“You don’t need to apologise. I overreacted.”
His shoulders relaxed visibly when she said that, and she felt worse.
“I know how hard you work,” Vihaan acknowledged, lifting her hand up to drop a kiss on her knuckles. “I didn’t mean to belittle your efforts when I asked you to leave the library.”
She squeezed the hand he still held. “I didn’t mean to imply that you’re spoiled.”
“I am.”
“You’re more than that.” She wrapped her arms about his waist and pressed her lips into his shoulder, mumbling, “I’m sorry.”
“No harm done,” Vihaan chuckled, kissing her cheek. “Maybe this is better.”
Frowning, she leaned back, staring up at his handsome face. “Better?”
Vihaan nodded, helping her sit down before plunking himself next to her. “I got a chance to figure out a good apology and practise what I wanted to say.”
Before she could ask what that was, he reached into the basket he’d brought with him, pulling out a rectangular box wrapped in a shiny silver wrap. Bashfully, he extended the gift to her.
“It’s not my birthday,” Vera quietly said, making no attempt to accept his offer.
“I know that. I wanted to give you something anyway.”
“I don’t have a gift for you.”
He groaned in exasperation. “Princess, I’m begging you right now. Please take it before you make me cry.”
The idea that he’d burst into tears was so absurd, it made her giggle. Finally, she plucked the gift from his hand, weighing it gently. She turned it around, wondering what it could be.
Vera tore into the packaging as carefully as possible, catching a glimpse of a blood-red box underneath. Her snail speed caused Vihaan to sigh restlessly. She hazarded a glance at him, confused why he looked so nervous. She would love anything he gave her. The thought mattered more than the gift itself.
Or so she believed, until she propped the lid of the box open and gasped.
“Th. . . this?” With trembling fingers, she lifted the bangle that lay within the velvet case. The waning sunlight highlighted the designs on its raised edges, making the gold shine orange. She’d remembered pointing it out through the display glass outside one of the oldest jewellery stores in town. It looked identical to the one her grandmother had left for her, that Nanaji had misplaced. She’d made an offhand comment to Vihaan many months ago about how nice it would be to afford it someday.
“I know it doesn’t replace the one your nani had,” Vihaan said, drawing his finger from her temple downwards to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I wanted you to have this anyway. From me.”
It took effort for Vera to put the thick bracelet back into its case and snap the lid shut. “I can’t take this. It’s too much.”
Vihaan’s smile ebbed, his expression turning mulish. “You can thank me too much then. But this is yours.”
“But. . .”
“I paid for it with my own money,” he informed her, his revelation robbing her of her words. “I didn’t take money from my dad. Are you going to reject it even then?”
“You’ve been working?”
He nodded, nose scrunching in sweet embarrassment.
After all the worry about their differences, and whether they could change enough to be together as a couple, it was becoming clear that Vihaan was ahead of her in terms of growth.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Is that why you’ve been busier than usual? I thought your parents were keeping you occupied.”
Vihaan scratched the top of his thick brow sheepishly. “I had to lie. I wanted to surprise you. As it turns out, I’m not half bad at trading. Between doing extra assignments for the other rich kids and investing my money, I turned a tidy profit.”
He said it so nonchalantly, one would think it didn’t matter. But it did to Vera. He’d put in time and effort to buy her this gift. More than anything, it was clear proof of his understanding of what mattered to her. Hope bloomed in her heart; her previous worries swept away by a wave of indescribable happiness.
“You went through all that for me?” she asked, her voice on the verge of cracking.