Chapter 26

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm golden hue over the room. The soft hum of activity outside was a reminder of the quiet normalcy that had started to return to Vikram’s life. As he wheeled himself into the living room, he could feel the stiffness in his legs, a stubborn reminder of how far he still had to go. Yet, as his hands pushed against the wheels of his chair, there was a quiet satisfaction in the fact that each movement was less strained than it had been just a few months ago.

Vikram paused for a moment, looking out the window. The view from his family’s home was expansive, a lush garden with vibrant flowers swaying gently in the breeze. It was a stark contrast to the turmoil he had felt in the past—the emotional chaos, the pain, the isolation. Now, however, there was a sense of calm, of peace.

He looked down at the watch on his wrist. Tara’s gift. Tara’s father’s watch. It had become more than just a physical object to him; it was a symbol of all that Tara had given him and all that he was still learning to accept. As he thought about the progress he had made, and the person he was becoming, his mind inevitably drifted to her.

Tara.

Even now, as the days went on, it was hard to explain what she meant to him. But there was no denying that she was becoming more important with each passing day. Her unwavering presence, her strength, her kindness—it all felt like a constant in his life. But as much as he was growing, he knew that he wasn’t fully ready to face what it all meant. His feelings were still raw, still tender, and he wasn’t sure if he was prepared to voice them.

The sound of footsteps broke his thoughts, and he turned to see Vikram’s sister, Avni, walking into the room. She had always been a calming presence for him, her support unspoken but ever-present. Despite their differing personalities—she, with her bubbly demeanor, and him, with his reserved nature—there was an unbreakable bond between them.

“How’s the patient today?” Avni teased with a grin, crossing the room to give him a quick hug. She was in her early thirties, confident and capable, and always ready with a joke or a smile to lighten the mood. “You’re looking better,” she said, eyeing his posture as he sat in the wheelchair. “That back is straight. You’ve been working hard, haven’t you?”

Vikram offered her a small smile. “Trying to,” he replied, the familiar warmth between them filling the space. “It’s not easy, though.”

Avni sat down next to him, her eyes softening. “I know,” she said, her tone quieter now. “But you’ve come so far. I’m proud of you, Vikram. More than you know.”

He swallowed, the lump in his throat growing, and nodded. He had heard this sentiment from her so many times, but somehow, hearing it now, after everything he had been through, made it hit differently.

Before he could respond, the doorbell rang, followed by the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Aditya’s voice echoed through the house, cheerful and loud as always.

“I hope you’re not still feeling sorry for yourself, Vikram!” Aditya called out from the doorway. He was tall, with an easygoing, playful grin that could light up a room. His presence was always a welcome relief, bringing humor and lightness wherever he went. Aditya had been Vikram’s best friend for years—through thick and thin. And though they both had different ways of dealing with life, Aditya’s support had never wavered.

Vikram chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re late, as usual,” he teased back.

Aditya walked over to him and slapped him on the back, his hand lingering longer than necessary. “I was just getting to the good part of a movie, so forgive me if I didn’t rush here the moment you called,” he said, settling down in the chair next to him. “But don’t worry, I brought food, so that should make up for it.”

Avni rolled her eyes but smiled. “You’re impossible, Aditya.”

“Impossible? I’m just the guy who makes everything more fun around here,” he said with a wink, then turned to Vikram. “How are you really doing, though? I saw you were making progress in your therapy, but how’s it feeling today?”

Vikram met his gaze, the weight of Aditya’s question hanging in the air. He wasn’t sure what to say. The truth was, he was doing better. But emotionally, he was still wrestling with feelings he wasn’t sure how to deal with. There were moments when he felt like he was finally healing, and then there were others when it felt like the past was pulling him backward.

“It’s getting there,” Vikram said finally. “The therapy’s hard, but it’s working. Slowly but surely.”

Aditya nodded, his expression serious now. “I know it’s not easy, man. But you’re stronger than you think. And you’ve got a whole lot of people behind you, rooting for you.”

Vikram met his best friend’s gaze, grateful for the unwavering support, though he still felt a twinge of guilt for not being the person he wanted to be. For not being whole yet, not for Tara, not for anyone.

“Speaking of support,” Avni interjected, her tone more thoughtful now, “how’s Tara? I know she’s been with you through all this...”

Vikram paused, his mind immediately going to her. Tara’s face appeared in his thoughts—her warm smile, her soft eyes, the way she had been there for him, even when he hadn’t wanted anyone near him.

“She’s... been amazing,” Vikram said quietly. “I don’t know how she does it. She’s patient with me when I can’t even be patient with myself.”

Aditya raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto his face. “Hmm, sounds like someone’s developing a soft spot.”

Vikram shot him a look, but his heart gave a traitorous flutter at the thought of Tara. He wasn’t ready to say it out loud, not yet, but the truth was undeniable. Tara had become more than just someone who was helping him. She had become someone he couldn’t imagine being without.

Avni, who had been listening closely, smiled knowingly. “It’s okay, Vikram. We can see it. You don’t have to say it yet. But I’m happy for you, really.”

Vikram didn’t respond, unsure of how to put his feelings into words. But he didn’t have to. The support of his family, the understanding from Aditya and Avni, was enough. And with each day, it was becoming clearer—he was on the path to recovery, both physically and emotionally.

As the afternoon wore on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, the easy camaraderie between the three of them filling the room with warmth. But in the quiet moments, when the laughter faded and the chatter softened, Vikram found himself lost in thought once more.

He thought about the road ahead, about how much further he still had to go. And he thought about Tara—her kindness, her strength, her unwavering belief in him.

In the deepest part of his heart, he knew that she was the reason he was moving forward. She was the reason he was beginning to heal.

And even though he wasn’t ready to admit it yet, even though the words still felt too big to say, Vikram couldn’t deny the truth any longer: he was falling in love with her. And no matter how much he tried to push it away, it was becoming impossible to ignore.

But for now, he could only take it one step at a time.