Page 26 of When Love Trespassed

The thought of Grandpa snapped her back to reality.

She remembered she had left him in the living room an hour ago before heading for a shower.

Since this morning, he’d been grumbling about being cooped up in his room like a prisoner.

So she and Lakshmi Aunty had wheeled him out into the living room to lift his mood.

Nandini quickly applied the nude lip gloss before hurrying downstairs to check on him.

Grandpa sat on his chair, flipping through TV channels with the determination of a man trying to decode the universe through soap operas.

But every few seconds, he kept glancing at the glass doors separating the living room from the garden to the mango tree outside, as if waiting for someone.

“Missing Daadi?” she asked, reaching him.

He smiled. “I miss her every day, Nandu. But at the moment, I am just wondering why he hasn’t come to check on me yet?”

Nandini was confused. “He? Who are you talking about?”

He leaned back, his eyes twinkling. “Who else? That arrogant neighbour of ours. Shaurya Ahuja.”

And just like that, it clicked. Nandini remembered. This was about yesterday, when Grandpa had pinned the blame for his fall on Shaurya. And Shaurya, never one to back down from a challenge, had promised to stop by daily until Grandpa fully recovered.

She folded her arms and faced him. “I still don’t understand why you told Shaurya that he was responsible for your fall? You and I both know that it was because of that call from Papa, and the conversation with him disturbed you. Then how could you blame Shaurya for it?”

Grandpa’s expression barely wavered. “Because he walked in at the perfect time to take the fall. And the best part? He didn’t deny it either. In fact,” he said with a crooked smirk, “he offered to come here every day to help me recover. That alone is my revenge.”

“Grandpa,” she sighed.

He leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself, like someone who won a battle without lifting a finger.

“Just wait and watch. This is how I’m going to take my sweet revenge over all the ridiculous fights and ego battles he’s picked with me over our mango tree.

Let’s see how long he can tolerate me now, in my territory, following my schedule. ”

“Still,” she mumbled, “that’s unfair.”

“You don’t need to feel sorry for him. I’ve known that man for six months, Nandu. He’s incapable of even helping himself, let alone helping someone else. You really think he’s going to show up here daily? Please. He’ll show up once or twice, get bored, and leave. Just wait.”

Before she could answer, the front door opened, and there he was. Shaurya Ahuja, with a tall frame and disapproving jawline, walking into their home like he owned it. Varun followed close behind, already grinning like he was in on a joke no one else had heard.

Nandini’s breath caught as their eyes met first, as if they were drawn to each other out of habit, not intention. She quickly looked away, her heart fluttering traitorously.

He had actually come?

Was he here for her grandfather… or for her?

That question again reminded her of the way she had roasted him yesterday under the mango tree.

She hadn’t meant to call him hot. That had just…

slipped. Just like her resolve had slipped the moment he pinned her gently to the tree, and the intoxicating smell of his cologne filled her lungs, turning her knees to jelly.

And that was when she had said the dumbest thing imaginable. “Hot and outdated.”

It was the only verbal shield she could come up with to deflect how much, how deeply she felt in that moment.

But the truth was… that kiss hadn’t been outdated.

Not in the slightest. It was the kind of kiss that set impossible standards.

The kind that made her toes curl and her pulse race.

The kind her fictional heroines would fantasise about for ten pages straight.

And now he was here. Again.

She barely heard what Varun was saying to her grandfather. Her focus was on Shaurya, who looked far too calm for someone who’d been insulted and emotionally blackmailed into home visits.

Varun stepped in first and greeted Grandpa with the kind of exaggerated cheer only he could get away with. “Oh, wow, Grandpa. You already look halfway healed to me!”

Grandpa beamed, pleased. “It’s all because of Nandini and Lakshmi. They fuss over me like I’m royalty.”

Before anyone else could respond, Shaurya’s voice cut in. “Well, of course. You didn’t leave them much choice after rejecting the male nurse from the hospital.”

Grandpa’s happy smile thinned slightly, turning into a frown. “You are right. But why would I need a nurse now?” He turned his gaze deliberately toward Shaurya. “Not when you’ve so graciously agreed to oversee my recovery personally.”

Varun cleared his throat in a poor attempt to defuse the tension, but Grandpa wasn’t done yet.

“By the way,” he added, “after your little declaration yesterday that you’d show up here every day to look after me, I expected you this morning. Not at brunch o’clock.”

Before Shaurya could retaliate, Varun jumped in smoothly. “Oh, he was busy. That’s why he couldn’t come earlier. Right, Shaurya?”

