“Oh yeah? But it doesn’t look like that. It looks serious. That one-year thing seems completely null and void in this case.”
Vikram’s gaze lingered on the swirling wine in his glass. Then a quiet smile tugged at his lips. “I really like her. That’s for sure. By the way, this wine is really good. Thanks for getting it.”
“Good deflection, but man... marriage looks good on you. It’s doing what I’ve failed to do all these years.”
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” Vikram asked, curious.
“Making you live out of your comfort zone… with a pet rabbit. And just making you fucking normal.”
“Asshole,” Vikram muttered, tossing a small pillow at Suraj. It bounced off his chest and landed next to Bungee, who was happily snuggled near the couch near Vikram’s leg.
“See what I mean?” Suraj shook his head, grinning. “Deny it all you want, but you’ve taken her pet bunny under your roof, and he sits by your legs the whole damn day. You’re not always the cold-hearted Khurana everyone thinks.”
Suraj scooped up the bunny and softly petted him as he spoke. “Enjoy the hospitality while it lasts, Bungee buddy.”
Vikram scoffed and stood up, placing his wine glass on the side table. “I have an early morning tomorrow. Good night, brother.”
“Come on, Bro. Keep me company. It’s been years since we sat like this.”
“Tomorrow, Sunny. I need to get to my wife now. Good night.”
Suraj let out a hoot of laughter as Vikram walked away. “Look at you… Mr.I-Don’t-Do-Feelingscan’t wait to crawl into bed with his wife. Who would’ve thought?”
Vikram flipped him the bird and just smiled as he walked upstairs to his bedroom. Deep down, he knew one thing for sure. He and Suraj… they would be alright. They were Khuranas. And they had found their way back to each other.
40
It should have been an ordinary day, but it was not. Today, Vikram was going to meet his mother. And no amount of time could soften the sharp edges of what this reunion meant.
He sat in his home office, papers spread out in front of him, though he hadn’t read a single word. His thoughts had hijacked his focus long ago. Just then, the doorbell rang. He heard someone opening the door, and something in his chest tightened.
He stood up, adjusting his Henley, his movements stiff as he stepped out of the room. Mahika came down the stairs and stood beside him, slipping her hand into his. She looked into his eyes, and he looked back at her, holding her gaze, savouring the quiet moment between them.
“If you’re not ready, we don’t have to do this now,” she said softly.
Vikram met her eyes. “I’m not ready,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I need to do it anyway.”
She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Then I’m right here.”
Together, they entered the living room where his mother, Devika Khurana, sat waiting. She looked up and rose to her feet as Vikram and Mahika approached. Seeing her now, something hard lodged in his gut. She looked just like the woman he remembered, all poised and graceful, but older now. Her eyesflicked to the photograph of his father on the wall, and Vikram saw the crack in her composure.
He looked away. He didn’t want to read too much into those emotions. She had left. And now she was here, expecting what? Forgiveness was not a gift that could just be handed out. It was a blessing. And trust had to be earned.
To break the tension, he swept his gaze around the room and avoided his mother’s eyes. He felt Mahika’s hand tighten around his arm. He hadn’t even noticed she was holding on to him again.
Damn. He needed something to cut through this silence. The nerves were starting to creep in.
His eyes landed on Suraj, sitting beside their mother, and then on Mohit, who sat near the window with Mahika’s mother, Varsha Jaykar. As if sensing his glance, Varsha looked up. She frowned for a brief moment, and then her face softened. Before anyone could speak, she got up and walked over to him and Mahika with a warm smile.
“How are you, my sweet children?” she asked gently, cupping Mahika’s face in her hands.
“We’re good,” Vikram replied.
He noticed the shift in Mahika. First, she went still, then her fingers trembled slightly as she reached up and held her mother’s wrist. Her expression held a mix of disbelief and hope, like she could not quite trust that this moment was real. Like she could not believe her mother truly cared to know how she was.
“Mom... I’m good. Are you okay?” Mahika asked, her voice tight with emotion.
“I am more than okay,” Varsha replied, her smile calm and unguarded. “Thanks to this amazing son-in-law of mine.”