“Please rest,” he whispered, his throat feeling like a glug of thick syrup was stuck within. “I’ll leave now. Thank you for inviting me to your home.”
Nanaji’s eyes glazed over, a flicker of a smile tickling the edge of his lips as the medicines finally took effect, allowing him to slip into a restful sleep.
Vihaan stood watching over Ambernath for a few more minutes, almost afraid to move. He hadn’t expected to feel so affected by the stark changes in the man he’d known versus the frail human who’d shown a child-like trust in him, grateful for his help in shielding his dirtied body from the female nurses. And then, in the course of a single conversation, he went from a person who was lucid and present to someone who was losing himself deeper and deeper in the labyrinth of memories that were eroding with time.
How did his Vera deal with this? He’d always known she was strong, but where did she find the fortitude to witness her grandfather fading away in front of her, and still function without descending into a depressive state?
Had she experienced her grandfather forgetting her?
If he felt this wrecked over Nanaji suddenly not recognizing him, how affected must Vera have been?
His mind was in a turmoil, troubled anew by the realisation of how much Vera had undergone alone in the last decade and a half. Of the things her younger self had to have borne without any help from anyone. No wonder she’d called him out on leaving her when she’d needed him most. No wonder she couldn’t forgive him easily.
Wound in his own thoughts, Vihaan slipped out the door, never realising that the indicator on the camera monitor inside Nanaji’s bedroom had been blinking red the entire time.
42
Revival
Vera
The air smelled different.Earthy and cool. Vera took a deep breath in, closing her eyes. Her chest lifted as she inhaled, her lungs filling with a freshness that made her feel almost buoyant. Something was changing and she wasn’t sure if it was just the weather that had her feeling this way.
It was as though she was seeing daybreak after an age of rolling thunderclouds.
Vera threw a glance back at the house, most of the lights dim. Standing in their personal garden, she felt tucked away, hidden from the rest of the world. She loved it here, even if she’d never said as much to Vihaan. She could run in circles here dressed like a clown, and the rest of the house would be oblivious. She raked a hand over the flowering bushes as she strolled toward the thicket of trees that made her feel like she was in her own version of The Secret Garden. Such privacy, after a lifetime of living in small quarters, was a luxury that Vera didn’t quite know what to do with.
The serenity here had helped Nanu, however. Away from the bustling noises of the city and the constant distractions and disturbances within a care home, he was less nervous and experiencing far fewer agitated declines than before.
He had round-the-clock care, and was spending his days in comfort, in no small part due to Vihaan’s insistence on creating a sanctuary for her grandfather. He’d never asked for permission, afraid of his help being rejected, always warily staring at Vera when he made any decision regarding Nanu’s healthcare or living accommodations.
Maybe a few weeks ago, her anger would have shrouded her ability to see his goodness. She couldn’t deny it anymore though. For all his claims of being selfish and terrible, Vihaan had gone out of his way to care for her grandfather in a way she knew she could’ve never achieved on her own. Sure, he was domineering and unbearably cocky. But he was also patient, determined, and protective of the people he loved. Like Nanu. Like her.
Maybe that’s why she’d not rushed to Nanu’s aid. Because at the end of the day, she’d begun to trust Vihaan once more with the most vulnerable parts of her. She’d never have been able to watch Vihaan care for Nanu otherwise, without interfering.
Deep in her thoughts, she did not hear the rustle of grass behind her. She sucked in a surprised breath when a thick blanket covered her, a firm chest pressing into her back as she was engulfed in softness and warmth.
She twisted her neck to glance behind and sure enough, it was Vihaan, looking at her like he was seeing her after an eon of missing her face. Heat prickled up her neck and her gaze dropped to his arms. A moment later, almost reluctantly, his hold loosened.
He cleared his throat, stepping to stand beside her. “What are you doing out here?”
“Thinking.”
“About?”
Lips twisted to the side, she hugged the blanket to herself. “Do you remember that time in seventh grade, the annual school event? Our class was preparing for the final dance show and you tripped me during practice. I couldn’t perform because of you.”
Like a fish gasping for air, his mouth opened and closed before he wheezed out a desperate curse. “Fuck, you’rereallydoing a deep dive to look for reasons to hate me, aren’t you?”
Vera barely held back her confusion.
“We were twelve,” he exasperatedly continued, not having noticed her bemusement. “If you must know, I was being an idiot. I wanted to dance with you, and I didn’t know how to make that happen so I was trying to trip your partner.”
Vihaan grumbled a bit more under his breath, seemingly discomfited with the idea of going down memory lane with her.
“What about when you broke my cycle?” she asked.
“Nine-year-old boys can be rowdy little shitheads, Princess,” he sighed, as if resigned to Vera digging up all the things he’d done wrong. “I was no different. It wasn’t intentional, if you care to believe me.”