Grumpy

I never expected myself to be back at home like this. Yet here I am, surrounded by my family. It feels so good… so safe. And still, somewhere deep inside, it suffocates me—not because they don’t love me, but because they still see me as their little one, fragile and in need of constant protection. They’re terrified of losing me again… after that incident.

No, Vanya, don’t go there, I warn myself, shaking the thought away as the warm water cascades down my body under the shower.

After finishing, I slip into my lingerie, pull on a pair of shorts and a top, then step out, towel in hand, drying my damp hair.

To my surprise, I find my mother sitting quietly on my bed, holding something in her lap. She looks like she’s been waiting.

Mom? What’s that?” I ask, curiosity lacing my voice.

She turns, her eyes soft, and replies with a gentle smile, “Oh… this is the dress I bought for you.”

“A dress? Out of nowhere?” I sit beside her, narrowing my eyes playfully. “What’s the occasion?”

Instead of answering, she reaches for my towel and begins drying my hair with slow, loving strokes. I tilt my head and press, “Mumma, say na…” Then, suddenly, it clicks. My eyes widen. “Wait—don’t tell me… I forgot your wedding anniversary!”

She doesn’t reply, only smiles knowingly.

Shit!” I groan, smacking my forehead. “I’m so sorry, Mumma! I should’ve been the first to wish you and Dad. But because of—” my voice trembles as the memory slips in, “—because of him… if I hadn’t been kidnapped by him , I would have been first to wish you like always

Tears sting my eyes as I hug her tightly from the side. “Please forgive me, Mom. I didn’t mean to forget…”

Her hand immediately caresses my hair, her voice steady yet warm. “Shhh… my princess, it’s alright. You don’t need to apologize. None of it was your fault.”

I pull back slightly to look at her face. She brushes a damp strand of hair from my cheek, smiling through her own glistening eyes.

You know,” she says softly, “all your father and I want is to see you happy. This dress—” she holds it up, the fabric unfolding gracefully, “—isn’t for an occasion. It’s because I want you to feel beautiful again, to see yourself the way we see you… strong, radiant, unbroken.”

My throat tightens as I whisper, “Mumma…” and hug her again, tighter this time, unwilling to let go.

I sniffled and tried to lighten the mood. “You know what, Mumma? Maybe I should sue Dad for kidnapping you on your anniversary. That way at least I’ll have an excuse for forgetting.”

She gasped dramatically and gave my hand a light slap. “Aye, naughty girl! How dare you say such a thing about your father?”

I chuckled, wiping her tears with my thumb. “Well, technically, if he hadn’t whisked you away, I would’ve been the first to wish you. It’s clearly his fault.

She shook her head, laughing softly. “Haan haan, blame your poor father. Do you think he’d survive a single day without me? Forget kidnapping—I was the one who kidnapped his heart long ago.”

Ewww, Mumma!” I groaned, covering my ears. “Too much information. Spare me the romantic details, please!”

She laughed at my horrified face and tugged me into her arms again. “My silly princess,” she murmured, kissing the top of my head.

“I’m really happy, my baby… that you’re with us now. Forever,” Mumma whispered, her hand gently caressing my face.

Her words made me freeze. Forever?

“Wait—what did you just say?” I pulled back, searching her eyes. “No, Mom. I don’t want to stay here. I’ll leave after the celebration.” I pushed myself up from the bed, my chest tightening.

Her smile faltered, but her voice remained firm. “No, you are not. Not this time.” She rose gracefully, smoothing her saree, then added with a forced lightness, “We have a party at eight. Be ready, okay?”

“Mom!” I snapped, glaring at her. “You can’t just decide my life like this. Fine—if you won’t listen, I’ll talk to Dad myself.”She paused at the door, then turned her head slightly, her tone gentle but edged with unshakable resolve. “Fine, baby… talk to him if you must. Do whatever you want. But remember this—” her gaze softened, glistening with both love and fear—“you are not allowed to leave me again. Get that fixed in your heart.”

