Page 69 of When Love Trespassed

And when Elise & Co., a famous e-commerce company, offered to onboard Ambika Organics onto its platform, with nationwide distribution and exclusive promotional campaigns, it marked a turning point for the brand.

Her products had slowly started building a loyal customer base.

Reviews poured in, not just filled with praise for the product’s effectiveness but also for the emotion behind the brand.

And now, Nandini was knee-deep in the next chapter of her company—launching the first set of offline stores for Ambika Organics. She was no longer just a woman with a dream to kickstart her company. She was an entrepreneur in every sense, one whose vision had come to life, piece by piece.

Despite her growing business, Nandini never let her home take a backseat.

Her mornings began with Grandpa, enjoying tea and warm conversation under the mango tree, while her afternoons were devoted to her work calls and product planning.

Evenings were reserved for her husband, and she and Shaurya often cooked dinner together in their cosy kitchen.

And the best part? They never let Grandpa eat alone. Now, all his meals were shared with Nandini and Shaurya at their villa.

The old mango tree had now become the family’s favourite gathering spot. A new wicker sofa had been added beneath its shade, making room for early morning chai and sunset chats. On most days, Lakshmi and Meera would join in too, not wanting to miss out on gossips and gupshups.

Now, back inside his villa, Shaurya walked over to his bedroom door and knocked softly. It was locked. A muffled “Just a second!” came from inside.

Moments later, Nandini swung the door open, still in her bathrobe. The saree she’d planned to wear for the evening ceremony lay neatly folded on the bed, completely untouched.

“Is Grandpa ready?” she asked.

Shaurya nodded silently. She turned away with a huff. “Great. Of course he is. And you’re ready too. Why is it always you two who manage to be on time for everything? I swear, I try to be early, but somehow, I always end up racing against the clock.”

She moved across the room, still talking as she rubbed lotion into her arms. Shaurya watched her, captivated.

One year into their marriage, and she still had this pull over him.

That same inexplicable pull he’d felt the first time he saw her.

It hadn’t faded a bit. If anything, it had only deepened.

They had spent the whole morning at Priya’s home, where all of the day’s festivities were being held, staying close to Varun and Priya, helping them get ready, calming pre-event jitters, and keeping everything running smoothly.

Even Daadu had been there until lunch, proudly supervising every little detail.

But Nandini had to leave earlier than planned for a vendor call that she simply couldn’t postpone any longer, no matter how much she wanted to stay.

Now, they were just about to head back for the main event: the engagement.

“I can’t believe this whole thing starts in under an hour,” she said, her words tumbling over each other. “I should’ve just worn an Anarkali suit or something. What was I thinking with this saree—”

Shaurya walked in, smiling, and made his way to the dressing table, where Nandini was seated on the ottoman. He pulled up a chair beside her, made himself comfortable, and reached for the bottle of lotion in her hand.

“Here,” he said softly, uncapping it. “Let me.”

She blinked. “Shaurya, there’s no time—”

“Which is exactly why you need to stop rushing. Let me take care of this,” he interrupted, squeezing a little lotion into his palm.

Without a word, he took her arm in his hand and began rubbing in the lotion with slow, deliberate strokes, his thumbs circling over her forearm. She watched him silently, the tension in her shoulders slowly beginning to ease.

Then, after a while, his hands started wandering, casual at first, then deliberately slipping lower, his fingers brushing across her thigh. The bathrobe had already ridden up a few inches without her noticing, and when his fingers grazed her bare skin, she gave him a look.

“Shaurya…”

His touch had already turned rogue, his fingers now trailing along the line of her legs. His grip grew firmer, his hands sliding just a bit higher. She gasped, not out of shock, but because she knew that look in his eyes.

In the very next moment, he tugged her effortlessly into his lap, her robe bunching even higher around her thighs.

“Shaurya, we’re going to be so late ,” she said half-heartedly, even as he brushed a kiss along her neck.

“Then we’ll blame it on the traffic,” he murmured against her skin, his hands still roaming, still massaging, still worshipping.

