Page 29 of When Love Trespassed

“Wait,” Nandini said. “You made samosas?”

“Yes, she did,” Grandpa replied proudly. “I was craving it.”

As he reached for the plate, Shaurya stepped forward and snatched it away. “Absolutely not.”

“What the hell—?” Grandpa gasped, pulling his hand back.

“This is not on your diet. You’re on medication and are recovering. You don’t get greasy street food,” Shaurya declared.

Grandpa looked personally betrayed. “Who do you think you are to stop me?”

Shaurya folded his arms. “The man responsible for your recovery, remember? You made me that the moment you blamed me for your fall. So now your diet is my business.”

He handed the tray back to Lakshmi. “Take this back, please. Give him something healthier.”

Grandpa looked like he was ready to explode. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Maybe,” Shaurya winked and said coolly. “Payback’s delicious and oil-free.”

Nandini bit back a smile. “For once, I’m with him. You do need to eat better, Daadu.”

Grandpa slowly turned towards her. “You too?”

She nodded. “Your BP has been acting up. You need healthy food. I promise I’ll make samosa chaat for you when you’re better.”

Grandpa grumbled and crossed his arms. “Fine. But I’m having pizza at the party. And you two are not stopping me.”

“You can have pizza,” Shaurya replied, already pulling out his phone which buzzed just then. “Just not with extra cheese.”

Nandini stifled a laugh and saw Shaurya head out to take a work call lighting up his phone. But just before stepping out, he looked back.

It wasn’t just a glance, but a deliberate turn of his head. His eyes found hers, holding them like they had every right to. Her breath caught as her eyes lingered on him too.

That same charge that had been following them ever since their first kiss.

She tilted her head, a smile threatening to break free. Shaurya didn’t say a word. He simply lifted the phone to his ear and walked out as if nothing had passed between them.

But that ghost of a grin tugging at his lips? It spoke volumes.

Pizza party or not, he was already in way too deep.

And if Nandini’s pulse had a say, it was already betraying her by beating far too fast for someone who was claiming to be indifferent to her hot neighbour.

As he disappeared down the hallway, Nandini and Lakshmi followed slowly behind.

“You know,” Nandini said offhandedly, trying to sound casual, “I think Daadu’s finally met his match.”

Lakshmi let out a low chuckle. “Maybe he’s not the only one.”

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… he did want 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.

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 was he .

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 reading dark 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. “I am breathing. 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.

“You call this torture drama? I actually felt a spasm,” Grandpa declared.

“You yelped before I even touched you,” Shaurya countered dryly.

Grandpa rolled his eyes, clearly not ready to admit defeat. He was indeed putting on quite a show over the new exercise routine Shaurya had suddenly added to his daily recovery schedule.

Nandini walked over and crouched beside her grandfather. “Daadu, he’s not asking you to run a marathon. Just a few easy stretches. I think it’s a great idea.”

He looked at her like she’d switched sides in a war. “You support this madness?”

“If it helps you heal faster, absolutely.”

He sighed like the world had betrayed him. “I miss the days when being injured meant I got tea, sympathy, and no orders.”

“You still get the tea,” Nandini said. “Now rotate your toes again.”

He obeyed reluctantly, mumbling something again under his breath.

After two sets of toe curls and an attempted quad contraction, he slumped back with a groan.

“This is revenge,” Grandpa huffed. “You’re getting back at me for all those arguments we had over the mango tree.”

Shaurya smiled calmly. “That’s another fight we’ll continue once you’re better.”

Grandpa glared at him. Then at Nandini. Then, back at Shaurya.

“If this is what your recovery plan involves,” he said, breathless and bitter, “I don’t want you coming here to ‘help’ me recover. My Nandu’s love and care are more than enough.”

Shaurya stood, smug and unbothered. “Noted. But I’m not going to turn back on my words. I never do. So, whether you like it or not, I’ll be here anyway, and you have no choice. You’re stuck with me.”

“This is dictatorship,” Grandpa grumbled, wincing slightly as he rolled his toes again. “I wish Varun was here to save me from you.”

“He won’t be,” Shaurya replied coolly. “At least not until the weekend. I’ve strictly told him to stay away till the pizza party. He’s too much of a distraction to your regime.”

“Distraction?” Grandpa scoffed. “He makes me laugh. I feel better when he’s around. Unlike you , who I dislike very much.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Shaurya shot back smoothly, crouching down again to adjust the towel under the cast. “Now finish the last set of toe rolls. Let’s go.”

Grandpa mumbled something under his breath but did as told, flexing and circling his toes like it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

Nandini shook her head, biting back a grin. “I’ll make some tea for us. Happy exercising, Daadu.”

She bent down to kiss her grandfather’s cheek, and he smiled like he’d just been handed a medal for suffering through the exercises. But when she glanced at Shaurya before turning to leave, something in his expression—quiet, intense, almost boyish—made her falter for a second.

His eyes lingered on her like he was half expecting a kiss too.

Nandini’s cheeks flamed. She turned quickly and walked out, praying he hadn’t seen the way her lips twitched in response.

But he had.

Shaurya turned back to the older man with a smug little smirk.

“Back to work, Mr. Raichand. Tea break is still three reps away.”

Grandpa rolled his toes again, defeated but not broken. As he moved through the final reps, he wondered how the tables had turned.

He had been the one who wanted revenge—payback for every bitter argument and every sharp-tongued exchange they’d ever had.

But somehow, Shaurya had flipped the situation in his favour.

Now, he was the one having all the fun… tormenting him in return, all under the polished, noble guise of helping him recover.