Chapter 9

"He'll be here in a minute," Shanaya said in an instant, earning a head tilt and a long gaze from her granny before the old woman settled on the seat as the head of the family.

Her brother entered moments later, displaying a freshly shaved jaw and carried out the walk of shame with his head low before sitting down.

"Now that everyone's here," Suhala began with a small but genuine smile, "I'd like to introduce everyone to Raunak Mehta."

So the trouble's named Raunak this time, Shanaya thought as she examined his face carefully. He smiled at her grandmother's words but the moment his gaze met Shanaya's he blushed and looked away. The latter continued to glare.

"Ms Chahal is here with her with daughter too," She added with a forced smile. "Mithila, right?"

"Mridula, Dadi." The girl corrected politely and lowered her head, smiling.

"Yes, yes."

Shanaya resisted the urge to roll her eyes and sighed instead, failing to maintain a fake smile. Times as such reminded her of why she preferred staying alone. While her eyes didn't see, she knew Aruna was glaring daggers into her. She never understood why the woman hated her but then again idiots don't need a reason.

Suhala, Shanaya's grandmother's next words were directed at Kabir. "I was hoping to see Noor today. Where is she, Kabir beta?"

Shanaya stilled at the mention of Kabir's wife and her eyes quickly darted to Ahail who held his head low, pretending to not have heard. She waited for a reaction while silently hoping nothing would happen.

"She wanted to be here, Dadi. But then something urgent came up," Kabir said and added a nervous chuckle. His eyes moved to her and she nodded at him.

Neither did Ahail react not did not respond. Thankfully.

They dined, as servants came in to serve, dish after dish. A few fake laughs were passed over really bad jokes that even Kabir did not seem to like. Mridula tried to be the sweet girl, keeping mostly to herself except smiling cheekily at Ahail after regular intervals to which he was absolutely oblivious.

Unsurprising to anyone, Shanaya was the first to get up. Kabir followed behind her immediately.

He began with a hushed whisper, "Shan, there's something-"

"Kabir!" Suhala's interruption startled the pair of friends. "Do you mind if I take my granddaughter away for a second?"

"Not at all," He said to the old woman, hesitation evident in his voice. Before he left, he widened his eyes at Shanaya, a way of warning her for what's to come.

"My little child," Suhala began in her throaty voice. "Where were you last night?"

Before Shanaya could answer, she cut her off, "I've heard something and I hoped it wasn't true but my poor child, it is." Her old cloudy eyes stuck to Shanaya face, unflinching. Shanaya feared they had the ability to sense lies. She could feel her palms growing sweaty.

She gaped at her and asked in a confused voice, "Well, Dadi, what do you mean?"

"The Kapoor's son, Dhruv...?" She tilted her head. "He has returned apparently. A week ago if words are to be trusted and it seems he has no plans to return. He's taken over his father's business. Allowed him to retire and rest."

That's something new, Shanaya thought to herself. He's not going back. Damn it. That's why he's here. To take over his responsibility.

Why did you think he returned then? For you? A voice deep inside her mind mocked her.

Shanaya ignored it and remained quiet, afraid that if she'd say anything, it'd push her in the deep well of trouble.

Suhala raised her eyes sharply that had been lowered to the polished floor and continued, "I need the truth from you. Were you with him last night?"

"Why would you accuse me of something like that?"

Shanaya's intention was to sound normal, unaffected by her grandma's words, but instead her voice came out dead with no emotion in it. She was genuinely offended at her words. It was not what she had expected from the old woman.

Suhala flinched, instinctively leaning back. Her cloudy eyes, however, inspected Shanaya's face carefully. When the latter refused to blink, the old woman sighed, lowering her head to adjust the folds in the front of her bright saree.

"I'm sorry, my child." She raised her head and cupped Shanaya's cheek with her rough, dry palm. "If I didn't know better, I would've preferred you were with him instead of working late nights in that place you call your office. I can barely tolerate Aruna anymore. I wished you spent more time here with us."

"Why? So, you can set me up with some rich, stupid guy at the first opportunity and marry me off?"

"You're growing old," Suhala commented, taking her hand away from her face.

"Are you talking about me or yourself?" Shanaya snickered, hovering her gaze over her grandma's greyed hair.

"I was married when I was eighteen."

"Dadi, this is very reason why I don't like being here," Shanaya said with a solemn tone. "I'll get married when I want to. And don't worry you won't die before you see your great-grandchildren." She rolled her eyes, unable to resist.

Suhala closed her eyes for a moment and took in a deep breath. "Life is uncertain," She said, opening her eyes. There was something in her voice that made Shanaya feel sorry. She knew just what the old woman was thinking.

Outliving your children was in Suhala's vision a curse. She had said so in moments of rare weakness. The whole tragedy that struck their family was unexpected, just like every other tragedy but Shanaya knew if there was anyone who'd coped well, it was Suhala.

Suhala sniffed and that was when Shanaya knew it was yet another moment of weakness. She began in her throaty voice, her grey eyebrows set firmly, "It does not matter who you're with. As long as that person isn't Dhruv Kapoor. I want to see you happy, my child. With your own little family. You deserve it. But please, for your own sake, stay as far away from that family as possible. You don't want to get your heart wounded again. The last time you did, it took years to heal."

Shanaya only nodded and made her way quietly upstairs to her room. Only when the door's lock clicked behind her did she let the tears brimming in her eyes flow.

If only she could tell her grandmother that the wound still had not healed...