Page 37 of When Love Trespassed

She sighed, pulling away slightly, arms crossing her chest. “Because they think there’s nothing unique about my products.

That it’s just another line in an already saturated market.

Same ingredients, same promises—just dressed differently.

A new scent here, a new texture there. But nothing new enough that truly stands out. ”

He studied her for a long moment, lost in thought. Then he said with quiet conviction, “Then give them something unique. Bring something to your brand that no one else can. Something only you can offer. Something that has you in it—your passion, your story.”

Nandini frowned, her frustration bubbling back. “Do you think I’ve never tried that? I’ve tried and failed, over and over. I keep searching, Shaurya. I keep digging, brainstorming, and still… nothing sticks. I don’t know where to look for this so-called uniqueness anymore.”

Shaurya stepped in closer, his hand brushing the back of her arm in a quiet gesture of reassurance.

“Then look where you’ve always found your answers,” he said.

“From that quiet space inside you that always knows what is right. The one that’s never let you down.

You know what I mean. You’ve said it yourself—your best ideas don’t come from trend charts or market reports.

They come from you. Your roots. Your memories. Your why .”

She stilled.

He saw her eyes shift, not just in thought, but into her soul, like something old and familiar had just been stirred awake.

“Go back to that,” he added softly. “That mindset. That spark. Learn to trust it again.”

Before she could ask him what he meant, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, then back at her. “I need to take this. You’ll be okay?”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah…”

He stepped away to answer, and she stood there for a second, thinking.

Where she always finds her answers?

She turned, her eyes automatically drawn to the view outside Shaurya’s living room window. The Raichand Villa. And beside it, the mango tree.

The same tree her Daadi had planted.

The same tree under which her childhood had flourished.

And suddenly, like someone had flipped a switch in her head, ideas started flooding in.

Her eyes lit up with the kind of hope she hadn’t felt in months.

Before Shaurya could finish his call, she rushed up to him and kissed his cheek in excitement.

“Thanks!” she whispered only for his ears before she bolted towards the door, practically skipping down his porch steps.

He turned, confused, still holding his phone. And then, he smiled, watching her disappear into the sunlight like she’d just been handed the key to the universe.

And maybe she had.

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

Next Day – Hospital – Orthopaedic ward

Shaurya sat beside Keshav Raichand, waiting patiently as the nurse laid out the tools for the cast removal. The old man grumbled for the third time in ten minutes.

“Why are these hospital rooms always freezing? It’s like they want us to fall sick again just to keep their business running.”

Shaurya smiled, knowing the nurse heard it too. “Or maybe they know cranky old men like you won’t stop throwing tantrums during such procedures, unless distracted by something worse.”

Keshav shot him a look, but it lacked the venom of their previous encounters.

“You think you’re funny, but I know what you’re doing. You are trying to divert me before they bring out that wicked saw.”

“It’s not a saw,” Shaurya deadpanned. “It’s a cast cutter. Safe and efficient. You’re not about to lose a leg.”

“I better not. Or I’ll haunt this hospital, and you better keep your lawyers ready to sue them. One scratch on my skin, and you have my full permission to file a case against them.”

Shaurya chuckled just as the nurse gently began cutting through the plaster.

Grandpa winced slightly but bore it like a soldier.

Shaurya stayed close, watching every movement, ensuring Grandpa was comfortable.

His protective instincts were oddly heightened around the man, despite the fact that they’d spent half their acquaintance insulting each other.

When the cast finally came off, Grandpa stretched his leg slowly, wincing but managing through the discomfort. Shaurya held his elbow, steadying him.

“See? You’re already halfway back to terrorising the neighbourhood.”

“Huh! I was never out of commission,” Grandpa muttered. But his eyes softened.

The doctor gave final instructions—use a walking stick for a few days, start light exercises, avoid sudden movements. Shaurya noted each word like it was a gospel.

Later, as Shaurya drove them back to Raichand Villa, his eyes kept flicking towards the clock on the dashboard, his mind spinning with one thought: How did Nandini’s investor call go?

The ride was smooth, the hum of the engine the only sound. After a few minutes, Grandpa cleared his throat. “You surprise me all the time, boy.”

Shaurya glanced at him briefly before focusing back on the road. “What did I do now?”

“I’m aware that you already know,” Grandpa said, leaning back against the seat, his walking stick resting between his knees. “That I didn’t fall from those stairs because of you.”

Shaurya nodded quietly. “Yeah. I knew.”

Grandpa exhaled. “And still, you took it all upon yourself. The blame, the burden, the massages, the dietary enforcement… all of it. You adjusted your work schedule for me. You didn’t have to do all of that, but still, you did.”

Shaurya didn’t reply immediately. He just kept driving.

“That day,” Grandpa went on, his tone turning more serious, “I had just gotten a call from my son and daughter-in-law. Nandini’s parents. They were asking me to come to London for a vacation.”

Shaurya arched a brow but stayed quiet.

“Can you believe that?” Grandpa gave a dry, almost bitter chuckle.

“They know how much the mango season means to me. How this tree was planted by my wife, how sacred it is to me. And yet, they ask me to leave everything and fly across the world like it’s nothing.

Like I’m just an old man with no work, no attachments. ”

Shaurya still said nothing. He didn’t have to. He finally understood now. Every tantrum Grandpa had thrown about the mango tree, every dramatic sigh or exaggerated scolding, the barbed lectures about the tree—it wasn’t just about control. It was about memory. About loss. About love.

