Surprise ✨

I know many readers think Tara is immature, doesn't think things through and is often impulsive. She is. It's the flaws that make her. As she gets older, she'll get patient, considerate and learn to make wise decisions. But her attraction to men, having sexual urges at nineteen, is neither abnormal nor something to be judged. And whoever thinks she's a slut for it, or pathetic for feeling jealous because the man she's attracted to might be in relationship with someone else, can stop reading the book.

-• coming home •-

I fling myself in Vivaan's arms.

I don't even wait to safely get down the last stair of the jet before my body, on it's own accord throws itself in his solace. And he doesn't disappoint, his strong arms surround me almost immediately, then I feel my feet leave the ground, and wearing invisible wings, I fly in the sky of my brother's embrace.

My throat clogs, eyes burn and before I realise it, tears are flowing down my cheeks unstoppably.

Two years without him.

Two years without my favourite man.

Two years without my first love.

I didn't realise how busy my brothers' lives are until I learned they'd never be able to come visit us in London. At least Yuvraaj stopped by once or twice in six months because of his business, but Dad, Vivaan and Agastya met behind the screens, in the mercy of growing technology and disappeared there, visible but not tangible.

There comes a time you appreciate what you had, it's in the moments you don't have it anymore.

As someone who was prepared to live a life of an orphan, I didn't realise I would get so attached with my half brothers in less than four months that the wound of it will foster for over two years, always reminding me what I have left behind in exchange of my safety.

Vivaan gently lowers me to the ground and I feel my feet touch the flat surface again. He pulls away, an unmistakable glow of tears in his eyes, but I've never seen him so happy before. He's grinning widely, his lips barely surmounts the glee, it so full filling, so whole, as though I'm filled to the brim with something so strange but satisfying that I'm devoid of every other desire. Like this is my peace and this is why I exist.

His broad, silken, soft as nothing ever materialised hands rise to cup my cheeks and I quickly hold them with mine, pressing them into my cheeks so I feel him close, so I feel him real.

I don't know what connection I have with this man.

Maybe it's because he was the first to accept me without heeding to the fact that I was different, that I would never be able to fit in. He didn't hesitate, didn't flinch, he embraced me, and simply allowed me a place so huge in his life, it's like he exists to teach you of the art of giving and everything that's sacrifice. Whether it's trust, honesty, loyalty or love. One that's unarguably the most vulnerable form of intimacy, one that leaves you undone and bare, one that reveals your flaws and imperfections, one that gives you hope, because despite all, love is to accept, understand and cherish. And he did all that, without a question, without a demand or a promise, he offered me the purest form of love with a smile on his face.

And hoped nothing in return.

"Shh, stop now," he tries to brush off my tears but everytime he does that, newer ones eagerly replace them. "Look, your tiny little nose is all red," and he boops it, his own voice heavy with emotions, thick with sorrow, slicked with gratitude. "You've grown up so beautifully," his hands slide down my cheeks, nestling over my shoulders before they run down my arms. I watch with a smile as he gazes me fondly, as if he's watching me grow right before his eyes, as if he's comparing the memories of the old me with the new me standing before him and can't believe it's still me, both the versions he loves and adores.

"You've grown old," I tease, but my tone isn't light. I blame it on my sensitive ass for bursting out in tears the moment I saw him.

He chuckles, his amber golds coming back to rest on my face. "I have, haven't I? You know who else have grown older?" He asks and steps aside, revealing Dad a few feet behind him. "Go, he is waiting for you."

There comes another round of tears and snots.

"Help this old man reach his little star, Tara," and when he opens his arms, I rush past Vivaan and hug him fiercely. His arms wrap around my body, lifting me off the ground, and my wings spread in a new sky.

A minute later after he settles me down, I pull away, and cup his face, tilting it down so I can kiss his forehead. He smiles through tears at the action before returning the affection on my cheeks. I toss my arms around his neck and hug him once again.

"Just to remind you, I'm in the queue." A blubbered laugh falls past my lips hearing the obnoxious jerk I call Agastya.

Unlocking my arms, I turn to face him. "Why, Agastya? Last time I video called you you said you're dreading the day of my return." I place a hand on my hip, regarding him with a tasteless smile.

"Yeah, true. I couldn't sleep last night." He tells me. "Nightmares of you kept me up."

