Chapter 12

The golden morning light seeped through the windows of the Mysore villa, casting a warm glow that felt out of place against the quiet turmoil brewing in Vikram's heart. He sat near the window, hands clenched on the arms of his wheelchair, staring at the world outside—a world he hadn’t fully engaged with since the accident. But today, they were venturing out, at Tara’s insistence, to explore the local market.

He wasn’t sure what unnerved him more: the idea of being out, vulnerable, or the fact that Tara’s presence seemed to stir something in him—a softening, a sense of warmth he didn’t want.

Downstairs, a familiar argument between Nisha and Aditya broke the morning silence.

"Aditya, can you not be impossible for just one day?" Nisha huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

"Me? Impossible? I’m just pointing out the obvious, Miss Holier-than-Thou," he retorted, leaning casually against the wall, a smirk playing on his lips.

Nisha scoffed, rolling her eyes. "If pointing out the obvious is your job, maybe you should apply somewhere more useful."

Before Nisha could continue, Tara walked in, chuckling softly. “Are you two done with your daily sparring match, or should we leave you to settle it?”

Aditya shot her a look of mock outrage, “Tara, tell your friend to chill. I’m only stating facts!”

But before Tara could respond, she caught sight of Vikram by the door, waiting in his wheelchair, observing the scene with a faintly amused smile that he quickly hid. Their eyes met briefly, and he quickly looked away, his face hardening as if reminding himself to keep his distance.

Elsewhere, Avni and Gautam had carved out a moment alone in the garden.

"Do you think they’re finally warming up to each other?" Avni asked, watching Tara and Vikram from a distance. Gautam smiled, reaching over to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Maybe," he murmured, glancing at her with a soft smile. "Though I think there’s someone else warming up to each other here."

Avni blushed, nudging him playfully. "You’re impossible.”

Gautam chuckled, pulling her close. "Impossible only if you don’t stay with me.".

In the kitchen, Swara was deep in conversation with Veer.

“Veer, have you noticed Vikram lately?” Swara asked, her voice laced with concern. “Tara seems to be bringing something back in him, a light we haven’t seen in so long. But I worry…”

Veer nodded, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It’ll take time, Swara. We can’t expect everything to change overnight. But Vikram’s still Vikram. He’s stronger than we give him credit for."

The bustling market enveloped them in vibrant colors and tantalizing aromas, but Vikram felt a simmering discomfort. Tara was beside him, navigating his wheelchair carefully over cobblestones and uneven paths. Her excitement was contagious; she lingered at a bangle stall, trying on a delicate pair and holding them up with a smile.

“Look, Vikram!” she said, eyes bright, a sparkle of joy in them. But the sight twisted something inside him.

His wife had worn bangles too. He could almost hear the faint tinkling of her laughter as they strolled through a market together years ago. Vikram clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. What am I doing here? he thought, fighting an overwhelming sense of guilt. How can I even stand here with her and... and feel this?

Tara’s voice pulled him back. “Do you want to try this local sweet, Vikram?” She extended a small bite toward him, her smile soft and hopeful. But Vikram’s gaze turned steely.

“I don’t need you to play tour guide, Tara,” he muttered, his voice edged with frustration.

She blinked, momentarily taken aback but quickly masking her disappointment. “I’m sorry... I just thought—”

“Don’t think,” he interrupted, his tone cold. “Just… let me be.” He looked away, his heart a knot of emotions he couldn’t unravel.

Later, they found themselves at a secluded sunset spot overlooking a serene lake, the evening sky painted in shades of orange and pink. Tara wheeled him to a quiet corner, leaning against the railing as she took in the view with a gentle smile. But Vikram couldn’t enjoy the beauty before him—his heart felt weighed down, suffocated by the memories he’d been fighting all day.

“Thank you for today,” Tara said quietly, breaking the silence. “For coming out with me.”

Her words struck a nerve, and he clenched his fists, his voice coming out strained. “Don’t thank me. I… I didn’t do this for you.”

A flicker of hurt crossed her face, but she simply nodded, her gaze lowering. “I know. But still… thank you.”

Something snapped within him, an unspoken frustration boiling over. “Why are you doing this, Tara?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with bitterness. “Why do you keep showing up? Always trying to help… always making me feel…”

She met his gaze, confusion mingling with sadness in her eyes. “Vikram, I’m not trying to make you feel anything. I just want to see you happy.”

Her gentle words only stoked the fire of his frustration. He wheeled back slightly, putting distance between them, his voice cold and unyielding. “You don’t understand. I don’t need your sympathy or your kindness.”

She took a step back, hurt flickering across her face. “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, Vikram…”

“Then stay away,” he interrupted harshly, the words escaping before he could stop them. “If you really want to help, Tara… stay away from me.”

He saw the pain in her eyes, the way her hand trembled slightly as she looked down, collecting herself. She whispered, barely audible, “Alright, if that’s what you want.”

Watching her step away, Vikram felt an inexplicable pang, his own words ringing hollow in the growing darkness around them. What am I doing? he thought, as her footsteps faded, leaving him alone against the sunset—a broken man grappling with memories and regrets, torn between his loyalty to the past and an unexpected, unbidden feeling that Tara seemed to ignite.

As he sat there, he couldn’t shake the echo of her voice, the warmth that had filled his heart in her presence—a warmth he was unwilling to accept.