Lakshmi let out a low chuckle. “Maybe he’s not theonlyone.”

Nandini blinked, her step faltering. “What?”

Lakshmi gave her a knowing look and gently patted her arm. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. All those eye locks between you two, they are anything but plain and boring.”

Nandini’s cheeks flushed bright pink. “Aunty, it’s not… it’s not like that.”

Lakshmi raised an eyebrow. “I’m not judging. I’m just saying what I see. And what I see is a man who willingly puts up with your grandfather’s tantrums every single day, just to be around you.”

That shut her up instantly.

Nandini looked away, heat creeping up her neck. She hadn’t expected Lakshmi Aunty to see it, let alone say it out loud. She’d barely admitted it to herself.

“But be careful, Nandini. He’s already been through a marriage, and you’re still figuring out your life. I’m not saying love can’t happen between different worlds or ages, but just be sure it’s what you truly want. Don’t let the heat of a moment lead to something you might regret later.”

Nandini nodded, swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “I’m not… getting into anything. I mean, yes, he’s… hot and attractive. And kind of addictive and fun to argue with. But that’s all it is. I don’t think he even sees me that way.”

Lakshmi gave her a look full of wisdom and mischief. “What if he does?”

Nandini had no answer to that. Only a flutter in her chest and the memory of that look he’d given her moments ago—the kind of look that didn’t feel neighbourly at all.

Lakshmi gave her another reassuring squeeze. “Don’t overthink it now. Let time do its work. It always knows what’s best. I’ll get lunch going. You freshen up.”

Nandini nodded absently, though she wasn’t sure exactly when her feet carried her back to her room. Her mind was too chaotic. Too full.

Was it that obvious? And if Lakshmi Aunty could see it… what about Shaurya?

What if… hedidwant more? And what if… maybe, just maybe she wanted more too?

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

Two Days Later

Nandini sat cross-legged on her chair, her laptop open in front of her, a barely-touched mug of coffee by her side, and a mind that simply refused to stay on task. Her inbox was bursting, her investor spreadsheet open, but her focus kept drifting to Shaurya, even when he wasn’t physically here.

Surprisingly, Shaurya had turned Raichand Villa into his unofficial second office. Every day, like clockwork, he showed up with his phone buzzing in one hand, determination written on his face, and a cool confidence that was so damn attractive. His work calls never stopped—financial reviews, strategy updates, staff briefings—but the moment he walked through the door, he’d push it all aside, wearing that infuriating calm like a second skin.

For what?

To take care of her grandfather. A man who had not only never thanked him but had made a full-time sport out of making Shaurya’s life miserable.

Yesterday was the perfect example.

Her grandfather had suddenly decided he wanted someone to read the newspaper aloud to him. Not because he couldn’t. His vision was perfectly fine. But only because Shaurya had volunteered to help him heal faster. And in his words,“Healing is a full-body experience, and that includes auditory stimulation.”

Shaurya had tried to protest. Meanwhile, Nandini, who had walked in just then, had offered to read to her grandfather, but Shaurya had frowned, taken the newspaper from her, and settled down with a sigh like it was a constitutional duty.

He’d read it all—headlines, sports columns, and even a rather bizarre article on mango export tariffs—just because her grandfather had approved those as“mentally stimulating content.”

The whole thing had gone for nearly an hour before Grandpa dozed off mid-article, and Shaurya finally left after taking a call right outside the room, pacing like the CEO he was and not the part-time personal nurse he was currently pretending to be.

And now, it was a new day.

God only knew what her grandfather had in store for him this time, she thought.

Nandini sighed and turned back to her screen. Investor rejections. Again. Polite no’s dressed up as “maybe laters.” The last investor she’d nearly signed with had backed out at the last minute, saying her organic beauty startup wasn’t ‘scalable enough.’

She was exhausted. No matter how well she pitched, how passionately she presented her formulations and market research, the doors kept on closing.