81. Papa-Amma

Do you guys have any couple names for our cuties?

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Divya sat in her wheelchair, her fingers trembling slightly as she stared at the picture of Dadi on her phone.

Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears, her heart aching with the weight of loss. The room was silent except for the faint sound of her breathing.

Daksh, who had been watching her from the bed, noticed the sadness in her eyes. He sighed, walking toward her.

“Honeypie,” he called gently.

She didn’t respond, still lost in the image on her screen.

Daksh crouched down beside her, resting a hand on her knee. “We should sleep.”

Divya blinked, looking up at him. There was no resistance, just silent acceptance as she nodded.

Daksh exhaled, standing up. Without another word, he scooped her into his arms, lifting her effortlessly.

She gasped slightly but didn’t protest, simply resting her head against his chest as he carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently before settling beside her.

As soon as he pulled the blanket over them, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

Divya clutched his shirt, her voice barely above a whisper. “Dadi was the best…”

Daksh said nothing, just caressed her hair, waiting for her to continue.

“She was everything my own grandmother wasn’t,” she murmured. “She cared… she loved me like her own. She never made me feel unwanted. I miss her so much.”

Daksh nodded, his fingers threading through her hair in soothing strokes. “I miss her too,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual. “But she wouldn’t want us to grieve like this.”

Divya closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against his chest. “I know.”

Daksh tightened his hold on her, rubbing slow circles on her back.

She let out a deep breath, allowing herself to relax against him.

Slowly, she cuddled closer, her body molding into his warmth.

Daksh pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Sleep, Honeypie.”

And with him holding her, she finally let herself drift into sleep.

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Amrita woke up feeling hungry. It was already evening, and she hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday. Her stomach grumbled in protest as she blinked away the sleep from her eyes.

Carefully, she tried to free herself from Aaryansh’s hold without waking him up.

His arms were wrapped securely around her, his warmth comforting, but right now, food was her priority.

With slow, silent movements, she slipped out of bed and tiptoed out of the room.

Making her way to the kitchen, she opened the fridge, hoping to find something to eat. But there was nothing ready.

Her gaze then shifted downward, and that’s when she finally noticed—her wounds on her knees and elbows were still fresh, still bleeding. The dried blood had mixed with fresh ones, staining her skin.

She had worn torn jeans, which concealed her wounded knees somewhat, but now, she ignored the pain. Hunger mattered more.

Sighing, she turned towards the cupboards, searching for anything edible. Just as she was about to reach for a packet of biscuits, a voice called out behind her.

“Amrita?”

She turned swiftly to see Geeta standing there, concern etched on her face.

“What happened?” Geeta’s eyes scanned her, immediately sensing something was wrong.

Amrita straightened, shaking her head. “It’s nothing, Aunty. I was just hungry.”

Geeta’s eyes trailed down to her elbows, where the wounds were exposed and raw. Her expression darkened with worry.

“Nothing?” Geeta repeated, stepping forward. “Your wounds are still fresh! Did you even get them treated?”

Amrita instinctively pulled her arms behind her. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

But Geeta didn’t buy it. Without another word, she gently grabbed Amrita’s wrist and pulled her towards her room.

“Wait—” Amrita tried to protest, but Geeta’s grip was firm.

When they entered the room, Ishwar was already inside, reading a file. He looked up in surprise as Geeta dragged Amrita to sit on the bed.

“Ishwar, get the first aid box,” Geeta instructed immediately.

Ishwar, though slightly confused, nodded and left the room.

“Aunty, this really isn’t necessary—” Amrita tried again, but Geeta shot her a look.

“Sit still,” she said firmly. “You’re not fine, and I won’t let you neglect yourself.”

Within moments, Ishwar returned with the first aid box.

Geeta sat beside Amrita, pulling out cotton and antiseptic. Gently, she began cleaning the wounds on Amrita’s elbows. The sting made Amrita flinch slightly, but she didn’t say anything.

As Geeta focused on her arms, Ishwar’s gaze dropped to Amrita’s knees. His brows furrowed as he noticed the dried blood peeking through her torn jeans.

Without saying a word, he knelt in front of her.

Amrita’s eyes widened. “Oh no, Uncle, you don’t have to do this,” she said quickly, suddenly feeling uneasy.

Ishwar looked up at her, his face calm but determined. “Just let me.”

Before she could protest again, he gently rolled up the torn fabric around her knees, revealing the wounds underneath. His touch was careful as he cleaned the cuts, his movements precise and soothing.