“In that moment of anger,” Grandpa continued, “I stormed up the stairs too fast. I wasn’t watching, and my ankle gave out.

The fall was inevitable. But you—” He turned to face Shaurya.

“You knew it wasn’t your fault. And still, you stayed.

You showed up every day. You took care of me.

And I see it now. I see the kind of man you really are.

You have a heart, my boy, and a big one at that. ”

Shaurya glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

Grandpa grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Well, I had to test you thoroughly. Make sure you weren’t just a pretty face with fancy gadgets and a bad temper.”

Shaurya chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve been a nightmare of a patient, too, by the way. If this hadn’t happened, we’d still be exchanging legal notices over tree branches.”

“You would’ve definitely sent another one, I know,” Grandpa said with mock horror.

He burst into laughter, the tension between them dissolving into something warmer, more genuine.

As Shaurya parked the car inside the gates of the Raichand Villa, Grandpa suddenly placed a hand on his arm before he could step out.

“In these past few weeks,” he said, “you’ve looked after me as if I was your own. Even my own son wouldn’t have done half of what you’ve done for me. I’ll always be indebted to you for that, Shaurya.”

Shaurya squeezed Grandpa’s hand firmly. “You don’t owe me anything, Mr. Raichand. But I’ll admit one thing. Even I didn’t expect to care as much as I do now. So I’ll keep showing up, even when you’re fully back on your feet and don’t need me anymore.”

Grandpa patted his hand, smiling faintly. “Good. We would love that too. Because this family is getting used to having you around, and you are always welcome.”

Then, after a beat, he added with a mischievous gleam in his eye, “And please, quit calling me ‘Mr. Raichand.’ From now on, I’m ‘Grandpa’ for you too.”

Shaurya blinked as the word ‘Grandpa’ struck deeper than he’d thought. It wasn’t just a title; it was a place in the family. An invitation into something he’d never really had. For a long moment, he just stared at the older man, unsure what to say.

“Okay,” he finally said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Grandpa.”

Grandpa chuckled at the way Shaurya said it and then patted his arm again before they stepped out of the car. They were no longer just neighbours, no longer just grumpy rivals. Something had shifted between them permanently. Things had changed for good.

As they entered the living room, Nandini came bounding down the stairs, her maxi dress billowing behind her.

“Daadu! Your cast is off! Finally!” she squealed, wrapping her arms around him, careful not to jostle his still-tender leg.

“Forget me,” he chuckled, patting her back. “Tell us about the investor call.”

Nandini pulled back, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she looked between Shaurya and her grandfather.

“They said yes,” she breathed, still stunned. “The investors agreed. They want to visit in two weeks, right here in Delhi, for an official meeting. And if all goes well… we sign.”

There was a full beat of silence. Then Grandpa let out a triumphant whoop. “That’s my girl!”

His arms opened wide again, and Nandini hugged him tighter, this time burying her face in his shoulder, overwhelmed with relief and pride. He gently rocked her for a second. When she pulled back, her eyes shimmered with hope.

Shaurya stood to the side, quietly watching the two. His lips tugged into a smile, but he said nothing. He just looked at Nandini like she was the only thing in the room that mattered. He was so proud of her that she would finally be able to kickstart her startup again.

Just then, Lakshmi appeared from the kitchen, carrying a small silver tray. “Today’s a blessed day,” she announced with a warm smile. “First, Grandpa is walking again—well, almost—and now Nandini’s investor news. So I made coconut barfi. You must have something sweet today.”

She set the tray down on the coffee table. Grandpa didn’t wait for permission. He picked up a square of the barfi and held it to Nandini’s lips, feeding her with grandfatherly pride as she laughed.

“Now my turn,” he declared, picking a piece of barfi for himself.

Just as he was about to take a bite, he paused, looking over at Shaurya, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

Shaurya gave a small, approving nod. “You deserve it. But just one.”

Grandpa rolled his eyes with mock exasperation. “Now that I’ve healed, I hereby retire you from your recovery duties, Mr. Ahuja.”

The living room erupted with laughter.

“I’ll help Grandpa inside,” Lakshmi offered. “He should rest a bit before tea.”

“I’ll go make the tea,” Nandini added.

Grandpa turned to Shaurya. “Don’t go, okay? We’re having tea together.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Shaurya promised.

As Grandpa left the room with Lakshmi Aunty, Nandini turned and grabbed Shaurya’s hand and pulled him into the kitchen. And once they were inside, out of sight, she threw her arms around him.

“I got it!” she whispered into his chest then pulled away and jumped. “I actually got it, Shaurya.”

He pulled her close, holding her as tightly as she had held him. “I never doubted you,” he murmured into her hair.

“You’re my lucky charm,” she said with a grin that reached all the way to his soul.

“And you’re mine.”

“They’re coming in two weeks,” she repeated, her voice still breathless. “Two weeks, and it’ll be real. Official. I’ll be launching my startup finally.”

“Let’s celebrate.”

“Yes!” she squealed, bouncing on her toes like a child. “We should definitely celebrate.”

And then, without warning, she jumped up and hugged him again, her joy spilling over like sunlight breaking through after a storm. He caught her easily, steadying her, chuckling under his breath as she clung to him.

This wasn’t just her victory.

It was theirs.