Chapter 3

Avni's POV 

 

Do you have a child?” he asked softly.

 

“No! No!” I snapped, my usually pale cheeks flushing crimson as I turned my head away from him. When I mustered the next words, my voice had dropped to a trembling whisper, “No, I’m not.”

 

How I had longed, in secret moments, to be pregnant—but I wasn’t. A solitary tear escaped, trailing down my cheek.

 

“Forgive me, please. I’m sorry—I meant no distress,” he said, his tone not one of shock but of genuine regret for having upset me.

 

I forced a small smile. “It’s all right. I suppose anyone might have assumed that. It was natural, I guess.”

 

“You like kids, don’t you?” he asked with a warm smile.

 

“Yes, I do,” I replied, feeling a gentle lightness as I recalled the pure sweetness of little ones. “They’re so sweet and pure at heart.”

 

“I figured as much—that’s why you work here, isn’t it?” he said, and I merely nodded.

 

There was an ease in our conversation that surprised me; talking to him felt unexpectedly comforting, as though his eyes held a spark of understanding. Then, after a thoughtful pause, he leaned in slightly and said, “I wonder… and I hope you won’t mind me asking—could you help me?”

 

“Help you? But how?” I inquired, curiosity and caution mingling in my voice.

 

He hesitated for a moment. “Actually… um, you know my sister Samantha, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah,” I replied, already sensing where this might lead.

 

“She has two children—Bill and Lara. I need you to help me raise them.”

 

My heart skipped. “What? But why?”

 

“Sam went through a terrible marriage,” he explained, his voice laden with concern. “She fell into deep depression and couldn’t cope. When I learned of it, I intervened. She’s in the midst of a bitter divorce, and it’s affecting the kids terribly. With the court’s special permission, I became their legal guardian until the final verdict came.”

 

I absorbed his words slowly. “Okay…I understand.”

 

He continued, “I own a large farmhouse in Ranikhet, near the golf course, where the kids are staying. I want you to go live with them.”

 

I blinked in surprise. “You don’t live with your parents in Nainital?”

 

“No,” he said lightly. “I’m 29—I can’t live with my parents. I wanted a place of my own. What’s so surprising?”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry… I was just a bit taken aback.”

 

“So, what do you think about it?” he asked, his tone gentle but earnest.

 

I hesitated. “But I can’t go to Ranikhet,” I murmured.

 

“Is it too remote for you?” he prodded.

 

“No—not at all. In fact, I adore places like that; their remoteness has a calming, soothing effect on the mind.”

 

His smile widened. “That’s great! Then what’s the matter?”

 

I sighed, uncertain. “I don’t know…I suppose you could always hire another governess.”

 

His eyes locked onto mine, and he said firmly, “I don’t want any other woman. I want you.”

 

I nearly shivered at the intensity in his gaze. “But why me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

 

“Why not you?” he countered. “You’re professionally qualified to care for children—I remember you did your Master’s in child development and care. I’d also love for them to learn Hindi, since we’re in India; it would be wonderful for them.”

 

I tried to protest, “Yeah, but…”

 

“Moreover,” he said, “you love kids, and you’re so comfortable around them.”

 

“But still…” I began.

 

“Most importantly, you are their aunt, being married to their maternal uncle. They’re as much your responsibility as they are mine. They’re your family, after all.”

 

His words left me speechless for a moment, caught between duty and my own hesitations.

 

“But…” I began.

 

“Please,” he implored softly, “they need you. And you can do at least that much for us—for John…can’t you?”

 

I was taken aback by his reference to John, and my eyes darted around, grateful that we were alone. “But I can’t leave my father behind,” I whispered.

 

“Why not? Your father is an adult—he can manage himself. But those kids…they can’t. Please, help me raise them.”

 

“But they have you…” I countered.

 

He shook his head. “I work in other cities during the week, so I can only be with them on weekends. During the weekdays, the whole place is yours.”

 

Curiosity tinged my tone. “And what do you do exactly?”

