CHAPTER 11 #3
I know Siya lost her father a year ago, and I’ve seen enough to know what he meant to her.
So I understand her instinct to protect, and the way she stays just a little more aware when she’s walking beside Baba, even when he doesn’t need it.
She’s not doing this for show, but because she truly cares.
And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice it. Or that I didn’t appreciate it.
Sighing, I shift my gaze, but it finds its way back to her again. The staff guides Siya and Baba towards the setup now. A wide wooden vat is placed at the centre, filled halfway with freshly harvested dark, glossy grapes. It’s large enough for someone to step into comfortably.
Kriti is speaking to the staff, ensuring that everything is arranged properly. For a moment, her eyes flick towards me, staying a second longer than necessary, but I don’t acknowledge it. My focus is elsewhere. On Siya… who is staring at the vat in surprise.
“This is the grape-crushing setup, isn’t it?” she asks excitedly.
Baba smiles, clearly pleased. “Yes. It’s one of the most popular and enjoyable activities of the tour.”
“I’ve heard about this,” she admits, stepping a little closer, her eyes taking in the arrangement with interest. “People actually love this part the most.”
“They do,” Baba nods. “Not for the wine, but for the experience.”
She pauses, studying the vat again.
“Aren’t these usually deeper?” she asks, glancing back at him. “With higher walls and steps to get in?”
Baba smiles at that. “Yes, we have those too. Different setups. The larger ones are used for traditional processing and for adults who want the full experience.” He gestures towards the smaller vat in front of us.
“This one is meant for lighter interaction, mostly for the kids who want to enjoy themselves. We’ll go to the other setups after this. ”
Her expression shifts instantly. She looks at the vat again, then back at him, almost impatient now.
“Can I go in this one?” she asks quickly. “I don’t want to wait.”
Baba nods, amused. “Yes, you can.”
That’s all it takes. She steps forward and slips off her shoes without thinking twice.
She looks at the vat again and steps in.
Her foot sinks into the grapes, the unexpected texture causing her to pause mid-movement.
The expression on her face changes instantly.
Surprise, followed by something almost childlike.
“It feels… different,” she says.
Baba chuckles and asks her to move. She does.
Slowly at first, testing her balance, and adjusting to the uneven surface.
But then a tiny laugh slips out, and little by little, she relaxes into it.
The grapes shift under her weight, and just like that, Siya forgets herself.
She laughs freely and talks to Baba, describing every little sensation she experiences while crushing those grapes.
I can hear Haider saying something beside me, but his words hardly register. I’m engrossed in watching Siya… longer than I should be. Finally, Haider stops mid-sentence and follows my line of sight.
I never thought that a simple grape-crushing experience could bring such joy to someone’s face. Feeling more confident now, Siya lifts her arms slightly as she tries to maintain her balance. Baba tells her to slow down, but she only laughs and replies that she’s enjoying it.
Then her eyes find mine, and when she realises I’m watching her intently, her steps falter. My body reacts before my mind does. I take a step forward, but she steadies herself, adjusts her stance, and slows down after that.
I know I should step back, but I don’t. Because the next second, her balance tilts again. That’s it. Without thinking, I take off my jacket and hand it to Haider, who immediately knows what I’m about to do.
Before Siya can lose her footing completely, I march forward and step into the vat beside her. The crushed grapes sink further under my weight, the texture turning squishy and unstable, but I don’t care. My grab her waist and pull her towards me before she can fall.
Her body crashes against mine, her palm flattening against my chest while her other hand fists the fabric of my polo neck for support.
For a moment, everything around us goes still.
And the worst part is, she doesn’t pull away.
Although she’s surprised, there is no awkwardness or hesitation in the way she clings to me.
As if this… between us… is normal.
Then she looks up at me and pulls her brows together. “What are you doing?” she mutters.
I tighten my hold on her.
“What does it look like?” I reply. “You were about to fall.”
“I could have managed,” she shoots back immediately.
“But you didn’t,” I counter, my gaze still not leaving hers.
Her jaw tightens as she tries to pull away, almost as if to prove her point, but the moment she does, her foot slips again. That’s it. I’m done entertaining this.
Before she can say another word, I bend down, without breaking eye contact, and slide one arm around her back while the other slips beneath her knees. I lift her effortlessly into my arms.
A soft gasp escapes her before she can stop it.
But that’s not what worries me. It’s the sudden silence around us.
I can feel it without looking. Every pair of eyes is on me.
I don’t need to look at Baba, Haider, Kriti, or even the staff standing at a distance to know how this looks from the outside.
Raghav… stepping into the vat.
Raghav… holding a woman.
Raghav… lifting her in his arms. In front of everyone.
No one here expected me to step in for a mere guest like this. My protectiveness and possessiveness are reserved solely for my family. No one else. And yet, here I am, standing inside a wooden vat, holding Siya Vardhaan as if she belongs exactly where she is. In my arms.
Siya reacts a moment later, her hand gripping my shirt tighter as she steadies herself in my arms.
“RK?” she says in a hushed voice. “Put me down.”
I don’t.
“Put you down and let you hurt yourself? Not happening. I don’t want your guards to think we risked your safety here,” I say.
That’s the only reason I can come up with.
Siya glares at me but doesn’t argue further.
I adjust my hold on her and step out of the vat, ignoring everyone’s gaze on us.
The moment I set her down a few steps away, the staff rush forward, handing her a towel, fussing over her, and making sure she’s fine.
Siya is too overwhelmed to respond. I turn around to give her the space to collect herself, only to meet Baba’s knowing gaze. Whatever he saw just now revealed more than I would ever share.
“We should wind up the tour here,” I say, making the decision without waiting for anyone else.
“Wind up?” Baba asks, a bit taken aback. “But what about the wine tasting? That’s the most important part of the tour.”
Of course, he would say that. He built this place with care, hard work, and pride. For him, every aspect of this experience matters. But right now, my focus isn’t on the vineyard; it’s on regaining the control I lost a few minutes ago. I need to get it back.
“She’s here for the next few days,” I add. “She can do the wine tasting anytime she wants. Just not now. Besides, you are already tired from the journey, Baba. I don’t want you getting stressed or exhausted over this. We are leaving.”
I expect Siya to argue, to lift her chin, to throw something back at me, to remind me that she doesn’t take instructions from anyone. But she doesn’t.
“He’s right,” she says, turning to Baba. “I need to clean up anyway.”
Baba sighs and nods in agreement. That settles it. I turn to Haider and give him a small nod. He understands immediately and reaches for his phone, already instructing the staff to bring the buggies around.
The staff quietly resumes their work and clears the setup in no time.
It almost feels like nothing out of ordinary ever happened here.
I hope whatever just occurred doesn’t stretch beyond this place.
Within minutes, the buggies arrive, and we all get in without exchanging a word as we make our way back to the resort.