Page 25 of When Love Trespassed

Shaurya’s Villa – Next Day Afternoon

Shaurya had been sulking since sunrise. He had spent the better part of the morning brooding like a rejected soap opera hero.

The kind of sulking that made him brood at his poolside garden for hours, sipping a now-lukewarm cup of black coffee and pretending to check emails on his laptop when, in reality, his screen was still stuck on the login page.

His thoughts, unfortunately, were far busier than his inbox.

The phrase kept echoing in his head like a bad ringtone.

Hot and outdated.

Seriously?

By the time Varun sauntered into the villa, wearing that trademark irritating grin, Shaurya was still slouched on the patio near the pool, legs stretched out on the lounger, his laptop resting untouched on his lap.

From where he sat, the Raichand Villa was clearly visible just beyond the mango tree.

Not that he was waiting to catch a glimpse of her or anything.

Absolutely not!

He genuinely liked working from this spot. It usually cleared his mind, gave him ideas, and helped him reset. But today, none of that was happening. All he could focus on were his restless thoughts and the three ridiculous words Nandini had thrown at him the day before.

“Hey, buddy. What happened?” Varun asked, flopping onto the lounger beside him like he owned the place.

“Nothing,” Shaurya muttered broodily, eyes glued to his now cold coffee, refusing to look at him.

“C’mon. Don’t lie to me. I can easily read your face. That’s the face of a man who just got emotionally kicked.”

Shaurya shot him a glare, still clutching his coffee cup like a weapon. “Don’t start.”

Varun raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Let me guess… Nandini?”

Silence.

Then a groan escaped Shaurya.

“That bad, huh?” Varun leaned in, curious now. “Did you talk to her? Tell her about the kiss? About the actual mix-up?”

Shaurya exhaled a tortured breath. He hated that Varun knew him too well. “Yes. I told her. And guess what she said?”

“Oh, this should be good,” Varun said, his eyes lighting up like a kid waiting for a lollipop.

“She called me hot and outdated.”

There was a pause.

Varun blinked, then snorted and then burst into laughter so loudly that a bird twittered and flew out of the mango tree in protest.

“Hot and outdated?” Varun wheezed, nearly falling off the lounger. “What are you—Windows 95?”

Shaurya groaned and dragged a hand over his face like he could erase the memory away. “Glad you’re enjoying this.”

“Oh, I’m ecstatic,” Varun said between chuckles. “Please tell me that’s all she said.”

Shaurya shot him a flat look. “She compared the kiss to an old flip phone, Varun. A damn flip phone. Said it was clunky, awkward, and needed to be warmed up just to make a connection.”

Varun stared at him for a second. Then he lost it. He doubled over, clutching his stomach, laughing all over again. “ A flip phone? ! She actually said that? That’s brutal, man. That’s not even criticism. That’s a full-blown digital insult.”

Shaurya reached for a cushion, briefly considering suffocating him with it.

Varun wiped a tear from his eye, still snorting.

“Dude, maybe it’s time you started dating again. You know, meet people who don’t compare your kissing to obsolete technology.”

“Cut the crap,” Shaurya scowled. “Your brilliant idea of setting me up on a blind date on New Year’s Eve is what got me here in the first place. A woman ten years younger telling me my kiss is ‘outdated’? I don’t need any more of your ridiculous ideas.”

Varun still hadn’t stopped chuckling. “So what are you going to do? Change her mind? Prove her wrong? Upgrade your firmware? Install Kiss 2.0?”

Shaurya shot him a look that could have curdled milk.

Varun scooted closer, pushing aside the laptop that had been pointlessly resting on Shaurya’s lap.

“Look, that’s the problem with Gen Z women. They don’t just feel things—they analyse them. Like technology. And they say it out loud. We millennials? We keep the humiliation internal, where it belongs.”

Shaurya didn’t respond. Which meant Varun was just getting warmed up.

“So,” Varun grinned, “the only way to erase a memory of a bad kiss is to replace it with a better one. I mean… there will be a second kiss, won’t there?”

Shaurya froze. Just for a second.

Varun’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, come on. I’m sure there’ll be a second time.”

Shaurya looked like someone had handed him a baby and told him to raise it. He was that flustered. “Shut up, Varun. It was a mistake. It wasn’t even intentional.”

“But the next one will be,” Varun said, lounging back smugly. “And now that you’ve been publicly branded as Flip Phone 1.0, you kinda owe yourself a do-over.”

Shaurya shook his head, frustrated. Then his jaw tightened. “You’re missing the best part, though. Yesterday, when I met her grandfather, he straight-up blamed me for his fall down the stairs. Said he lost his balance because of something I said the night before.”