And with that, she stepped out of my room, leaving me staring after her, torn between anger and guilt.

Ugggh!” I groaned, stomping my foot in frustration, when my phone buzzed with a call from my assistant.

I snatched it up. “What now?”

Her hesitant voice trickled through the line. “Ma’am… umm, your brother… he asked us to pack up your belongings from the cabin. He also informed us that you won’t be coming back… and that maybe you’ll be joining another hospital there.”

Her words only fueled the fire in my chest.

“What the fuck?” I exploded. “Don’t you dare follow his orders! Not a single thing in my cabin should be touched, do you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am…” she whispered quickly.

I didn’t wait for more. I cut the call and hurled the phone onto the bed with a sharp thud, my anger boiling over.

I quickly slipped into a crisp white shirt and blue denim, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door.

“Beta, have your breakfast first, then go wherever you want,” my mother called after me.

“No, Mom. I’ll eat something outside. See you tonight,” I replied without stopping, already making my way to the car.

Within minutes, I was driving straight to the office, my anger simmering with every passing signal.

After parking, I strode inside and went straight to the reception desk. “Excuse me, may I know where Kartik sir is?”

The receptionist gave me a polite but professional smile. “Sorry, ma’am… but do you have an appointment?”

I arched a brow. “Really? You think family needs appointments?”

She blinked, unfazed. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t recall ever meeting you. If you know him personally, please give him a call.”

Her tone made me narrow my eyes at her, but I pulled out my phone anyway. I dialed Kartik—no answer. My jaw clenched as I immediately rang up his assistant instead.

Avi, where’s your sir?” I asked sharply.

“Umm… ma’am, he’s in a meeting,” Avi replied cautiously.

Oh, I see,” I muttered, my tone cool. “Then do me a favor—inform your receptionist who I am. I need to meet your sir.

I handed my phone over to her, watching the color drain from her face as she listened. Her eyes went wide.

“Umm… s-sorry, ma’am. I didn’t know you’re his sister,” she stammered, hastily standing. “This way, please. His cabin is right there.”

Better,” I said with a tight smile, following her until I stood right outside his cabin door.

As I neared the cabin, Avi moved quickly to intercept me. “Ma’am, please, sir is in a meeting—”

One look from me was enough. My glare could have cut glass. Avi froze, swallowed, and stepped aside. Without another word, I pushed the door open and marched straight inside.

The moment my brother’s eyes landed on me, his glare screamed a warning to stop. But being me, I didn’t even slow down. I stormed right up to his desk, ignoring the startled client sitting across from him.

“Bhai, I need to talk,” I declared, folding my arms firmly across my chest.

His jaw tightened. “Not now. Just wait outside.” His voice was low, but his death glares made the message crystal clear.

I raised a brow, unmoved. “No. I want to talk to you right now.” My tone dripped with defiance, and I could see his anger rising.

He flicked his gaze from the clients back to me, clearly torn between exploding and maintaining his image. The tension stretched.

I exhaled sharply, throwing my hands up. “Fine! Go to hell then. I’ll talk to Dad myself… idiot!”

Before he could respond, I spun on my heel, stomped out, and slammed the door behind me, the sound echoing through the corridor

I stormed up to the next floor, following Avi’s hesitant directions, my heels clicking furiously against the marble. By the time I reached Dad’s office door, my hand was already on the knob, ready to twist it open—

And then, suddenly, another hand engulfed mine. Warm. Firm. Familiar.

I didn’t even need to look up. I knew who it was.

Slowly, I turned my head, my eyes narrowing into an icy glare. “Move your hand, Vishnu.”

Instead of obeying, he pressed the door shut again and smoothly stepped between me and the entrance, blocking the way with his tall frame.

Your dad’s in a very important meeting,” he said calmly, almost smug. “You can talk to him afterwards.”

My jaw clenched. “No, Vishnu. I want to talk to him right now. So unless you want me to actually murder you in front of this fancy door, move aside.”

