Page 48 of The Redemption
He smiles, but I step forward anyway, holding the side rail of the buggy steady so he can get in comfortably. Just then, another hand reaches out. Raghav.
He steps in at the exact moment, probably not trusting that I’ll take care of it. For a second, our hands brush against each other over the metal bar.
It shouldn’t feel like anything. It’s just a touch. But it lingers enough to make me aware of it, especially when he looks at me with those intense eyes. It’s like he’s surprised by my protectiveness towards Uncle as I help him into the buggy.
“I’ll take it from here,” he says firmly.
I let out a quiet breath but don’t move. “I’m already handling it.”
His gaze doesn’t flicker. “I can see that.”
“Then you should also be able to see that he’s fine,” I add.
For a split second, his jaw tightens. It’s subtle, but I see it.
“What happened?” Uncle asks the moment he settles in. “Both of you are acting like I’m about to fall off a cliff,” he mutters. “Raghav, I’m fine. Siya is taking such good care of me. Stop being so hard on her.”
Neither of us responds because neither of us is looking at him. Raghav’s eyes remain locked on mine, and I don’t look away either. I pull my hand back first and get inside, taking the seat beside Uncle.
Only then does Raghav step back. Instead of joining us, he turns to the driver and gives a few instructions. Of course, he doesn’t sit with us. He follows us in another buggy, close enough to keep watch.
The ride moves slowly through the vineyard, and Uncle points out various sections as we pass, explaining how each area is maintained differently depending on the grape variety. Soon, we stop near another part of the estate where a staff member is waiting to take us inside the processing unit.
As the buggy comes to a halt, Uncle begins to step down. Once again, both Raghav and I reach out at the exact same moment.
Our hands almost meet again, but this time Raghav withdraws his hand without a word as soon as he sees my fingers close around Uncle’s arm. I steady Uncle as he steps down, making sure his feet are firmly on the ground before letting go.
My actions surprise me, even though they feel familiar. I never had to hold or support Dad like this. He was always physically strong, always the one holding everything together. Yet the instinct to stay close to him, to be aware, to look out for him without being asked had always been there. Now, a year after losing him, that same protectiveness rises in me again for Kailash Uncle. I feel that same pull, that same unspoken urge to be there and take care of him without being told.
We head inside, and the temperature drops slightly. Uncle continues to show me around, explaining each stage of the process as we move ahead. Just then, Raghav walks in and drapes a shawl around his shoulders.
“You forgot this in the buggy,” he says, adjusting it properly. “It’s colder inside. Wear it.”
Uncle smiles, his hand coming up to pat Raghav’s arm before he settles the shawl around himself. I observe the ease between them once again. This time, though, Raghav doesn’t stay for long. He turns and heads towards Haider and the staff, then starts speaking to them.
We move further inside, and just as Uncle is about to show me another section, a young woman walks towards us from the other end of the room. She appears to be around my age andis wearing in a well-fitted beige wool coat over a dark turtleneck, paired with straight trousers and ankle boots. She’s beautiful in a casual, effortless way.
“Kriti,” Uncle calls out, a wide smile spreading across his face.
“Hello, Uncle,” she greets him respectfully. “It’s so nice to see you here again. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing perfectly alright,” he replies. Then Kriti’s eyes shift to me with curiosity.
“This is Siya,” Uncle introduces me. “One of our special guests.”
“I’m sure she is to get a private tour like this,” Kriti responds, her gaze settling on me for a beat longer than necessary. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have stepped in to show her the vineyard yourself.”
There’s something in the way she says it that doesn’t sit right with me. The words seem harmless enough, but I can sense a dislike in her tone. Still, when she gives me a polite smile and says, ‘Hi’, I return the greeting.
“Siya,” Uncle continues, “this is Kriti, the sommelier at RK estate. Our in-house wine expert.”
He gestures towards her with pride.
“She understands wines inside and out, from how the grapes are grown to how each batch is aged and stored. When guests visit, she’s the one who guides them through tastings, helping them understand the flavours, the aromas, the textures, without making it feel complicated. Even someone trying wine for the first time can enjoy it the way it’s meant to be.”
Kriti smiles politely as he goes on.
I simply nod as Uncle keeps praising her. “Her father, Mishraji, handles all the accounts here. He’s been our chartered accountant for years and is one of the most trusted people we have.”
