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Chapter 23 - New Year Eve-I

Vihaan's POV:

Even after driving halfway across the city, I could still feel the ghost of that small, gentle moment—the way she'd stood at her gate, the cool night air around us, and how natural it felt to lean in and press a kiss to her forehead. It wasn't planned. It just…happened. And now, every time I replayed it, my palms went damp on the steering wheel. I just messaged her after reaching home. Although she didn't reply to anything.

The next day, it was the final hearing of one of my important cases, so I wasn't able to talk to her the whole time, just messaged her during the break time that we would meet after four in the evening.

The day was on my side, and I won the case. I was in a hurry because it was already five, and I was still here; she might be waiting for me, and while exiting the court, the lady whose husband was the culprit came to me. She was full of rage, well, she must be. She started exploding with her anger at me, just in front of the court, because she was a lady, I couldn't do much than avoid her. But she was not ready to let go, and soon she started physical attacks. A few colleagues of mine tried to meddle, but because she was a lady, no one dared to touch her. While she was busy throwing words at me, someone from behind grabbed her by her hair, and she suddenly stopped in her tracks because of sudden pain. 

I froze when I saw who it was.

"Ama?"She stood there in her pale-blue sweater, phone still clutched in one hand, the other locked in the woman's hair like she'd been born to do this.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Ama said sweetly, her voice sugar over steel, "but if you want to throw a tantrum, maybe pick someone who isn't already late for an important date."

The woman yelped and twisted. "Who are you?"

"The person whose coffee is getting cold because you decided to audition for a courtroom drama," Ama shot back. "Also, the person who'll happily escort you to the nearest police station if you don't step back. Your choice."

My colleagues just stood there, mouths open.

The lady tried to grab Ama's hair with her other hand, but I stopped her instinctively, letting her resolve her issue without touching my girl.I finally found my voice. "Ama—hey—easy."

She didn't even glance at me. "Easy? This lady just tried to turn you into a punching bag. I'm not here for easy."

The woman finally pulled free, muttering curses as she stumbled away toward the parking lot. Ama was still somehow angry. "Well, that was fun," she said flatly. "Do all your cases end with live entertainment, or am I just lucky?"

I blinked. "You—you grabbed her by the hair."

She arched a brow. "And it worked, didn't it? You're welcome, counselor."

The corner of my mouth betrayed me with a smile. "You know, there were about six lawyers here who could have—"

"Six lawyers who were all apparently allergic to doing something useful," she cut in. "You looked like you needed a rescue. I provided one. End of story."

I shook my head, still half in shock. "You are unbelievable."

"Thank you," she said, as if I'd just complimented her cooking. Then her tone softened, just a little while looking at me, top to bottom. "Did she hurt you?"

"No," I said, and it came out warmer than I meant. "Not a scratch."

"Good." She dusted her palms on her jeans. "Because if she had, I'd be filing my own case tonight."

I laughed then—because what else could I do?—and finally reached for her hand."Let's get out of here before you scare any more of my colleagues," I said.

"Too late," she replied, eyes sparkling. "I think they're already terrified."

The restaurant's warm glow felt like a different planet after the chaos outside the courthouse. I didn't have the time to change my clothes, so here I am with my courtroom shirt. Of course, it was customised by my personal designer.Ama slid into the booth across from me, unbothered, like grabbing someone by the hair was a perfectly normal afternoon activity.

I handed her the menu, but she just smirked. "You order. Hero of the day should pick."

I raised an eyebrow. "Hero? I'm pretty sure you saved me."

"Exactly. And heroes treat their rescuers to dinner. Basic logic, counselor."

I set the menu down, leaning forward. "Do you always ambush angry strangers, or was that a special feature of today's performance?"

She propped her chin on her hand, eyes glittering. "Only when my favorite lawyer is getting mauled in public. Consider it… premium service."

I couldn't help laughing. "You know, there were six people who could've stepped in before you."

"Mm-hmm," she said, completely deadpan. "And all six of them froze like deer in headlights. Meanwhile, I was halfway through a latte and still managed to save the day. You're welcome."

The waiter arrived, and we ordered without breaking eye contact. When he left, Ama tilted her head. "Did you win?"

"Yeah," I said, a quiet pride slipping through. "Big case. Final hearing."

Her smile softened, the teasing fading into something gentler. "Of course you did."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The clatter of plates and low hum of conversations faded until it was just her—her calm after my storm.

"You didn't text me back last night," I said finally.

"I was… processing," she admitted, eyes dropping to the table. "You kissed my forehead, Vihaan. I had to, you know, replay it a few hundred times."

Heat crept up my neck. "Was that… okay?"

Her gaze snapped back to mine, a playful glint reappearing. "You really think I'd show up and body-check a stranger if it wasn't okay?"

I laughed, relief loosening the knot in my chest. "Fair point."

She reached across the table, fingers brushing mine—soft, deliberate."I'm glad you're okay," she said quietly.

I squeezed her hand, just once. "Thanks to you."

The waiter reappeared with our food, and we reluctantly let go.As we ate, the conversation drifted easily—sarcasm, small jokes, tiny sparks of something that felt like more than just a good night.

By dessert, Ama leaned back, eyes half-closed in mock exhaustion. "Next time, you're doing the rescuing. I expect equal commitment."

I grinned. "Deal. But maybe warn me before you start a street fight on my behalf."

She smirked, licking a bit of chocolate from her spoon. "No promises."

And just like that, the courtroom chaos felt a lifetime away—replaced by candlelight, laughter, and the quiet certainty that this night, this us, was exactly where I wanted to be

I watched her trace lazy circles in the melting chocolate with her spoon, a tiny furrow between her brows as she calculated something only she could see.

"What about your final exams?" I asked, remembering her offhand comment about them being close.

"It got delayed," she said, eyes still on her dessert. "So maybe after the fifteenth of January."

"Good," I said, leaning back. "Gives you room to breathe."

She hummed softly in agreement, still more interested in the swirl of chocolate than in me. I smiled, letting the pause stretch before nudging it forward."So… any plans for New Year's?"

That finally pulled her gaze up to mine. "Umm, not really. Maybe Jia would have some, but she's going with Adrian." She shrugged, a tiny sigh escaping. "I don't think I have any realistic plans."

Something about the way she said realistic made me grin. "Realistic plans are overrated anyway."

Her brow arched in mock challenge. "Oh? And you have something unrealistic in mind?"

"Maybe," I said, letting the word linger. I leaned in a little, lowering my voice just enough to make it feel like a secret. "How do you feel about a New Year's Eve that's a little… different? A little India different?"

Her spoon froze midair, eyes widening just enough for me to catch the flicker of surprise—and maybe a spark of excitement—before she masked it with a smile.

"India different?" she repeated, a hint of laughter in her voice.

I shrugged, feigning casual while my heart thumped like a drum. "My grandparents would love to meet you. They live in Rajasthan. It's… kind of our family's small get together, you will meet a lot of my maternal relatives."

Ama tilted her head, eyes narrowing playfully. "That sounds dangerously close to introducing me to the family, counselor."

I met her gaze steadily, a small, nervous smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah. That's exactly what it is."

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink, but she didn't look away. Instead, she set her spoon down and rested her chin on her hand. "Well," she said, a tiny spark dancing in her eyes, "unrealistic might actually sound… perfect."

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