Varun’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “Wait—he what?”

“Yeah. Full dramatic performance,” Shaurya said with a humourless laugh. “So I flipped it on him. Told him if I’m to blame, I’ll take full responsibility for it and check on him daily, help him recover. You should have seen his face. You’d think I just offered him boiled broccoli for dessert.”

Varun sat up, clearly more entertained than shocked. “Man, you agreed to check up on her grandfather. Daily? What were you even thinking? So, let me get this straight… you did this because you didn’t want him to have the last word?”

Shaurya shrugged, his mouth twitching just a wee bit. “He tried to blame me for his fall, so I played my card. Now, he has to see the guy he hates, ME, every day in his own house. It’s genius, really.”

Varun gave him a deadpan look. “Oh, oh. So, this isn’t about being near Nandini, right?”

Shaurya rolled his eyes, but the smirk on his lips gave him away.

Varun pointed a finger at him in his usual dramatic flair. “Busted.”

“Shut up and let me work,” Shaurya grumbled, pulling the laptop back onto his lap.

But just as he opened it, his gaze drifted.

Across the pool.

Past the mango tree.

Straight to the balcony of the Raichand Villa.

And there she was.

Nandini, fresh from a shower, was patting her damp hair dry with a towel.

She wore a beautiful lime-green salwar suit, the kind that clung lovingly to her frame in the breeze.

Her skin glowed under the late morning sun, sunkissed and golden, and for a full three seconds, Shaurya forgot how to breathe.

She looked effortlessly radiant, like she’d just stepped out of a shampoo commercial designed to haunt men like Shaurya for days.

As if sensing his gaze, she suddenly looked up. And everything stilled as their eyes locked. From across the garden, through the haze of pride and mango leaves, they just looked at each other.

Then, slowly, her hand lifted in a wave.

Shaurya’s heart kicked into high gear. He lifted his own hand, ready to wave back.

“That’s for me, dude,” Varun said, casually lifting his arm and waving back at Nandini enthusiastically.

Shaurya blinked. “What?”

“She’s waving at me.” Varun grinned, his hand still fluttering in a wave.

Shaurya snapped at him, shocked. “Why are you waving at her?”

“Why not? We’re friends now too,” Varun said innocently.

Shaurya glared at him like he’d just committed a federal crime. Nandini flung her towel over the balcony railing and slipped back inside, leaving a very grumpy Shaurya behind.

Varun stood and stretched. “Well. Time for me to go. I have a mango quota to earn.”

Shaurya narrowed his eyes. “Where are you going?” he asked, already annoyed.

“To visit the Raichands. Haven’t checked on Grandpa since the hospital. Gotta show the old man some love.”

That did it.

Shaurya tossed the laptop aside and got up too. “Fine. I’ll also come with you.”

Varun turned, a smug smile playing on his lips. “Now you’re following me?”

Shaurya slipped his sunglasses off and tucked them into his shirt pocket with an irritatingly calm expression. “I told Mr. Raichand I’d be checking on him. No better time than now. Also, if he thinks I’m the villain, I might as well live up to it… by being painfully helpful.”

Varun chuckled and threw an arm around Shaurya’s shoulder as they headed toward the mango tree.

“Look at you,” he said, grinning widely. “The man who couldn’t commit to brunch plans is now volunteering for daily house calls. Incredible. Now that’s what I call a character arc development.”

Shaurya muttered something under his breath.

But even he couldn’t stop the small grin tugging at his lips.

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

Raichand Villa

Nandini returned to her room, closed the balcony door and leaned against it.

Her heart fluttered wildly, like a moth too close to a flame.

She hadn’t expected to see Shaurya out there this afternoon, stretched out on his patio chair like a cover model of those fancy lifestyle magazines.

Even from that distance, she could see how his hair caught the light, how his posture was relaxed but alert, like a panther pretending to be uninterested.

And then when their gazes met, the way he looked at her… it wasn’t the kind of look you gave someone you just tolerated. It was a look that said he was waiting for one glimpse of her.

Was he?

Her cheeks still warmed at the memory of their conversation yesterday. She caught her reflection in the mirror—flushed cheeks, slightly messy hair, eyes wide and dreamy. Nandini looked every bit like a woman whose morning had been thoroughly thrown off by a man she couldn’t get out of her head.

“Get it together, Nandu,” she muttered to her reflection. “If Grandpa sees this look on your face, he will know you’re crushing on your grumpy neighbour. You don’t want a World War III, do you?”