She was competent. He could work with competent.
Competence did not require him to notice her. Did not require him to remember the way she looked. Did not require him to stand at a window at night, replaying a laugh she had very deliberately not given him.
He exhaled, sat on the edge of the bed, and pressed his hands over his face.
‘I actually need therapy. Immediately. And in unreasonable quantities.’
He lay back, staring at the ceiling.
Nothing about that woman was going to be simple.
And the most inconvenient part, the part he was least equipped to deal with, was that some part of him, deeply unreasonable, didn’t entirely want it to be.
Chapter 8
Abhinav woke to sunlight filtering through windows that felt off. Too wide. Too open.
He lay still for a moment.
Yesterday had been proximity. Situation. A long day. A new place. A body responding to stimulus.
Biology. Nothing more.
He rose and left it there. The morning took over. Shower. Shave. Clothes chosen with care. Beige trousers. Charcoal shirt. Not the armour of his usual suits, yet far from ease.
By the time he stepped out for breakfast, he felt centred, controlled, and himself again.
The dining room overlooked the main courtyard. Sunlight poured through the jharokhas, spreading across the floor in warm gold.
Sarita sat with her tea, her posture eased in a way it had not been in weeks. The place had begun to settle her.
Naina was wide awake. “I want to see everything today,” she announced, waving a piece of toast. “City Palace, Hawa Mahal, markets. All of it.”
“You go, beta.” Sarita smiled, touching Naina’s shoulder. “I’ll stay back.”
Meanwhile, Abhinav ate without tasting. His mind had already moved ahead. Find a new buyer. Set expectations. Kishore’s schedule for the next few weeks.
Devendra appeared at the doorway, supervising the morning service for the Anand family.
Abhinav caught his eye and gestured him closer.
“Chauhan ji.” He put his cup down. “Please arrange a car and a guide for my sister.”
“Of course, Hukum.”
Abhinav gave a short nod. “I need to speak with Meera. After breakfast. In your office.”
The room went still.
Only for a fraction of a second. But enough.
Devendra’s face remained composed, though his eyes gave him away. A man already measuring what the next hour might demand.
“Ji, Hukum.” He inclined his head. “I’ll take you there.”
???
The administrative wing lay deeper inside the Haveli, away from the courtyards. The corridors narrowed, built for function. Doors opened into rooms lined with ledgers and files.