Nandini giggled, turning to face him. “Traffic? In Serene Meadows?” she teased. “You do realise that the engagement is at Priya’s villa, just across the road. Not exactly a highway delay you can use as an excuse.”

Shaurya grinned, unbothered. “They won’t question us. We’re married after all, remember?”

She let out a breathy laugh, her fingers curling into his kurta. “You’re impossible.”

“And you,” he whispered, pulling her closer, “are irresistible.”

“My body’s actually sore,” she admitted with a small sigh. “All this running around, and today’s event on top of it… I think I’ve been walking around like a tightly wound spring.”

He nodded, still focused on her skin. “What you need is a relaxing spa day.”

She laughed wryly. “I have no time for that. Definitely not in the next two or three days.”

He grinned again, his tone dipping lower, huskier. “I can always help.”

She knew exactly what he meant, and her cheeks flushed with heat at the memory.

One evening, a few months back, her shoulders had ached, her feet were sore, and her patience stretched thin.

She’d been pouring everything she had into building her brand without a break, and Shaurya had noticed the toll it was taking on her, mentally and physically.

He had sat her down on their bed, a warm towel and bottle of lavender-infused massage oil in hand, insisting she let him take care of her, promising her a relaxing full-body massage.

He’d started at her shoulders, his fingers firm and slow, kneading away the tension from her muscles.

But it hadn’t stayed innocent for long. His palms had drifted lower, trailing heat down her spine, settling at her waist. And when she shifted under his touch, he’d leaned in and pressed a kiss to her collarbone, and all the way down.

Her negligee had slipped further, their bodies aligning instinctively as desire unfolded between them.

The massage oil never quite made it to her feet.

His hands, once kneading her soreness, were now worshipping her curves.

The massage had turned into a slow, sensual love making instead, and they’d ended up in a heap of breathless laughter and tangled sheets, with zero muscle relief.

Her blush deepened at the memory.

“You know,” he murmured, “you should be flustered more often. It’s kind of hot.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth lifted despite herself. “I’m going to be late, and you’re flirting?”

Then she leaned in a little closer, her voice taking on a sultry tone. “And just so you know, the last time you ‘helped,’ I was even more sore the next day. The things we did was a full-body workout in itself.”

He finally looked up, that signature cocky glint lighting his eyes. “But you loved it.”

She gave him a slow, knowing smile, then leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Absolutely,” she said, pulling away and taking back the lotion bottle from him.

“Okay, Mr. Smooth,” she added, arching a brow. “Now, if you really want to help, help me with the saree pleats.”

Shaurya grinned. “More than happy to help.”

Moments later, she stood in front of the mirror, the deep emerald green saree draped around her, its fabric shimmering under the golden light.

Shaurya stepped up beside her and began adjusting the pleats at her waist. She watched him through the mirror, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration, like he was tending to something delicate and precious.

Because to him, she was all that… and more.

Once the pleats were secured, he knelt slightly to fix the lower folds, then rose again and reached for her jewellery box.

Without her pointing out, he picked out her matching earrings.

After making her wear them, he took the necklace and clasped it around her neck, his fingers brushing the Mangalsutra already resting there.

Finally, he took a pinch of sindoor between his fingers and filled the parting of her hair, an intimate gesture that always made his heart clench. She met his eyes through the mirror, her eyes shining with unspoken emotion.

Draped in the saree her husband had so lovingly helped her wear, she looked every bit the woman who had turned his world upside down.

A year had passed since Nandini became his wife. And yet, moments like this, dressing her with love, with reverence, still left him in quiet awe.

It reminded him of everything they had built and how far they had come. Even now, there were moments when he still couldn’t believe it was real.

She was his. His bride.

And he knew, he’d ever get tired of reminding her of it, again and again.

Priya’s Villa – Serene Meadows (Late Evening)

Guests mingled across the lawn, each one more excited than the other. Waiters moved fluidly through the crowd with trays of drinks, the air scented with a mix of jasmine, sandalwood, and mango blossom.

Varun’s parents stood near the patio, warmly greeting friends and relatives, their faces lit with quiet joy. After all the waiting and planning, they were finally watching their son step into his happily ever after. And it showed in every smile, every proud glance they exchanged.