SIDDH

Though I was not very confident about Sagarika's presentation as she is never serious and I was sure she was going to do something stupid as usual, she pulled it off very well surprisingly.

In fact, to be fair, it was perfect... Not a single mistake, no fumble, no hesitation at all. It would not be wrong if I say that she was more confident than I, though I never saw her practice her paper.

Her confidence was remarkable... Though I think that she gets overconfident sometimes.

*********

By the time our five-day seminar in Pahalgam ended and we stepped outside, the cold had deepened into something far more deliberate, cutting through layers with a persistence that demanded attention.

The team had already gathered near the vehicles, conversations overlapping as everyone prepared to leave. Their focus had shifted almost instantly toward warmth, rest, and the long journey back to the airport, and then to Delhi. There was no hesitation in their movements, no reluctance in their decisions. After five exhausting days, everyone wanted to go back.

I checked my watch and spoke without raising my voice. “We leave in ten minutes.”

No one argued.

“I cannot feel my fingers anymore,” someone muttered, flexing his hands in discomfort.

“Same here,” another added, pulling his jacket tighter as if it might somehow shield him from the cold that had already settled into his bones.

There was a quiet urgency in the air, the kind that comes when discomfort stops being tolerable and starts becoming unavoidable.

Everyone wanted to leave.

Everyone except—

Sagarika.

She stood a short distance away from the group, completely detached from the movement around her, her attention fixed entirely on the mountains. It was as though the rest of us had simply ceased to exist. There was something unguarded in the way she looked at them, something almost childlike in its quiet absorption, and for a brief moment, I found myself watching her instead of doing what I was supposed to be doing.

Then I exhaled slowly and walked toward her.

“We are leaving,” I said.

“I’m not,” she replied, without turning.

For a moment, I thought I had misheard her. The words had been delivered so calmly, so casually, that they did not immediately register as defiance.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m staying,” she repeated, as if clarifying something obvious.

I turned fully toward her now. “No, you are not.”

She finally looked at me, and there was not the slightest hint of hesitation in her expression. “Yes, I am.”

“This is not optional.”

“It is for me.”

There was no uncertainty in her tone, no attempt to soften the refusal, and that, more than anything else, tested my patience.

“I want to explore,” she continued, as though she were explaining something entirely reasonable. “Trek a little, see the place, maybe visit nearby villages. I did not come all the way here just to sit in a hall for five days and leave without seeing anything.”

“This is not a tourist trip.”

“It can be,” she replied calmly. “For two days.”

“In this temperature?”

“I have jackets.”

I looked at her steadily. “You have absolutely no survival instincts.”

She laughed, as though I had made an amusing observation instead of a serious one.

“Relax,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

“You won’t be,” I replied, my tone coming out sharper than before.

She crossed her arms, her expression shifting just enough to reflect the challenge beneath her calm. “You’re not my father.”

“You cannot stay here alone,” I replied like a strict teacher.

“I can manage.”

“You cannot,” I repeated, feeling my patience thin in a way I did not appreciate.

“Dr. Siddh, you are not in charge of my life.”

“No,” I said evenly, “but I am responsible for you.”

“I did not assign you that responsibility,” she argued.

“Being your senior, I already have it.”

She stepped closer then, lowering her voice, not out of hesitation but out of deliberate intent.

“Don’t,” she said quietly. “Go back with the team. You have responsibilities toward them as well. Take them safely. I’ll come back in two days.”

I held her gaze, already aware that logic was no longer going to resolve this.

So I reached for my phone.

Her reaction was immediate. “What are you doing?”

“Calling your parents.”

“You would not dare.” she glared at me,

I had already dialed.

Her dad, Sagar uncle, said almost immediately, as soon as the call was connected,. "Siddh! Yes, beta? How was your seminar?"

“Uncle,” I said my tone calm and controlled, “we’ve completed the seminar. However, Sagarika has decided she would like to stay back here alone for sightseeing.”

I did not need to look at her to know exactly what expression she was wearing.

The pause on the other end was brief.

Then her father laughed. Laughed??

“Oh… she did, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“I’m really sorry, Siddh. You know how she is.”

“Unfortunately, I do.” I was shocked at his response as well. But maybe he has given up on her already.

“She would not listen to me either if she had already decided it,” he continued. “She is just like her mother. Could you stay with her for a couple of days?”

I closed my eyes briefly, because that was not the outcome I had intended.

“Uncle, maybe Damini aunty can—”

“Sherry won’t listen to any of us,” he interrupted. “But she might listen to you.”

That was highly optimistic of him to even imagine that.

“That is unlikely,” I replied.

“Beta, please. You know how adventurous she is. But it is risky, so I would really be very thankful if you could stay there to keep an eye on her. We can trust her with you.”

And that—

That was precisely the problem.

After a moment, I said, “Okay, Uncle, I will stay.”

“Thank you,” he said with clear relief. “And… I apologize in advance.”

The call ended.

When I lowered the phone, the silence between us lingered just long enough to register.

"What made you call my dad?"

“I had to... You are impossible, I attempted a reasonable solution. Your parents disagreed.”

“You had no right.”

“I had every right to ensure your safety.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Good,” I replied, meeting her gaze evenly, “because I don’t have the patience to be one.”

We stood there, facing each other, neither willing to step back.

Then something shifted.

Her expression softened, but not into surrender.

It turned into something far more deliberate.

A slow smile, controlled and unmistakably dangerous.

“Fine,” she said lightly.

I did not like that tone. It carried intention.

“Let’s see,” she continued, her eyes gleaming with mischief she was not even trying to hide, “how long you last.”

Something tightened in my chest, sharp and unwelcome, because for the first time since this situation began, I was no longer entirely certain that I was in control of it.

I had agreed to stay back in one of the most unpredictable regions I had ever worked in.

With the most unpredictable woman I had ever met.

And I had the distinct feeling that whatever came next had very little to do with the mountains, and everything to do with her.

This was not going to be simple.

And it was definitely not going to be under my control.