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She was still crafting a response to another vague rejection when a loud yelp echoed from downstairs.

Her heart jumped.

“Daadu!” she gasped, abandoning her laptop and rushing down the stairs, panic tightening her chest.

She ran straight into Lakshmi Aunty, who was stepping out of her grandfather’s room with an amused smile.

“What happened?” Nandini demanded. “Was that Grandpa? Is he okay?”

Lakshmi Aunty waved a hand casually. “He’s fine. Just being dramatic to avoid his new ‘task’ of the day.”

Nandini blinked. “What task?”

“Shaurya is here,” Lakshmi Aunty replied, smirking now. “He’s trying to make your grandfather do some light exercises.”

Nandini’s frown deepened.Was that even allowed?She wondered, already moving towards the room before she could talk herself out of it.

And then she saw him.

The chaos she’d expected was there, yes—but so washe.

Standing at the foot of her grandfather’s bed, with one hand on his hip, the other casually holding a water bottle as though he’d just taken over the entire place. He looked like a man caught mid-action—focused, steady, and in control.

And far too hot for her sanity.

That moment in the kitchen two days ago, when she’d admitted to readingdark romance, of all things, still hung between them like a secret they didn’t know how to unpack. They hadn’t had a private conversation since, and Nandini still wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or annoyed about that.

Grandpa, meanwhile, sat propped against a pile of pillows, his injured leg elevated before him. He gave Shaurya a stink eye as he popped open the cap of the bottle.

“Hydrate first. We’ve got work to do,” Shaurya said calmly.

Grandpa scoffed. “I’m recovering, not training for the Olympics.”

“We’re starting light. Toe curls, with a bit of isometric contraction for the thigh. Some arm raises and shoulder rolls. No weights. No torture. Yet. Now, roll your toes in a circle—clockwise, then anti-clockwise. Ten reps.”

“I can barely see my toes,” Grandpa grumbled, glaring at his foot as if it had betrayed him.

“That’s not the toe’s fault.”

“You’re not a physiotherapist,” Grandpa scolded.

“And you’re not bedridden,” Shaurya replied, unfazed. “I’m only here to help. Five minutes of light mobility is going to help you heal quicker. You want that pizza party or not?”

The old man muttered something but, to Nandini’s surprise, he started rolling his toes like Shaurya had instructed. Clockwise and then anti-clockwise. Slowly.

“Good,” Shaurya said, counting each repetition out loud. “That’s it. Keep going. Breathe while you do it.”

Grandpa exhaled like a dying bull. “Iambreathing. Barely.”

That’s when Nandini burst out laughing.

Both men turned to look at her. Shaurya’s gaze met hers and she shut her mouth with her palm to control her laugh as his gaze lingered over her skin like a whispered dare. Before Grandpa could sense something in their gazes, she tried to suppress the fluttering in her stomach, which happened every time these days when she was around Shaurya.

Shaking off her haze, she turned to Grandpa.

“Daadu, what’s happening?”

“Drama,” Shaurya replied.