He chuckled low in his throat, unbothered. “Murder me? Here? Go ahead. Try as much as you want, princess. But you’re not going in until the meeting’s over.”

“Ugh, you idiot!” I shoved at his chest, glaring harder. “The day Dad realizes how useless you are and throws you out, I swear I’ll kill you myself and throw a party after!”

That infuriating smirk of his only deepened. “Wow. Sweet words from Daddy’s favorite daughter. Keep going—you might actually hurt my feelings.”

Don’t tempt me. I’ll scratch that smug grin right off your face.” I raised a finger at him threateningly.

He leaned in slightly, his voice teasing. “Careful, princess. You’ll break your perfectly manicured nails before you break me.”

“Arrrghhh, I hate you!” I hissed, trying to push past him again, but he smoothly sidestepped, still blocking my way like a wall.

And just as our bantering reached its peak, the office door opened from inside.

Dad stepped out with his clients, looking between the two of us—me, fuming with my arms crossed, and Vishnu, still smirking like the devil who enjoyed fueling my rage.

For a moment, silence. Then Dad sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“God help me,” he muttered dryly, “I have two grown children who still fight like they’re in kindergarten.”

Vishnu smirked wider. “Correction, sir—I’m winning.”

“Shut up, idiot!” I snapped instantly.

Dad shook his head, offering a polite smile to his clients. “Gentlemen, as you can see… peace is a luxury in this house.”

Dad’s lips curved into a professional smile as he gestured to the corridor. “Gentlemen, thank you for your time. My secretary will finalize the paperwork. I’ll join you shortly.”

The clients nodded politely, though I caught the amused glint in one of their eyes as they passed me. I burned with embarrassment, while Vishnu—of course—looked as smug as ever.

The moment the door shut behind them, Dad’s smile vanished. His sharp eyes swept between the two of us.

Inside,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I exchanged a glare with Vishnu, then stepped in first, my arms crossed tight. He followed, still grinning like a fool.

Dad closed the door himself and turned, his voice low but edged with steel. “I have tolerated your childish bickering long enough. This isn’t a playground—it’s my office.” His gaze pinned me first. “Vanya, storming in here like this? You know better.”

My jaw tightened. “Dad, I—” . And you.” He cut me off, turning to Vishnu. “You think this is funny? Blocking her, provoking her, like this is some schoolyard squabble?”

For once, Vishnu dropped the smirk, though his silence was stubborn.

Dad’s tone softened only slightly, but the weight in his words lingered. “Both of you need to understand—I cannot afford this drama in front of my clients, and I will not allow this family to fall into chaos again. Not after everything.”

The unspoken weight of that incident hung heavy in the room, silencing both of us

Dad’s words lingered in the silence, heavy and suffocating. I clenched my fists, biting my tongue until the weight of it became unbearable.

Finally, I snapped. “Fine! Since we’re talking about chaos, let’s talk about what Kartik did.” Dad’s gaze cut to me, sharp as a blade. “What about Kartik?”

“He ordered my things to be packed from my cabin at the hospital,” I blurted, my voice trembling with anger. “He told my staff I wasn’t coming back. That I’d be joining another hospital here! Without even asking me!”

Dad’s eyes narrowed, unreadable, his hands folding behind his back. “And is that not true?”

I staggered back, stunned. “Excuse me? Of course it’s not true! That’s my career, my decision, not his, not yours!”

His expression remained stern, but his voice dropped lower, calmer, which only made it sting more. “Vanya, your brother acted because we can’t risk you running away again. Not after what happened.”

I felt my chest tighten, the words ripping out of me before I could stop them. “So what now? You’re all just going to lock me here like a prisoner? Strip me of everything I’ve built because you’re afraid?”

Vishnu shifted uneasily beside me, as if sensing the storm brewing, but Dad’s gaze never left mine.

You call it fear,” he said, his tone cold, final. “I call it protecting my daughter. And I will not apologize for that.”

