Unconditional Love

90. The Home He Built

It had been eight days since everything happened.

Rahul bhai had been discharged from the hospital three days ago, and without a second thought, Virat had insisted—no, ordered—that he move into his apartment for recovery. 

Aman had backed him up like an overenthusiastic deputy, and somehow, between the two of them, they'd managed to turn the once calm, orderly home into a protective fortress with strict schedules and zero room for negotiation.

"Medicine, bhai," Aman would remind him, even when Rahul bhai was already holding the glass of water and pill.

"And don't think about work," Virat would add from his usual perch at the edge of the couch, skimming through his tablet. "I changed the password to your email."

"You what?" Rahul had spluttered that first day. 

Aman and Virat had exchanged smug glances and high-fived like they'd just won a trophy.

Meanwhile, Rohit and Jassi had quietly spared him. 

They stayed in the background, offering silent support, warm smiles, and those little reassurances Rahul bhai didn't realize he needed until they were there. 

Jassi would often set out his favorite snacks without a word, and Rohit made sure his tea was always at the perfect temperature, exactly how he liked it. 

They didn't hover—they grounded.

And now, back in the present, they were all gathered in Rahul bhai's room for evening tea. 

The air smelled faintly of cardamom and ginger from the chai Jassi had brewed.

Rahul bhai sat propped against cushions, his hands wrapped around the warm tea cup. 

Aman sat beside him, closer than usual, almost protectively. 

Jassi was curled up in the chair by the window with his own cup, and Rohit leaned casually against Virat, their shoulders pressed together on the small couch.

It was quiet, peaceful.

Aman broke the silence after a while. His voice was soft, unsure, like he was peeling away at something fragile. 

"What if I don't remember the old memories?" he asked, not quite looking at Rahul bhai.

Rahul bhai turned to him slowly, his expression gentle. 

There was no disappointment in his eyes—only warmth. He reached out and ruffled Aman's hair, making him lean closer into the warmth.

"We'll make new ones," Rahul bhai said softly, smiling. "The old ones... they'll come back when they want to. And if they don't, we'll just fill your head with better ones."

Aman stared at him for a second, his lips twitching like he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. "Like you bossing me around all day?" he mumbled.

"That's Virat," Rahul bhai chuckled.

"Hey!" Virat protested from the couch. Rohit elbowed him, and Virat rolled his eyes, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

Jassi's voice was quiet but teasing. "I've seen Rahul sir-- I mean Rahul bhai order Virat bhai around so much, last time when they visited Delhi office"

Rahul laughed, and Virat groaned. "Why do we need flashbacks, again?" he asked.

Rohit smirked. "I guess Because you were a brat back then."

"And now?" Virat raised a brow.

Rohit sipped his tea slowly. "Now you're a bigger brat. But a lovable one."