"I better keep my distance from you then. We don't want you to develop PTSD." I place a dramatic hand on my chest, ignoring him with a roll of my eyes as I lock my arms around my father's torso and rest my cheek on his chest. I feel his chest vibrate with a surpassed laugh as his hand comes to rest on the top of my head.

Agastya shrugs. "Good for me."

I mock a nod.

Then I realise an absence of certain someone. "Wait!" Standing straight, I throw a glance around. "Where's Yuvraaj Bhai?" I demand, my eyes narrowing in slowly brewing anger.

Vivaan sighs. "You know where,"

"Oh God, that man is impossible!" I groan.

"He said he had an important meeting he can't cancel." Dad tries to appease me. He's like a referee everytime two of his kids get up to argue.

"That's no reason to bail out on such an historic moment. I mean, Taranya Singh Chauhan is coming home!" I spread my arms, gesturing to myself.

Yuvaan is first to roll his eyes and stroll towards the car.

"I never knew you had so much narcissism inside you," Janet snorts.

My arms fall to my side. "I'm important, Janet."

"She's definitely your sibling." Dad eyes Vivaan in disappointment, who, averse to the look on our father's face, appears smug.

"Bhai, I'm terribly jet lagged. Can we please leave?" Yuvaan calls out from the car, his eyes worn down, crescent shadows taunting his pale skin.

"Yeah," Vivaan nods, hurrying around to instruct the guards which suitcase goes in the back of which car.

In the meantime, I look back at Agastya. He quickly pretends to glance around the airport. My lips curb the internal urge to laugh. If he's not willing to admit how much he missed me, I'm not giving in either. Let him suffer.

But I want to hug him so bad.

Nope. Not happening until he admits he missed me.

Hardening my heart, I grab Janet's hand and lead her towards the white Maserati waiting for us. The driver opens the door and I slide in, scooting closer to the window so she has enough space to sit comfortably.

"You two are such sadists." She comments, looking at Agastya from the wing mirror. He's staring at our car forlornly, like a little kid lost in the candy shop, having everything right before his eyes, but on the higher shelves, hence out of reach. My heart writhes a little and I sigh in defeat, opening the door to step out when she grabs my elbow, jutting her chin to show me he's already walking away to his car.

I close the door and sink back into the seat, crossing my arms on my chest before I allow a much deserved rest to my sleep deprived eyes. Upon reviving the engine, the car jerks forward a little, then smoothly rolls down the bumpless asphalt before finally touching the busy roads of Jaigarh.

I tilt my head to the side and open my eyes just the slightest, smiling at all the familiar road signs we pass. They're now printed in my head. I had stared at them hard when I was on my way to the airport, knowing it'll be two years later I'll get to see these familiar lanes and alleys. I wanted to remember this place as much as I can. And now that I feel this familiarity strike me from within, I'm so happy to feel the yearning for the place I lived in for less than four months, but gave me memories worth of a lifetime.

That goes to say it's not time that bounds you to the place, it's the people you meet there, and of course, the memories you make with them.

My spine straightens when the first glimpse of palace reveals itself. Sliding the window low, I place my hand on the sill and stare outside as the palace becomes clearer and clearer the closer we drive.

"You're looking at it like it's your home." Janet hums softly.

I frown at her.

What does she mean by that? It is my home.

"I mean, the first time you came here, there might have been a look of awe on your face. Something a stranger will have when they see this palace." She glances through the windshield. "Like I did when I first came here. Like I do now," she emphasises. "But you don't anymore. You spent what? Three months here. And then two years again in the country where you were born. But you look at this place like it's your home. It's strange. As if you know, that you belong here, always have."

"You should seriously write." I state.

Janet chuckles. "I was being stupid, ignore me."

"No," I shake my head. "Whatever you said, makes sense. I dont know how to put it in words, but yes, this place is my home. After mom's death, London never felt the same. It felt empty. Like you're staying in a house that no longer has a roof?" I hold her hand that's on her lap. She quickly clutches it, nodding at me, as though she understands my dilemma, my guilt of not being able to accept my birthplace as it used to be once. "It's still my home, but it's not the same anymore."

"I get it." She smiles reassuringly at me. "You want to remember the one who gave you, and forget the one who only took from you."

I nibble on my lower lip. "We associate our feelings with everything around us. It's not really fair, is it?"

She shrugs. "Everyone needs a company in their misery. We all want to blame our situation on someone who can take the accusations without feeling hurt, without being able to express themselves, so we can feel a little better about ourselves. In your case, it's a place."

I wring my fingers together. "We humans are assholes."

