6 hours ago
Chapter 9 – Years and Shadows
Pratap called the next morning, voice warm over the phone.
“Prem, heard the good news from the doctor. Nivi pregnant? Congratulations, da! You two deserve this happiness.”
Prem smiled, holding Nivi’s hand. “Thanks, sir. We’re overjoyed.”
Pratap chuckled. “Now, about the house — I can arrange a better place quickly. Low rent, safe area.”
Prem paused, resolve firming. “No, sir. I appreciate it, but… I’ll handle this. Lessons learned. No more depending on others. Whatever we need, I’ll get from my own pocket. It doesn’t mean I won’t accept help when it’s beyond me, but if it’s in my ability… I want to do it that way.”
Pratap was silent a moment, then nodded over the line. “Understanding you, da. Proud of you. Call if you need.”
Ever since the incident, Prem never let Nivi outside without him.
Overprotective? Yes.
But he couldn’t risk it.
He took care of her every step during the pregnancy — doctor visits, cooking simple meals, even helping with baths when she felt weak.
Nivi felt his love in every gesture, but at times, the constant watch felt like a cage.
“I can go to the market alone,” she’d say softly.
“No,” he’d reply, kissing her forehead. “Not safe.”
She dismissed it as love, buried the frustration.
Months passed.
Aara was born — healthy, crying girl with Nivi’s fair skin.
Pratap was the first visitor, beaming like a father.
He caressed Nivi’s hair gently. “You did great, ma.”
Prem felt the old unease — that odd nausea at the man touching his wife’s head.
He hated it, but smiled through.
Pratap was the only one he entertained.
Time blurred.
Prem shifted them to a ground floor individual villa — high rent, but bigger, safer. Garden for Aara to play, locked gates.
Pratap offered help. Prem refused politely.
“I’ll make it on my own.”
He bought a laptop on EMI, started part-time IT outsourcing work in the evenings.
His computer science engineering degree — shelved for love and necessity — finally paid off.
Small gigs at first. Then clients. Revenue grew.
Nivi was his remedy, his anchor — supportive, never complaining.
But at times, she felt the cage tighter.
Until Aara turned 5, she was not allowed outside alone.. It's not an order.. But she obeyed it.
Years ran like water.
Nine years since marriage.
Prem had grown his side work into a small empire — contracts, a team, steady income.
The old car was upgraded. Planning to buy a house soon.
But first — his own company launch.
For her.
He knew Nivi’s buried dream — to be an entrepreneur, a boutique or software firm or even a salon. She was open to anything.
He thought starting his company would make her happy — inspire her, show it's possible.
Now, nine years later, he sat on the sofa, Prakash’s name irritating him as Pratap reminded it.
Coming back to the present day.
The morning had started with hope — the surprise company key for their ninth anniversary.
But ended with Aaravind’s face, Pratap’s console words misunderstood.
Now, Nivi missing. Aara at college.
The house empty.
Doubt creeping back.
Like always.
Yes he was overthinking..
Aravind was back in the game. Would he be a threat this time, or could Prem finally overcome the shadow of that scar? And why had Nivi taken so long to return? His mood soured further — only a few hours left until the anniversary function.
As he sat lost in overthinking, the front door opened.
Nivi walked in, carrying a gift-wrapped box and a colorful wrapper bag.
Prem was about to ask where she’d been, but the sight stopped him.
Not the tailor. A surprise anniversary gift for him.
The realization hit like cool water. His insecurities melted away, a genuine smile breaking through.
He could launch the company without Aaravind’s contract. No need to risk reminding her of that old trauma. He decided right then — he’d never tell her about the morning’s encounter.
As soon as Aara came home from college, they got ready and headed out to the car.
Prem noticed the front of Nivi’s scooty was scratched and dented.
“What happened here?”
Nivi hesitated, looking sheepish. “I… I don’t know exactly. I was looking at shops while driving, distracted. Hit a costly car. Panicked and just drove away.”
Prem shook his head slowly, half-amused, half-concerned. “Really, Nivi?”
They climbed into the car. While driving, he asked, “Did you see the car model or number plate?”
She thought for a moment. “White… luxury one. BMW or Jaguar, I think. Something written on the back, but I don’t remember.”
Prem shrugged. “Not important. Leave it.”
Nivi stared out the window, recalling the moment.
As she sped away after the bump, she remembered the driver shouting behind her:
“Rohan sir! That woman — she hit our car!”
She only caught the name — Rohan.
But she decided not to mention it.