Amrita bit her lip, watching silently. She had never received such gentle care from an elder before—not since her father. Something about it made her chest tighten.

Geeta, noticing the way Amrita was watching Ishwar, smiled softly but didn’t comment.

Once both her knees and elbows were cleaned and bandaged, Ishwar finally sat back.

“There,” he said, his voice calm. “Now you’re fine.”

Amrita looked at both of them, unsure of what to say. A part of her wanted to thank them, but another part… just felt foreign to this kind of affection.

Geeta smiled warmly at Amrita. “You should eat something now.”

Ishwar was still sitting on the floor in front of Amrita, his posture relaxed yet observant. Geeta glanced at him before turning back to Amrita. “Wait here, I’ll bring some food for you.”

Amrita hesitated. “Aunty, it’s okay. I can—”

“No,” Geeta interrupted gently but firmly. “You’ve gone too long without eating. Just sit here and wait.”

Seeing the concern in Geeta’s eyes, Amrita reluctantly nodded.

Geeta smiled. “Good. Do you want anything specific?”

Amrita shook her head. “Anything is fine.”

With a small nod, Geeta left the room, leaving Amrita and Ishwar alone.

Amrita looked at Ishwar, who was still sitting on the floor in front of her. She frowned. “Uncle, sit up. You don’t have to sit there.”

Ishwar shook his head. “I’m fine, beta.”

She pursed her lips, feeling a strange warmth at the word beta, but didn’t argue further.

After a few minutes, Geeta returned, carrying a tray filled with warm, delicious-smelling food. The aroma instantly made Amrita realize just how hungry she was.

Geeta handed the plate to Ishwar and then, to Amrita’s surprise, sat behind her.

Amrita turned slightly, confused. “Aunty?”

Geeta smiled and reached for Amrita’s hair. “Your hair is a mess,” she said softly. “Let me fix it.”

Before Amrita could say anything, Geeta gently gathered her long hair and began braiding it with practiced hands.

The touch was warm, comforting. Amrita sat still, a foreign yet soothing feeling washing over her.

As Ishwar held the plate, he picked up a small bite and extended it toward Amrita.

“I can eat by myself,” Amrita said, hesitating.

“We know,” Ishwar replied with a kind smile. “But let us do this for you.”

She glanced at him, then at Geeta, who was still braiding her hair with care. A lump formed in her throat, but she nodded and allowed Ishwar to feed her.

Geeta, still focused on the braid, sighed softly. “I always wanted a daughter,” she murmured. “I used to dream about braiding her hair like this… taking care of her.”

Amrita stilled for a moment, then smiled faintly. “You would’ve been a great mother to a daughter, Aunty.”

Geeta paused for a second before pressing a soft kiss on Amrita’s head. “And you would’ve been a wonderful daughter, beta.”

Amrita’s grip on the bedsheet tightened as an unfamiliar warmth filled her chest.

Ishwar, seeing the emotions flicker in Amrita’s eyes, continued feeding her in silence.

As Ishwar continued feeding her, he spoke in a calm voice. “Do you know the Devil's Group?”

Amrita, chewing her food, nodded. “Yes.” She swallowed and added, “It’s a very interesting group. They were my role models for the mafia world.”

Geeta remained silent, listening intently as Ishwar asked, “Oh really?”

Amrita nodded, her eyes lighting up with interest. “The Devil’s group is… unique. Unlike other mafia organizations, they don’t have a leader. They have too many members—eleven, to be exact. But what’s really strange is that they don’t even use names. They’re just called Devil 1, Devil 2, Devil 3… and so on.”

Ishwar smirked slightly, placing another bite in front of her. “You’ve done your homework on them.”

Amrita smirked back before taking the bite. “Of course.”

“And what else do you know?” Ishwar pressed.

Amrita leaned back slightly, thoughtful. “I believe that the Kaal gang is the next generation of the Devil’s group. The way they operate is too similar. No leader, and their members go by Kaal 1, Kaal 2, Kaal 3, Kaal 4, Kaal 5 and Kaal 6. They are only six in number, but they’re just as feared as the Devils. Both groups hold a terrifying reputation in the underworld.”

Ishwar nodded as if contemplating her words.

Geeta, who had been silent so far, finally spoke. “Who in the Devil’s group caught your attention the most?”

Amrita didn’t even hesitate. “Devil 5.”