"No, we're a library." She interlocks our arms and smiles broadly at me. "Right now you're reading happiness, reconciliation and nostalgia, but having read loss, grief and bereavement just before is making you feel guilty for enjoying your current read. So it's okay if you blame the book and not yourself."

Fresh tears bubble up in my eyes. "You should seriously write."

She laughs softly and rests her head on my shoulder. We both gaze out of the window, retracing the familiar path to the palace with the car.

Our car stops just behind Dad's and Vivaan's. Once they step out, and their car drives off, our wheels further and halts beside the semicircle marbled staircase.

Vivaan waves off the driver when the man rushes out to open the door, doing it himself for us. I step out and following me, Janet exits the car. The driver closes the door, gets inside the car and drives off, allowing Yuvaan's Ashton Martin to follow up.

Once everyone has stepped out of their respective cars, we move inside the palace. I look around, not with a sense of unfamiliarity this time, but like I'm recollecting moments I left in the corners of these hallways, and now that I'm here, they can finally set free to make space for new ones.

"Janet, we know you've no problem sharing room with Tara, but guests in this palace have separate rooms for them on the ground floor. So we'll need you to abide by the rules this time." My jaw drops at that. No way she's getting to live at the ground floor.

"Why?" I ask Vivaan, shocked at the revelation.

"Atithi Devo Bhava," Dad enunciates.

My brows furrow together. "What does that mean?"

"A guest is akin to God," Yuvaan murmurs as he heads upstairs to his room, the twins following him, more like dragging themselves behind him.

Vivaan nods. "What he said."

"Revering guests with the same respect as God is a traditional Hindu philosophy." Dad adds patiently.

"Oh," Janet smirks, nudging me on the shoulder in a teasing manner.

I grimace at her. "This?" I look at her up and down. "God?" I look back at my brother, and roll my eyes. "Please. If this was hell, she'd be in lost and found department as one of Satan's abandoned child."

Vivaan clears his throat but the quirk of his lips give him away.

"Hey!" Janet gasps.

"Whatever. I'm going upstairs to my room. Go serve your God." I grumble and head upstairs.

"You're just jealous." She shouts after me.

"Sure, Miss. Delusional." I wave my fingers at her. "Bhai, let me know when Yuvraaj Bhai arrives home." I inform him.

"Sure." He replies.

"So, Mr. Third Hot, lead the way." I hear her say to my brother.

"Third Hot? Who's first?"

"Papa Chauhan!" She declares.

I shake my head. She's impossible to deal with. And I'm sure with that one sentence she got both my father and brother staring at her like they just encountered an alien. A true nutcase in the making.

"What the fuck is wrong with her?" Agastya mumbles in disbelief. "Don't tell me she has hots for our father." He climbs the remaining stairs to eliminate the gap between us.

"She's just kidding." I snort.

His nose scrunches in disgust, then he brushes it off with a, "Anyway, tell me what did you miss the most in London?" Hands shoved deep in his pockets, he strolls beside me.

"You?" I look at him, a teasing smile on my face but then he stops and regards me with a look of surprise.

"Really?"

"No, dumbass," I scoff and continue upstairs.

"Tara," he calls out behind me.

I turn around and lean against the banister. "What?"

"Did you really not miss me?"

"What about you? Did you miss me?"

He drops his head and nods.

A smile breaks on my lips. "I missed you too," just as I get off the banister to hug him, he lifts his head, holding back his chuckles.

"Got ya!" He hollers. "So you did miss me huh?" He questions smugly and walks off basking in his "I'm too good for this world" kinda attitude. I glare after him. What a fucking knucklehead. God damn it, I gave in too easily.

An idea pops in my head.

I climb a stair and yelp. "Shit!"

Agastya whirls around in a speed of light and is by my side in a flash. "Wh- What's wrong? Did you sprain it?"

I will the tears to brim my eyes. "I'm fine. Go away." I toss aside his hand as it reaches out to check me.

"Tara-" he looks up, guilt clashing with longing in his onyx eyes.

"Leave me alone," I whisper and make a show of struggling to stand straight, whimpering and wincing through the process. I hiss as soon as I take a step forward. Agastya wastes no time in scooping me in his arms. "Agastya-"

"Don't," he warns me and carries me to my room.

"You can leave," I tell him after he sets me down on the edge of my bed.

He kneels in front of me and takes my ankle in his hand, gently prodding with his thumb to check for a possible swelling. "Where does it hurt?"

