Chapter 22 #2
Ishani was propped against pillows, eyes half-closed, but clearly listening. A small smile played at her lips.
"So," Raghav said, gesturing Vikram toward a chair before taking the one opposite, "you're in love with your wife. Congratulations. What's the problem?"
Vikram sat, running both hands through his hair. "The problem is I don't know what to do about it."
Raghav raised an eyebrow. "Tell her."
"It's not that simple."
"It literally is."
"No, it's not." Vikram leaned forward. "She's convinced herself this marriage is temporary. That she's here because I ruined her life and guilt-married her. She has an entire system for dismissing evidence that contradicts her belief that she's ordinary and invisible."
"So show her she's not."
"I've been trying! I arranged that photoshoot. I defend her at every opportunity. I..." He broke off, frustrated. "She just files everything under 'professional courtesy' or 'maintaining appearances.' Everything."
Raghav considered this. "Okay. Different approach. How did you figure out you love her?"
"I read her notebook." At Raghav's look, Vikram added quickly, "By accident.
She'd fallen asleep at her desk. I found it while marking her place.
" He paused. "She's loved me since she was sixteen.
Since before we even met. And now she's convinced I married her out of obligation and in two years I'll move on to someone worthy of me. "
Something shifted in Raghav's expression, recognition, maybe, or understanding. "Ishani did that. Decided the most rational explanation of the gifts was the one that didn't involve me actually wanting her. Very efficient. Extremely annoying."
From the bed, Ishani made a sound of protest. "I was being practical."
"You were being impossible," Raghav corrected, but his tone was fond. He looked back at Vikram. "Here's what worked for me: don't try to logic her out of it. She's built these walls with logic. More logic won't break them down."
"Then what will?"
"Make her feel it before she hears it." Raghav settled into advice mode.
"She's twenty-three. Give her a fairy tale.
Make her feel seen. Specifically. The details only someone paying real attention would know.
Make her feel pursued, the way a twenty-three-year-old girl wants to be pursued.
Like she's worth the effort. Worth the drama. Worth everything."
He paused. "Make her feel like the heroine of her own story. Not the assistant in yours."
The advice landed with unexpected weight.
"Don't do the puppy thing," Ishani called out suddenly.
Raghav's head turned toward her. "What puppy thing?"
"You were about to suggest a puppy. I can tell."
"I was not..."
"You were." Ishani sat up slightly. "We already have a puppy."
"More puppies are good!" Raghav protested.
"Puppies mating will bring more puppies."
Vikram felt a laugh bubbling up despite everything. "I'm not getting a puppy."
"Good," Ishani said.
"I'm an actor," Vikram continued. "Drama is what I do. I can figure out romance without resorting to pets."
"Can you?" Raghav asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. "Because you've been married for weeks and just now figured out you're in love with her."
"That's different."
"Is it?"
Vikram opened his mouth. Closed it. "I hate you."
"You love me. I'm your favorite brother."
"You're my only brother."
"Which makes me the favorite by default." Raghav's expression turned more serious. "Look, here's the real advice: you know her better than anyone. You've been watching her for months. You know what she likes, what makes her smile, what she wants but won't ask for. Use that."
He leaned forward. "But Vikram, be careful. She's fragile in ways she doesn't show. If you come on too strong too fast, you'll scare her. She'll run. Or worse, she'll stay and convince herself even harder that it's all just pity or duty."
"So what do I do?"
"Small things. Consistent things. Things that show you're paying attention. Things that can't be explained away as professional courtesy." Raghav paused. "And for God's sake, stop letting her call you 'Boss.'"
Vikram winced. "She does it reflexively..."
"Because you let her. It gives her distance. Every time she says it, correct her. Gently. But consistently."
From the bed, Ishani added, "And don't hover. You look at her like you're planning escape routes in case someone threatens her."
"People do threaten her..."
"Yes, but you can't bodyguard her 24/7. She needs to feel safe, not monitored.
" Ishani shifted. "Also, compliment her.
Specifically. Not 'you look beautiful', she won't believe that.
But 'I love how you organize chaos' or 'the way your mind works fascinates me.
' Things she can't dismiss as generic flattery. "
Vikram absorbed this, mentally noting every piece of advice.
"How long do you have?" Raghav asked suddenly.
Vikram looked up. "What?"
"Before this becomes impossible. Before some external factor makes it harder. How long?"
"Filmfare is in three weeks. After that, it's promotional circuit for two months. Constant media. Constant scrutiny. Constant pressure."
"So you have three weeks," Raghav said. "Three weeks to make her feel it before the chaos makes everything harder."
Three weeks. Twenty-one days to break down walls that had taken twenty-three years to build.
"That's not enough time..."
"It’s enough. I gave myself seven days." Raghav's voice was kind but firm. "So use it. Start today. Right now. Before she wakes up and puts her armor back on."
Vikram stood, feeling something click into place. Purpose. Direction.
"Thank you," he said, meaning it.
"Don't thank me yet. Thank me when she stops thinking this is temporary." Raghav walked him to the door. "And Vikram? Whatever you do, don't tell her you love her. Not until she's ready to believe it."
"How will I know when she's ready?"
Raghav smiled. "You'll know. Trust me. You'll know."
Vikram nodded and stepped out. He stopped at a window overlooking the garden, watching the sun climb higher, painting everything gold.
He had played romantic leads for a decade. Had made audiences believe in love stories on command.
Now it was time to write his own.
And this time, this one time, it had to be perfect.
Because this time, it was real.