 

He smiled, a hint of pride in his voice. “I’m the CEO of Green Foods Limited—a multinational company dealing in organic food products worldwide.”

 

I nodded slowly. “Oh, okay…I understand, but…”

 

He cut me off gently. “It’s a beautiful place, Avni. I promise, you’ll fall in love with it.”

 

“I’m sure I will. But…” I trailed off, conflicted.

 

“Please, don’t say no,” he urged, his voice soft yet insistent. “I can’t trust the kids with a stranger.”

 

I sighed. “But I’d be a stranger to them too.”

 

“No,” he said quickly. “You’re family. You haven’t met them yet, but they’re so cute—I find myself loving them already. And believe me, I’m not even very fond of kids. I know you’ll love it there. Just please, give it a try.”

 

“Sir…” I began.

 

“Robert—please, call me Robert,” he corrected, his eyes warm and sincere.

 

I hesitated, then said, “I… I really do love my job here.”

 

“I’ll offer you a handsome salary—many times what you earn now. How does 50 thousand per month sound? And lodging and boarding are included. The farmhouse is stunning, with its own stable for a couple of horses and even a swimming pool.”

 

I faltered. “But my father…he’s all alone. My mom is gone, and my sister is married.”

 

He sighed gently. “You can’t stay with him forever. Weren’t you planning to leave him when you married John?”

 

“Yes… but now I don’t have to.”

 

He pressed on, “Oh, come on. One day, you’ll have to venture out. Surely, someday you’ll marry someone.”

 

“No, I won’t marry again,” I said firmly.

 

“But why?” he asked, a note of concern in his voice. “You’re so young.”

 

“Simple,” I replied bitterly, “because I’m already married.”

 

“No, you’re not. Your husband is no more…” he murmured, and I felt tears welling up, threatening to spill.

 

“It doesn’t matter. I won’t marry again.” I thought bitterly—sometimes I wished I hadn’t married him at all.

 

“Do you love him so much?” he asked quietly. “He was really lucky to have your love.”

 

“Lucky? You call him lucky?” I whispered, my voice cracking. “He died just after marrying me.”

 

“Please, don’t say that,” he said softly. “I was in ther at that time. I remember how my mom called me urgently that day—John had been on his way home to introduce someone. My parents were so excited, expecting to meet their future daughter-in-law.”

 

" Really?” I asked, my voice trembling.

 

“Yes, they did. They even wanted me to come along to meet both of you. But I was in Mumbai and couldn’t make it.”

 

“That’s why we never met,” I murmured, nodding silently.

 

“We were all shocked to learn you were getting married,” he continued gently.

 

“Actually…I’m sorry,” I blurted, then stopped, choking on my words. I fought hard not to break down in front of him—after all, he was family, connected to John in ways I still couldn’t reconcile. I clutched my heart, desperate to regain control, and Robert waited silently, his eyes full of quiet understanding.

 

When I finally steadied myself, he wisely shifted the topic. “So, will you please help me with the kids? They truly need you—a woman’s influence. I rarely stay there during the week.”

 

“Trust me, I want to. But…” I began.

 

“You don’t want to live in Ranikhet?” he asked.

 

“Oh, no—not at all. In fact, I think I might like it. But I can’t leave my father here.”

 

“Avni,” he said softly, “you can’t spend your whole life like this. Think of the kids—they need you more than your father does. They’re your family too. We’ve already lost John. Please, say yes to him.”

 

I swallowed hard. “I need time to think about it. It’s such a big decision—I need to weigh all the pros and cons.”

 

Then, unexpectedly, he asked, “Could you take me to that riding club where John worked? I want to see the place where the two of you met and fell in love.”

 

I hesitated. “Um… I haven’t ridden since John died. I just… couldn’t go there anymore.”

 

“Then don’t you think it’s high time you start again?” he said, his tone gentle yet insistent.

 

In that moment, I realized his words weren’t merely about a job or a place—they were about reclaiming a piece of my past, a chance to heal and perhaps to live again. And as his earnest eyes searched mine, I knew that whatever decision I made, nothing would ever be the same again.