Shaurya rolled his eyes but said nothing. Grandpa, of course, zeroed in like a hawk.

“Busy? Doing what?” he asked, arching a knowing brow. “Furiously typing on that fancy laptop of his?”

Before Shaurya could fire back, Varun chimed in with a sly grin. “No, no. He was busy fixing some… umm… outdated things back at the villa.”

That did it.

Across the room, Nandini’s eyes snapped to Shaurya. Their gazes collided, charged with something unspeakable. Her breath caught and her cheeks coloured instantly as yesterday’s words from the mango tree returned to haunt her: hot and outdated.

He’d told Varun about it? That means now Varun, too, knew about their kiss that night?

Oh God! Her eyes widened, then narrowed into a glare aimed straight at Shaurya. You told him? Her gaze screamed.

Shaurya’s cocky demeanour faltered and he looked instantly regretful. His expression morphed into panic as he realised just how not okay she was with this. He raised his eyebrows slightly, as if to silently say I didn’t mean for it to come out like this.

But Nandini wasn’t buying it. Not even for a second.

No matter what his expressions said to her, it wasn’t enough. She crossed her arms, her eyes blazing, daring him to explain.

Shaurya, realising the extent of her fury, shot a look at Varun, a look that could’ve peeled paint off a wall. But Varun kept grinning, having no remorse. He was enjoying this.

Nandini dropped her gaze fast, pretending to inspect the nearest tablecloth like it held the secrets to the universe.

“Outdated things?” Grandpa asked, a bit confused.

Varun nodded solemnly. “Yes, yes. He’s quite good at that. Fixes them right up. Anything—obsolete, ancient, forgotten by time… you name it.”

Shaurya shot Varun a deadly look, but Grandpa, oblivious to the subtext, carried on brightly.

“Well then, Nandini,” he said, turning toward her with mock innocence. “Didn’t you say the juicer hasn’t been working properly? Maybe you should let Mr. Ahuja take a look. After all, he seems to be an expert at repairing anything outdated.”

Varun coughed to cover his laughter. Shaurya groaned under his breath. Nandini was mortified.

“No, that juicer’s fine,” she rushed to say, nearly tripping over her own words. “Perfect, actually. Works like a dream. And Grandpa, why don’t you go and rest until lunch. Let me take you back to your room.”

But Grandpa waved her off. “No need. Now that Mr. Ahuja is here, let him fulfil his noble promise. Shaurya,” he said with exaggerated politeness, “just wheel me back to my bedroom. I need some rest.”

Shaurya shot Nandini a quick look that said kill me now, and stepped forward. Fine. If this old man wanted to play, he’d play.

He bent to help Grandpa up from the couch to the wheelchair, but the moment he did, Grandpa grunted dramatically, “Easy, easy! Be gentle with old men. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?”

Shaurya didn’t miss a beat. “The only thing I’ve heard about old men is that they lose their minds quickly over silly things. Is that true?”

Varun snorted, barely holding in his laugh. Nandini groaned and pressed her fingers to her forehead. She didn’t know about old men, but she was definitely going to lose her mind soon if they continued all this.

Grandpa shot Shaurya a disapproving look but said nothing. Once seated, he turned to Varun. “You come too. I don’t trust this one not to roll me down from the wheelchair.”

Shaurya gritted his teeth and gripped the wheelchair handles. “Relax. I don’t hurt old men. Especially not the silly ones.”

Varun gave up trying to hold back and burst into laughter, trailing behind them as Shaurya wheeled the very smug Grandpa down the hallway.

And Nandini stood there, watching them go, with one hand on her hip, and the other brushing back a stray curl that had come loose in all the chaos. She didn’t even realise she was smiling. What ridiculous drama these two were up to, and yet somehow, it was the most fun this house had seen in weeks.

If Shaurya really kept coming here every day, she had no idea what would happen next.

And honestly, she wasn’t entirely sure she minded.

From day one, these two had been at war, long before the staircase incident. Over the infamous mango tree. Every other day, there had been a new verbal attack—about the fruit dropping in Shaurya’s pool or about trimming the branches.

But somehow, those fights, as absurd as they were, still had substance back then. Some depth. Some actual irritation.

And now?

Now they squabbled like kids arguing over who got the last piece of candy. It wasn’t about the mango tree anymore. Now, it was more about one-upping each other. Who got the last word? Who could annoy the other more?

Childish. Funny. And weirdly… kind of sweet.