Chapter 24: Learning to Trust Again

By evening, the kids came downstairs freshly dressed, hair neatly combed, faces relaxed after a long day. They gathered around the table for snacks, their chatter filling the room again.

Veeresh leaned back slightly and said, almost casually, “Poornima… coffee?”

She smiled—this time without hesitation—and went to the kitchen. She prepared it the way he liked and placed the cup in front of him. He nodded in thanks, watching her for a moment longer than necessary.

The kids finished their snacks one by one and soon drifted upstairs with their books, complaining lightly about homework but already planning how fast they’d finish.

All—except Rudraksh.

Poornima noticed immediately.

“Rudy,” she called gently, “come here. You didn’t eat properly. Even your dabba wasn’t empty today. What happened?”

Rudraksh looked away.
“Nothing.”

Veeresh set his cup down.
“What happened, Rudra? Mumma is asking you. Answer her.”

Rudraksh’s fingers curled into his sleeves. He looked tense, trapped between fear and honesty.

Poornima walked closer, took his small hand in hers, and bent to his level.

“Rudy,” she said softly, “what happened?”

His voice came out small.
“I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” she asked.

“Whether… whether you put chilli.”

Her heart clenched, but she didn’t show it.

“No, Rudy,” she said calmly. “I didn’t.”

She smiled and added, “Come with me.”

She guided him to the chair, made him sit comfortably, and picked up the plate.

“Let me feed you,” she said gently.

She took a small bite and offered it to him.
“Is it spicy?”

Rudraksh tasted it carefully, then shook his head.

“No.”

“Then what happened?” she asked softly.

He stayed silent for a moment.

Poornima rubbed his palm slowly, reassuringly, the way one does when words are hard.

Finally, he whispered, “Mom used to put chilli… or chilli powder too much. Once I got stomach upset. I couldn’t bear it.”

Veeresh froze.

The memory clicked into place—suddenly, painfully clear.

He looked at his son, guilt flooding his face.

“So that’s why,” Veeresh said quietly, kneeling a little. “That’s why you never took dabba to school. Why you always said you’d eat there.”

Rudraksh didn’t answer. He just looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” Veeresh said, voice thick. “I understand now why you never told Appa anything.”

He placed a gentle hand on Rudraksh’s shoulder.

“Mumma will not do like that,” he said firmly.

Poornima nodded.
“You can trust me, Rudy.”

Rudraksh studied her face for a second longer—then smiled.

“Alright.”

Poornima leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

This time, Rudraksh ate his snacks happily—without fear, without hesitation.

And Veeresh watched, knowing that something fragile had just begun to heal.