Chapter 5 #4
“She said a lot. Including a potential eulogy if you didn’t text back. And by the way, Myra and I are friends now. You might want to stop badmouthing her.”
I groaned. “You don’t want to be her friend. She once live-tweeted my food poisoning. With emojis.”
“Are you jealous?”
“Give. Me. My. Phone.”
He finally held it out. I snatched it like a feral squirrel.
But just as I stepped away—
“Oh, and you might want to put a passcode on your phone,” Manav called after me, voice quieter now. “If you don’t want people reading messages from… Vihaan.”
Vihaan.
The name stopped in my throat.
I turned slowly, feet heavy, heart heavier. “What did you just say?”
He exhaled, more serious now. “I didn’t read the messages. Too many. But he called. A lot. Sounded drunk. And sorry.”
My chest tightened.
“You might want to talk to him,” he added gently.
“No. I shouldn’t.”
But the words didn’t sound as sure as they needed to.
He stepped forward. “Are you okay?”
I swallowed hard. “I… I should go.”
He didn’t stop me. Just nodded, watching. His face held no judgment—just quiet concern.
And somehow, that was worse.
Because I wasn’t okay.
And for the first time… someone could see it.
____________
Back in my room, I sat cross-legged on the bed, the phone clenched in my hands like it might disappear again if I blinked.
Vihaan.
His name still echoed like static in my head, buzzing behind every breath.
I couldn’t go there. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
I tapped Dadi’s name and hit “Call.”
It rang. Once. Twice.
Then—
“Kiara, sweetheart!”
Her voice came through like sunlight pouring into a dark room.
“Hi, Dadi,” I whispered, already feeling the sting in my throat again.
“Where have you been, baby? You’ve disappeared! No messages, no calls—”
“Sorry… things got a little busy.” Suddenly, I was that little girl again—curled in Dadi’s lap after a scraped knee or broken heart, soothed by nothing more than her voice.
“I’m okay now,” I lied gently.
She didn’t buy it. She never did.
“Okay is a lazy word, Kiara. It means ‘I’m not ready to tell you how much I want to.’ So try again.”
A breath hitched in my chest.
“I’m tired, Dadi,” I said. “Not just in my body. My heart feels… exhausted. Like I’ve been running and crashing and pretending for so long, I don’t even know what real feels like anymore.”
There was silence on the other end. But the kind that listens, not judges.
“You know,” Dadi added with a chuckle, “when your Grandpa broke my heart for the first time, I threw all his shirts into the pond.”
That made me laugh. “You’re joking.”
“I wish I were. The maid thought I was performing some ancient curse.”
I laughed again, shaky but real. “Did it work?”
“Of course. He came back the next day, soaking wet and very sorry.”
We both giggled, and for a moment, the world felt just a little less broken.
We sat in silence for a beat before she said, “So. You didn’t marry him.”
I froze. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“I know you'd be upset…”
“Oh, darling,” Dadi sighed. “I am not your father.”
“I just…” I hesitated, voice trembling. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Dadi. Everything feels like a mess. I feel like a mess.”
“Well,” she said gently, “Sometimes, a mess is just the beginning of a masterpiece. You just haven’t stepped far enough back to see the bigger picture.”
I swallowed hard.
“I feel like I’ve failed,” I admitted. “I walked away from something everyone else wanted for me. Dad—he won’t even take my calls.”
“He’s just… sulking. You know how he gets. He was probably more in love with the Singhania business proposal than with Vihaan himself.”
That made me laugh, albeit bitterly. “Probably.”
“And between us?” she added, lowering her voice theatrically. “You did the right thing. His nose was asymmetrical anyway. That would’ve annoyed you for life.”
I burst out laughing. “Dadi!”
“What? It’s true. That nose was a whole directionless triangle. And don’t even get me started on the way he blinked. Like a suspicious lizard.”
“Oh my God, please stop.”
“You deserve someone who sees you, Kiara. All of you. Not just the polished version. The messy, moody, brilliant girl with the bad temper and a golden heart.”
I felt the tears rising again. But this time, they didn’t feel heavy.
“I don’t know if I believe in love anymore,” I admitted. “Or myself.”
“Well, then,” she said, “Borrow some of mine. Until you remember how.”
I bit my lip, the warmth in her words spreading like light through all my broken pieces.
“Take another chance, dear,” she said softly. “In life. In love. On yourself. I don’t know what happened with Vihaan, and frankly, I don’t care. But I know you. And you’re not someone who was born to settle.”
“Even if I fail again?” I whispered.
“Oh, sweetie.” Her voice wavered with emotion. “Failing means you were brave enough to try. And that is never something to be ashamed of.”
Silence settled again, thick with love and everything I didn’t have words for.
“You’re going to be okay,” she added. “And when you’re not okay, call me. I’ll remind you who you are.”
I closed my eyes, letting the tears fall freely now.
“Thank you, Dadi.”
“For what?”
“For being the only person who doesn’t expect me to be perfect.”
“Well, someone has to balance out your father’s perfection obsession,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “Besides, you’re perfect in your own wildly complicated way. And don’t you forget it.”
I smiled, clutching the phone close.
“I love you, Dadi.”
“I love you more, beta. Now go out there and start living again. And for God’s sake, if there’s a decent-looking man nearby, flirt a little. Not all men are lizards.”
We spoke a little longer—about mundane things: her new knitting obsession, the neighbor’s barking dog, and a recipe she wanted to teach me when I was “done sulking on beaches with mysterious boys.”
But when we hung up, something in me felt… lighter.
I just sat there, the room wrapped in darkness and Dadi’s words still echoing through it like a melody I hadn’t heard in years.
Take another chance, Kiara. In life. In love. On yourself.
My fingers traced the edge of the phone screen absently. I wasn’t crying anymore, but something inside me still ached—a quiet, bruised part of my heart that hadn’t been touched in a long time.
Vihaan’s name stared back at me from the notifications bar. Missed calls. Messages. I turned the screen off.
That wasn’t the chance Dadi meant.
She was talking about something else.
Something… new.
My mind drifted back to earlier.
The way Manav had taken the phone from my shaking hands. The way he hadn’t asked too many questions. Hadn’t demanded explanations. He’d just… stepped in, quiet and solid, like a wall I didn’t realize I needed until I was leaning against it.
And then later, when I froze up at the sound of Vihaan’s name, he didn’t push. He didn’t pry. He just stood there, a foot away, like an anchor I could choose to hold onto or walk away from.
He didn’t try to fix me.
He just stayed.
I curled up by the window, knees to my chest, staring out across the courtyard. His room was still lit. Probably reading. Probably overthinking, like always.
Maybe I wasn’t ready for love.
But maybe I was ready for something.
A conversation. A walk. A beginning.
For the first time in six months, I grabbed my laptop and opened the unfinished last chapter of my novel.