Chapter 7 OPERATION NEEL BEGINS #2
Aditya’s expression changes instantly. Not pity. Just attention. I continue before the moment becomes too heavy.
“He had cancer,” I say simply. "So he was constantly ill, but he was still there." The memory flickers briefly in my mind—the hospital smell, the long nights, the way Neel used to fall asleep on my shoulder in waiting rooms. “Neel was only four,” I add softly.
Aditya’s fingers tighten slightly around his cone. “So everything after that…” he begins.
“I handled everything,” I finish with a small shrug. The shrug is automatic. Like it’s always been.
Life just became a list of things that needed doing. Aditya watches me quietly. For a long moment he doesn’t say anything. Then he nods slowly.
"Neel's mother died at his birth," I whisper, "some complications," I blink, "So he never really knew either of his parents," I smile sadly, suddenly feeling restless.
“I hate how he never felt the parental love, because my father was the best father ever.” I smile proudly, "he was stupidly kind and put people before himself, but he loved me like I was a princess." I swallow the lump forming in my throat. "So I feel sad Neel didn't get to experience that."
"But he does Divya," he says softly, "you might not see it, but I do," Something about the way he says it—calm, almost casual—makes my chest ache a little. "You are his parent, you love him like one, Divya." He beams, "and he's so lucky to have you and he knows that, it's visible."
I bite my lips and sniffle slightly, chuckling. I have always felt so lost with Neel because I was not prepared for all of it, for wondering if I am doing it right and having no one to confirm but hearing him say it somehow lightens the weight I always carry in my chest.
Aditya leans back slightly in his chair, studying me again. “You know something?” he says slowly.
“What?”
“You missed a lot.” The words land gently. Not accusing. Just observant.
I blink. “What do you mean?”
“Teenage years,” he says. “Careless things. Silly things.” He gestures vaguely with his cone. “Late night ice cream with friends. Getting into trouble. Bad decisions you laugh about later.”
I smile faintly. “That sounds very irresponsible.”
“It sounds like being young.” The statement lingers between us.
And for the first time I realize something uncomfortable. He’s right. I did miss those years.
Aditya suddenly stands. “Come on.”
“What?”
“Field research.”
Before I can protest he walks to the counter and buys something small wrapped in bright pink paper.
When he comes back he drops it onto the table in front of me.
Cotton candy.
I stare at it.
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“That is pure sugar.”
“Exactly.” He tears off a piece and hands it to me.
“Step one of recovering your teenage years.” I laugh despite myself.
“You are unbelievable.”
“Try it.” I do. The sugar dissolves instantly on my tongue and suddenly I’m laughing harder than I have in weeks.
Aditya watches me like he’s accomplished something important.
Satisfied.
We leave the shop a little later, stepping back into the cooler night air. The street is quieter now.
Shops closing. Lights dimming. We walk slowly toward home again. At one point Aditya stops beneath a streetlight and looks up.
“Wait,” he says.
“What?”
“Close your eyes.”
I stare at him.
“No.”
“Trust me.”
“That sentence has never worked on me.”
He sighs dramatically. “Just try it.”
Reluctantly, I close my eyes. “Okay,” he says softly. “Make a wish.”
I open one eye. “This is extremely suspicious.”
“Just do it.”
I close my eyes again. For a second I think about something practical. More money for the shop. Neel’s future. Then something else slips quietly into my mind instead. Something softer.
I want to be happy.
When I open my eyes again, Aditya is watching me carefully. “Don’t tell me what it was,” he says.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m going to try to make it happen anyway.”
The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. We stand there for a moment longer under the dim streetlight.
Then he sighs lightly. “Well,” he says thoughtfully, “this wasn’t the best first date.”
I stare at him. “What?”
He shrugs. “It was rushed. Poor planning. Minimal romantic atmosphere.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “I thought you said you were a detail-oriented person.”
“Exactly, I didn't get much time after my impromptu promise.” He gives me a sheepish smile. “I’ll do better next time.”
Something warm spreads quietly through my chest. Before I even think about what I’m doing, I step forward and wrap my arms around him. The movement surprises both of us. For a second he freezes. Then slowly, carefully, he hugs me back.
“You don’t have to try better,” I murmur against his shoulder. “This was… the best.” I pull back slightly and look up at him. “More than I deserve.”
Aditya’s expression softens again. That same gentle look. The one that makes my chest tighten every time. “Divya,” he says quietly. “You deserve much more than ice cream and cotton candy.”
Maybe he’s right. But as we start walking home again under the quiet glow of streetlights, he intertwines his fingers with mine and I realize something. For someone who never expected to go on a single date in her life—this one will be impossible to forget.