Heartbeats and Boardrooms

eighteen

It had been two weeks since that fateful day, and Vidhi found herself back in the familiar warmth of Kapadia Nivas. The spacious house, with its whitewashed walls and vibrant bougainvillea cascading over the gates, had always been her sanctuary. After the terrifying incident, her parents, Mihir and Shraddha, had insisted she return home. Their concern for her well-being had been palpable, and Vidhi, ever the loving daughter, couldn’t refuse. The decision felt right, and in their protective embrace, she slowly began to feel whole again.

The house had a way of healing her. Every morning, the scent of homemade parathas and masala chai wafted through the air, courtesy of her mother, Shraddha. The laughter and gentle teasing from her father, Mihir, over the breakfast table were the kind of simple joys Vidhi had missed while living on her own. Here, with her parents, the memory of the attack began to fade, like a bad dream that dissipates in the daylight.

"Vidhi, beta, you need to eat more. Look at you, all skin and bones!" Shraddha fussed, placing another paratha on Vidhi’s plate, ignoring her protests.

"Maa, I’m not skin and bones," Vidhi laughed, taking a bite. "But I won’t say no to your cooking."

Mihir, sitting across the table with his morning newspaper, chimed in, "Your mother’s right, Vidhi. We’ve missed having you here. The house feels lively again."

Vidhi smiled, feeling the love in their words. She was grateful to have parents like them, who wrapped her in care whenever she needed it most.

But life hadn’t only been about the comfort of home. Since that day—since Yuvraj had kissed her and offered solace—everything between them had changed. In those two weeks, not a single day passed without him calling to check on her. Every evening, as she sat on the balcony watching the sunset, her phone would ring, and there he’d be, his deep voice reassuring her in ways she hadn’t even realized she needed.

"Vidhi, how was your day?" Yuvraj’s voice always had a way of cutting through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present.

"I’m good, Yuvraj," she’d reply, though it never seemed enough for him.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to come over and see for myself if you’re doing okay," he’d insist, his concern unwavering.

She found it endearing, this newfound attention. Their relationship had shed its old insecurities, transforming into something stronger, something that felt solid beneath her feet. They were officially dating now, and though Yuvraj’s protectiveness could be a bit overwhelming, Vidhi wouldn’t have it any other way. She still found his diligence charming, even when he was impossible to convince that she was doing just fine.

A few days ago, Vidhi had finally gathered the courage to sit her parents down and tell them about Yuvraj. It was a conversation she’d been nervous about, but it needed to happen.

That evening, after dinner, the three of them settled in the living room. Mihir reclined in his favorite armchair, while Shraddha was busy knitting on the sofa. Vidhi sat cross-legged on the floor, the soft glow of the lamps casting a cozy warmth over the room.

"Maa, Papa," Vidhi began, her voice a little hesitant. "There’s something I need to talk to you about."

Shraddha looked up from her knitting, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. "What is it, beta?"

"It’s about Yuvraj," Vidhi continued, her fingers nervously playing with the fringe of the carpet. "You remember him, right? We… we shared a past."