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I'm offended by his insinuation. “And I thought living abroad might have taught you about gender equality,” I snap. “Just because I'm getting married doesn't mean I'll abandon my other responsibilities. What century are you living in, Mr. Vikram Singh Grover?”
He drops his spoon. “It's not about the century, Cub,” he answers. “I simply don't like it when people argue with me.”
“Why?” I tease. “Are you afraid of losing the argument? Or losing your temper?”
“Me? Lose my temper?” He laughs sarcastically. “Look at yourself before accusing me.”
Daadi's gaze shifts between us.
“Why don't you tell Daadi it was you who tampered with my phone?” I growl.
“Did you tell her you spilled hot coffee on me?” he counters.
“Stop it,” Daadi shouts, interrupting us. “What's wrong with you two? This is the dinner table, not a war zone.”
We both look away from each other, focusing on our plates. Our earlier doubts have now been confirmed to Daadi, thanks to our own revelations. She rises from her seat.
“You're both equally at fault,” Daadi continues. “Vikram, you can't break her belongings, and Maahi, I didn't expect you to hurt Vikram so brutally.”
This is the first time Daadi has scolded me, but I know I deserve it. I shouldn't have hurt Prince Pompous to such an extent.
“I'm sorry,” I apologize, hating to see Daadi upset. If apologizing makes her feel better, I won't hesitate.
“Say it to him,” Daadi instructs me. “And Vikram, you should apologize to Maahi as well.”
“Ladies first,” he shrugs, looking at me.
Can I strangle him once and then apologize twice? He truly deserves it.
“You two patch things up while I go get dessert,” Daadi says, heading to the kitchen.
I take a moment to compose myself while he stares at me, waiting for my apology.
“I'm sorry,” I mumble, avoiding his gaze.
“What?” he smirks. “Did you say something, Cub?”
I grip the fork tightly, swallowing my anger. He's provoking me, but I don't want to upset Daadi further.
“I said I'm sorry,” I yell this time.
“Good,” he smiles. “You should be.”
“Vikram,” Daadi calls out, emerging from the kitchen with a plate. “It's your turn now. Don't blame me if Maahi doesn't forgive you. Besides, she won't be here much longer. Once she's married, you'll miss this opportunity.”
A frown mars his face, the same expression he had when Daadi introduced Shyam and our engagement earlier.
“Great,” he snaps at Daadi. “Just marry her off so you can be free of her responsibilities.”
I can't tolerate his comment. “Responsibility? Look who's talking, Daadi. Do he and his parents even know the meaning of the word?”
Vikram stares at me, bewildered. “You can't talk about me and my family like that.”
“Only because I'm speaking the truth?”
“Maahi Awasthi, don’t you dare,” he warns.
“Oh, I dare, because unlike you and your parents, even if I get married and move away, I'll never leave Daadi alone. I understand my duties better than you do.”