Ishwar and Geeta exchanged a glance before Ishwar asked, “Why?”

Amrita’s eyes shone with admiration. “Because he—or she—was unbelievably strong. Their fighting skills were unmatched. I’ve seen their fight recordings, and their moves were mind-blowing. Their agility, their strength, their unpredictability… they were a true warrior.”

She paused before adding, “I actually learned how to fight by watching their videos.”

Ishwar’s lips curled into an amused smile. “Impressive.”

Geeta chuckled. “And what about the Kaal group? Who impressed you the most there?”

Amrita answered instantly. “Kaal 3.”

Geeta smirked and tilted her head, intrigued. “Oh? Why?”

Amrita took a moment before replying, her voice carrying a mix of admiration and curiosity.

“Because he’s different. He doesn’t just rely on brute strength. He’s calm, composed, and yet so powerful. His fighting style is precise and effortless. Every move is calculated, every strike deadly. Watching him fight is like watching an artist paint on a canvas. He’s my idol.”

Geeta chuckled while Ishwar shook his head, smiling. “You really have an eye for talent, don’t you?”

Amrita just smirked. “I recognize greatness when I see it.”

Ishwar raised an eyebrow, amused. "How did you even get videos of them?"

Amrita smirked, leaning back slightly. "Divya is a pretty good hacker."

All three of them chuckled at that, the atmosphere lighter than before. Ishwar was still feeding her, and Amrita found herself smiling at him. It was… comforting.

Geeta, watching their interaction, casually asked, "So, how did your group end up being called Shadow Senanis?"

Amrita shrugged. "People started calling us that, and we just went along with it."

"And your names?" Ishwar asked, feeding her another bite.

Amrita smirked. "That was Anu. She's very picky about names. She handpicked each one of them."

They all laughed at that, knowing how meticulous Ananya could be.

As Geeta finished braiding her hair, she gently turned Amrita around and showed her the neatly woven braid in the mirror.

Amrita gasped, lips parting in amazement. “It’s so beautiful.” Her voice was filled with pure wonder.

Geeta smiled warmly. “You like it?”

“I love it,” Amrita said, still staring at the braid, her fingers tracing it lightly. “No one’s ever braided my hair like this before…”

Geeta’s hand reached out and caressed her cheek. “I’ll do it whenever you want.”

A small, contented sigh left Amrita’s lips as she leaned slightly into the touch. “Thank you, Amma.”

Silence.

Amrita blinked, realizing what she had just said. Geeta froze, her eyes wide, and Ishwar, who was still sitting beside them, looked just as surprised.

Amrita slowly turned to face Geeta, hesitant but hopeful. “I can call you that, right?” she asked softly.

Geeta’s eyes welled up, and in the next second, she pulled Amrita into a tight hug. “Of course, dear. Of course,” she whispered, holding her close.

A warmth spread through Amrita’s chest as she hugged her back, a soft, genuine smile forming on her lips.

Ishwar watched them, his expression unreadable yet filled with something deep, something unspoken.

After a few moments, Geeta pulled back, wiping her eyes.

Ishwar, who had been silently observing, picked up the plate again and continued feeding Amrita as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

She smiled at him before taking a bite, feeling a strange sense of comfort she hadn’t known she needed.

As she finished her last bite, she looked at Ishwar and, without thinking much, said, “Thank you, Papa.”

This time, Ishwar froze. His hand stilled in mid-air, and his lips parted slightly as if he had misheard her.

Geeta turned to him, and for the first time, Ishwar’s ever-calm expression broke—his eyes glistened, a deep emotion flickering within them. A slow, teary smile stretched across his lips.

Amrita smiled wide, tilting her head. “Is that okay?”

Ishwar finally let out a breathy chuckle and nodded. “More than okay.”

A small laugh left Amrita’s lips, and she stood up, stretching. “Alright, I should get back now.”

She walked toward the door, turning back with a bright smile. “Bye, Ma. Bye, Papa.”

They both smiled warmly. “Bye, Amrita.”

Amrita scrunched her nose. “Call me Ammu. That’s what Daddy used to call me.”

Geeta and Ishwar exchanged a look before Ishwar nodded. “Alright then. Bye, Ammu.”

Geeta chuckled. “Sleep well, Ammu.”

Amrita’s heart swelled as she grinned and walked back to her room, feeling lighter than she had in years.

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She had spent a lifetime pushing people away, but now, she was finally pulling them closer.🌺✨🩷