I shook my head, tears threatening to spill. “Protecting me or controlling me, Dad? Because right now, it feels exactly the same.”

The silence that followed crackled like a storm about to break

Dad didn’t move. He didn’t shout. He didn’t slam his hand on the desk like I half-expected.

Instead, he simply stood there, spine straight, gaze locked on mine, his presence filling the room like a shadow.

“You think this is control?” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “Vanya, if I wanted control, you wouldn’t even have the freedom to argue with me right now.”

The words struck harder than any raised voice could have. He stepped closer, his expression unreadable but his eyes burning into me. “This family nearly lost you once. Do you have any idea what that did to me? To your mother? To your brother?” His voice softened only slightly. “You may call it suffocating. I call it survival

I swallowed hard, unable to look away. My anger was still there, but it wavered under the weight of his words.

Dad tilted his head, his tone like steel wrapped in silk. “You are free to be angry. You are free to hate me for the choices I make. But until I am certain you are safe… don’t test me, Vanya.”

The silence in the room was deafening. Even Vishnu, usually quick with a mocking remark, stayed quiet, shifting his weight like the air was too heavy to breathe.

I clenched my fists, struggling to form words, my throat tight with both defiance and guilt.

I straightened my shoulders, forcing my chin up even though every nerve in me wanted to shrink under his gaze.

“You can glare at me all you want, Dad,” I said, my voice firm, laced with fire. “You can stand there like some king in his court, deciding who lives where and who does what—but I am not a pawn on your chessboard.”

I took a sharp breath. “You say you’re protecting me? Then protect me by letting me fight my own battles. Protect me by trusting me with my own life. Because if you keep trying to cage me like this, Dad, I swear…” My voice dropped into a growl. “…I’ll break free, no matter what it costs.”. The room went deathly still.

Vishnu shifted uncomfortably, glancing between us like he wasn’t sure if he was watching a family drama or a war brewing.

Dad finally spoke, voice as calm as ever, but heavy with warning. “Be very careful with promises like that, Vanya. Once spoken, they can’t be taken back.”

I lifted my chin higher. “Then let it stay. I meant every word.”

The tension in the air was a living thing, coiling tighter with each heartbeat.

The silence felt unbearable, like the walls themselves were pressing in. My heart pounded, but I refused to let him see me break.

“Fine,” I said, my voice tight, fiery, but quivering just beneath the surface. “If this is how it’s going to be, then I don’t want to hear another word about love or protection. Because love doesn’t feel like chains, Dad. It feels like trust.”

My throat burned, but I refused to cry in front of him. With a sharp exhale, I turned on my heel, yanked the door open, and stormed out—my pulse echoing in my ears, my hands shaking even as I clenched them into fists.

By the time I reached my car, my eyes blurred with tears I couldn’t hold back anymore. The moment I shut the door, I broke—burying my face into my hands, sobbing out all the words I couldn’t say without shattering.

I grabbed my phone and dialed the only person I could breathe with.

Hello? Rhea…” My voice cracked. “I need you. Please. Say no more. Where do you want me to pick you?”

The rest of the day blurred into something softer. With Rhea, I laughed again—over silly food choices, shopping bags I didn’t even need, ice cream that melted too fast in the sun. I told her everything, my anger, my pain, my helplessness, and she listened without judgment. By the time we sat at our favorite café, sipping coffee and trading stories, it almost felt like the weight was gone.

For hours, I let myself forget. Almost. It was only when I glanced at the darkened screen of my phone, finally switching it back on, that reality crashed back. The time blinked across the display: 7:45 PM.

My stomach dropped. The party. “Oh shit,” I whispered, jolting upright.

Rhea frowned. “What? What happened?”

“I forgot—Dad and Mom’s anniversary party. It starts at eight.”

I hurriedly hugged her goodbye, promising to call later, and ran for my car. My chest tightened as I drove back home, the weight of everything I’d pushed aside all day pressing down again, heavier with every passing minute.