"Why do you care?" I try to pull my ankle away.

He holds it tighter. "I'm sorry." His eyes meet mine. "I missed you. God, you've no idea how much I missed you. Everytime Arush told me you were out with your friends, I couldn't focus on anything. I just needed to know you were safe and protected. I know I'm a possessive freak when it comes to you. But sue me for not trusting anyone around you to protect you the way I can do. Because I know I'll lay my life out for you and I'll do it unflinchingly. And while I'm aware Dad and our other brothers would do it too, I still can't bring myself to trust them. I'm sorry I made you feel I didn't miss you, like it wasn't me who couldn't sleep last night because I was just so excited about your arrival, like it wasn't me unable to focus on my practice even though scouting season is close. I'm a douchebag but I've never cared for anyone the way I care for you." He's pushed back with an impact because of my hug the moment he's done speaking.

"I missed you too." I wound my arms around him tighter. Failing to express myself so beautifully the way he did, I pull away and smile up at him. He had parted his legs to let me settle on the floor comfortably in his arms. "I can't wait for our run tomorrow morning." I say and I know that's enough to reveal all the unsaid and unheard between us.

He grins broadly, so pretty that if it could be embodied, it'd be a bright, warm place with abundant sunshine and colorful blooms.

"Bhai was right, you've grown up." He holds me at an arms length and looks at me fondly. "Now it's going to be even harder to keep men away from my baby sister." He cups my cheek.

"Oh, stop it." I roll my eyes and get up, holding out my hand for him. He slaps his in mine, heaving himself up on his feet.

"So it was all act, huh?" He kicks me lightly on the shin.

I stick out my tongue at him. "Now go, I've to freshen up and unpack." I turn around to make my way towards the suitcases in the corner of my room. A pleasantly surprised gasp leaves my mouth when he hugs me from behind. I feel his temple rest on the side of my head and smile, cupping his forearms that are around my shoulders.

"Welcome home, short stuff."

"Thank you," I whisper.

He presses a long kiss on the crown of my head before walking out of the room.

I unpack my stuff and arrange everything neatly in the walk-in closet with the help of my personal maid Juyi. She's still the same. But now she looks attuned with the work around the palace. Not a newbie anymore.

Shower occupies the remaining of my evening. As I'm blow drying my hair, my phone chimes with a message.

Favourite Hooman 🌻: Bhai is home.

I switch off the blow dryer and rush out of the bedroom, slapping my forehead in realisation and go back to grab my card key.

I know I'm probably being ridiculous demanding attention from a man who didn't even come to pick us up at the airport. But I feel behind that cold, intimidating mask, there's a man who's just awkward and in need of someone to teach him how to express himself without thinking he's letting himself fall weak.

"Uh huh!" I cough when I find him walking past the staircase, his secretary following him with some files and a briefcase.

Yuvraaj stops and looks up, his stern, icy eyes melting, softening at the sight of me.

That's enough signal for me to rush downstairs and reach him, stopping an inch back, my arms slightly open, giving him a hint that I'm about to steal a hug from him.

His head tilts hesitantly, an agreement, a yes.

I chuckle and wrap my arms around his torso, burying my face in his broad, strong chest, feeling at absolute peace as soon as I inhale his subtle, light cologne. It's lavender, with a texture of silk, I know stupid, but that's what it smells like. Like if it could be touched, it'd be the softest piece of purple, rich and royal, and luxurious, but evocative, and gentle. As if he's revealing the soft side of his otherwise hard nature.

His arms are reluctant as they come around me.

"I missed you. I know, shocking." My voice is muffled against his chest.

I hear his secretary chuckle.

When I pull away, his expressions have softened too, his eyes cast downward, and with the delicacy of the spring sunshine, he reaches to tuck a wayward lock of my hair behind my ear. "How are you?"

"Never been so happy before." I admit, pulling away to look up at him.

He nods and pushes his hands inside the pockets of his trousers. "You should get some rest before dinner. I believe we've something important to discuss."

I hum, feeling the dread settle in.

"I'll see you at eight thirty." He pats my head and flicks his fingers at the secretary, walking off with her in tow.

After he disappears into the hallway, my eyes stray towards the one that held some forbidden secrets of my temporary stay here. I walk up to the room, one which evokes too many bitter memories, and realise, even if bitter, I miss them.

I put my hand on the knob, but release it before I'm forced to open it.

Tonight. I'll come back here tonight.

She's finally home!

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.