Page 9 of No Boss
Abhinav felt the tightness move through his throat before he could stop it.
He closed his eyes. Breathed slowly. Pressed it down the way he always did. Patient. Practiced. Until it receded to somewhere manageable.
That little boy was gone. That father was gone. That game was over.
He closed the laptop. Looked at the floor plan. At the brass key sitting beside it.
He picked up his phone and called Kishore.
“I need the best heritage property dealer in Jaipur. Get me names by tomorrow morning.”
“Okay, Boss.”
He ended the call.
???
The next morning, everyone was around the dining table. The last morning before Mahesh and his family flew back to Udaipur.
Abhinav waited until everyone had tea in front of them. “I’ve decided to sell Anand Mahal.”
Breaths held. Forks went still. Cups remained suspended halfway to mouths. Every face turned toward him with the identical expressions.
Mahesh set his cup down on the saucer very carefully. The small sound of porcelain on porcelain was the loudest thing in the room.
“You accepted that pagdi yesterday.” His voice stayed low, held tight, as if every word had been forced into place before it could slip.
“I accepted the responsibility of making the right decision for what I’ve inherited,” Abhinav replied. “This is it.”
“Selling your ancestral home is the right decision?”
“Ensuring it survives properly is the right decision. I live in Dubai. I run businesses across three continents. I haven’t set foot in that Haveli in twenty-eight years. An absent owner helps no one.”
“Then go back.” Mahesh’s hand came down on the table. The dishes rattled. “See it before you decide. Walk those rooms. Understand what you are giving away. Then decide.”
“Visiting won’t change the reality. Someone with proper resources will maintain it better than any arrangement I can make from overseas.”
“You think strangers will care for it the way family cares?”
Abhinav looked at his uncle. He said the next words quietly, without cruelty, but without softening them either. “Chacha ji. How many years has it been since you were last there.”
The table went very still.
Mahesh did not answer.
“We are both absent owners,” Abhinav went on. “The Haveli has survived on the loyalty of its staff for decades. That is not family care. That is borrowed time.” He placed his cup down. “If you had been the elder son, if the pagdi had passed to you, would you have moved back?”
Mahesh’s jaw set. His face tightened for a beat, then gave way to a quiet, aching longing he had no place to put.
“That is not the custom,” he responded. “The elder son inherits. I had no right to…”
“I’m not blaming you.” Abhinav shook his head. “I’m saying we stand in the same place. We both built lives elsewhere. We both stayed away. The difference is I am willing to face what that means for the Haveli instead of asking it to keep waiting.”
“I would have gone back,” Mahesh’s words came out low. Almost to himself. “If it had been mine to go back to. I would have.”His gaze lifted to Abhinav. “You don’t know that. You can’t know that. But I would have.”
The rawness held.
Abhinav let it stand.