They were heading to the anniversary function, after all.
Pratap called the next morning, voice warm over the phone.
“Prem, heard the good news from the doctor. Nivi pregnant? Congratulations, da! You two deserve this happiness.”
Prem smiled, holding Nivi’s hand. “Thanks, sir. We’re overjoyed.”
Pratap chuckled. “Now, about the house — I can arrange a better place quickly. Low rent, safe area.”
Prem paused, resolve firming. “No, sir. I appreciate it, but… I’ll handle this. Lessons learned. No more depending on others. Whatever we need, I’ll get from my own pocket. It doesn’t mean I won’t accept help when it’s beyond me, but if it’s in my ability… I want to do it that way.”
Pratap was silent a moment, then nodded over the line. “Understanding you, da. Proud of you. Call if you need.”
Ever since the incident, Prem never let Nivi outside without him.
Overprotective? Yes.
But he couldn’t risk it.
He took care of her every step during the pregnancy — doctor visits, cooking simple meals, even helping with baths when she felt weak.
Nivi felt his love in every gesture, but at times, the constant watch felt like a cage.
“I can go to the market alone,” she’d say softly.
“No,” he’d reply, kissing her forehead. “Not safe.”
She dismissed it as love, buried the frustration.
Months passed.
Aara was born — healthy, crying girl with Nivi’s fair skin.
Pratap was the first visitor, beaming like a father.
He caressed Nivi’s hair gently. “You did great, ma.”
Prem felt the old unease — that odd nausea at the man touching his wife’s head.
He hated it, but smiled through.
Pratap was the only one he entertained.
Time blurred.
Prem shifted them to a ground floor individual villa — high rent, but bigger, safer. Garden for Aara to play, locked gates.
Pratap offered help. Prem refused politely.
“I’ll make it on my own.”
He bought a laptop on EMI, started part-time IT outsourcing work in the evenings.
His computer science engineering degree — shelved for love and necessity — finally paid off.
Small gigs at first. Then clients. Revenue grew.
Nivi was his remedy, his anchor — supportive, never complaining.
But at times, she felt the cage tighter.
Until Aara turned 5, she was not allowed outside alone.. It's not an order.. But she obeyed it.
Years ran like water.
Nine years since marriage.
Prem had grown his side work into a small empire — contracts, a team, steady income.
The old car was upgraded. Planning to buy a house soon.
But first — his own company launch.
For her.
He knew Nivi’s buried dream — to be an entrepreneur, a boutique or software firm or even a salon. She was open to anything.
He thought starting his company would make her happy — inspire her, show it's possible.
Now, nine years later, he sat on the sofa, Prakash’s name irritating him as Pratap reminded it.
Coming back to the present day.
The morning had started with hope — the surprise company key for their ninth anniversary.
But ended with Aaravind’s face, Pratap’s console words misunderstood.
Now, Nivi missing. Aara at college.
The house empty.
Doubt creeping back.
Like always.
Yes he was overthinking..
Aravind was back in the game. Would he be a threat this time, or could Prem finally overcome the shadow of that scar? And why had Nivi taken so long to return? His mood soured further — only a few hours left until the anniversary function.
As he sat lost in overthinking, the front door opened.
Nivi walked in, carrying a gift-wrapped box and a colorful wrapper bag.
Prem was about to ask where she’d been, but the sight stopped him.
Not the tailor. A surprise anniversary gift for him.
The realization hit like cool water. His insecurities melted away, a genuine smile breaking through.
He could launch the company without Aaravind’s contract. No need to risk reminding her of that old trauma. He decided right then — he’d never tell her about the morning’s encounter.
As soon as Aara came home from college, they got ready and headed out to the car.
Prem noticed the front of Nivi’s scooty was scratched and dented.
“What happened here?”
Nivi hesitated, looking sheepish. “I… I don’t know exactly. I was looking at shops while driving, distracted. Hit a costly car. Panicked and just drove away.”
Prem shook his head slowly, half-amused, half-concerned. “Really, Nivi?”
They climbed into the car. While driving, he asked, “Did you see the car model or number plate?”
She thought for a moment. “White… luxury one. BMW or Jaguar, I think. Something written on the back, but I don’t remember.”
Prem shrugged. “Not important. Leave it.”
Nivi stared out the window, recalling the moment.
As she sped away after the bump, she remembered the driver shouting behind her:
“Rohan sir! That woman — she hit our car!”
She only caught the name — Rohan.
But she decided not to mention it.
They were heading to the anniversary function, after all.
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