The Deepavali event had long since wound down. The guests had left, the music had faded, and now only the quiet rustling of the clean-up crew remained. The soft glow of the pastel lights still illuminated the venue, casting a calm, serene atmosphere over the space that had been bustling just hours earlier.

Lathika stood near the entrance, her eyes scanning the venue with a practiced gaze. She wanted to make sure everything was in order before leaving—no damage to the property, no equipment left behind. Every detail mattered to her, and even though the event had been a success, she wasn't the type to leave things unfinished.

Prashanth, leaning against one of the large decorative pillars, checked his watch for what felt like the tenth time. He was tired, his body aching from the long day, and all he could think about was getting home and collapsing into bed. Yet, despite his desire to leave, he stayed.

"Why don't you just go home?" Lathika asked, sensing his restlessness as she continued overseeing the crew. "You don't have to stay. I'll be fine."

Prashanth shook his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "No way. It's late, and I'm not letting you stay here alone. I'll wait."

Lathika glanced at him, surprised by his concern but also a little touched. "You really don't have to. I'm used to this."

Prashanth shrugged, trying to play it off as casually as possible. "Maybe. But it's past midnight, and you shouldn't be here by yourself. Just wrap it up quickly."

Lathika smiled faintly, "Thanks." She was grateful but too tired to argue. She wouldn't lie having Prashanth around felt better in a way.

As she went about her final checks, Prashanth's mind wandered back to the conversation he had overheard between Lathika and Tara earlier. He hadn't asked Lathika about it, hadn't pried into the obvious tension between her and the woman who had shown up uninvited. But the way Lathika had handled herself—calm on the outside, despite the controlled fury within—had left an impression on him. He could tell Tara had struck a nerve, but he wasn't one to dig into matters that weren't his to address. Not yet, anyway.

His thoughts drifted in and out, replaying the evening's events, until finally, Lathika approached him. "Everything's good. We can go now."

Prashanth exhaled in relief, pushing himself off the pillar. "About time."

They walked out of the venue together, the night air cool and still around them as they made their way to their cars. The city had quieted, and the soft glow of streetlights flickered in the distance.

"Drive safe," Lathika said as she unlocked her car, her voice gentle with exhaustion.

"You too," Prashanth replied, watching her for a moment longer before getting into his own car.

As they both drove off, the night felt oddly serene, the events of the evening slowly fading behind them. A mark for a successful accomplishment.

When Lathika pulled into her driveway, the tiredness of the evening finally settling in. The lights in the house were dimmed, but as she quietly opened the door, she saw the familiar figure of her grandmother sitting in her usual chair, waiting.

"Achi, you're still awake?" Lathika asked, surprised but not entirely.

Jaimathi smiled warmly her eyes filled with a knowing tenderness. "I was waiting for you, ma. I knew you'd stay late. All good?"

Lathika smiled, appreciating her grandmother's attentiveness. "Everything's in order. No damages, no issues."

Jaimathi stood and walked over to her, gently patting her cheek. "You did an exceptional job. Both of you. I'm proud of you, Lathika."

The warmth in her grandmother's words washed over her, soothing the exhaustion in her bones. Lathika leaned into the embrace, feeling the weight of the day slowly lift from her shoulders.

"Now, you should get some rest," Jaimathi said softly, guiding Lathika towards her room. "You've worked hard, and tomorrow is another day."

✈✈✈✈

As Lathika stepped through the grand entrance of the Meenakshi Temple, she was immediately struck by its centuries-old beauty. No matter the number of visits, she always gets mesmerised by the structure. The towering gopurams, adorned with intricate carvings of gods, goddesses, and mythological beings, loomed above her, standing as a testament to the temple's ancient history. The statues, weathered by time yet still vibrant, gave the temple an aura of timelessness. The air here was different—cooler, quieter, as though the temple itself hushed the bustling world outside its walls.

Inside, the tranquillity of the temple washed over her. The stone corridors, worn smooth by generations of devotees, seemed to carry whispers of prayers from the past. The faint scent of sandalwood and jasmine lingered in the air, mixed with the light smoke from the flickering oil lamps that lined the altars. Despite the number of people moving through the temple, there was a calming silence—a serenity that seemed to embrace Lathika the moment she entered.

She approached the shrine of Goddess Meenakshi, her heart feeling lighter with each step. The goddess, adorned in resplendent silks and flowers, looked down upon her with a benevolent gaze. As Lathika closed her eyes and bowed her head in prayer, the worries of the previous day began to melt away. The tension that Tara's unexpected visit had brought seemed distant now, as if the temple itself was soothing the turmoil in her heart.

After receiving the blessings of the goddess, Lathika found a quiet spot near one of the temple's tall, ancient pillars. She leaned against the cool stone, closing her eyes for a moment. The steady rhythm of devotees passing by created a gentle hum in the background, but here, in this moment, she felt at peace. But her thoughts drifted back to Tara, the bitter encounter replaying in her mind.

Had Tara always been this way? Lathika wondered. Or had something changed in her former assistant to make her so ruthless? The Tara she remembered—ambitious but kind—seemed like a distant memory. But yesterday's encounter left her no doubt that the Tara she once knew was gone, replaced by someone far colder and more calculated.

As she opened her eyes, the calmness of the temple steadied her. Watching the flow of devotees moving past her, Lathika allowed herself to breathe deeply, the weight of the previous day's tension lifting just a little more.

A familiar voice broke her thoughts.

"Lathika?"

She looked up, surprised to see Prashanth standing a few feet away, his expression as unreadable as ever. Of all the places she expected to see him, the temple wasn't one of them. He wasn't the type to seek solace in places like this, but here he was.

"Prashanth," Lathika greeted him with warmth, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Neither did I," he said, his tone lighter than usual as he approached. "My grandmother insisted I come. Said I needed to seek blessings."

Lathika chuckled softly. "Seems like our grandmothers have similar ideas."

After Prashanth finished his prayers, he joined her near the pillar. The temple was quiet around them, the peaceful atmosphere wrapping them in a rare moment of calm.

"Did you get a good rest after last night?" Prashanth asked, leaning against the pillar beside her.

Lathika nodded, letting out a soft sigh. "I did. The event went well—better than I expected."

"Yeah, I guess we didn't kill each other," Prashanth teased lightly. "Good job, though. It turned out great."

Lathika smiled, appreciating the unexpected compliment. "Same to you. We managed to pull it off somehow."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, both watching the steady flow of devotees pass by. The sun filtered gently through the temple's stone archways, casting soft shadows on the ground. The temple's ancient walls seemed to hold centuries of wisdom, offering both of them a rare moment of introspection.

Prashanth hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly as if weighing whether to speak. Eventually, he broke the silence. "Can I ask you something?"

Lathika glanced at him, sensing his reluctance. "Sure."

He cleared his throat. "That woman yesterday—Tara. What's her deal?"

Lathika's breath caught for a moment, the tension returning as she thought back to the confrontation. She had known this question would come eventually, but now that it was here, she wasn't sure how much she wanted to reveal. Still, something about the calm of the temple, the peaceful atmosphere, made her feel like she could open up—at least a little.

"Tara used to be my assistant," Lathika began quietly, her fingers tracing the smooth stone of the pillar. "I trusted her. Gave her opportunities, taught her everything I knew. But... she betrayed me. She went behind my back and stole my clients—some of my biggest projects."

Prashanth nodded slowly, processing her words. "That explains why you were so tense around her."

Lathika let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah. She's ambitious, I'll give her that. But I never thought she'd go so far. Yesterday just... it hit me hard."

She paused for a moment, staring ahead at the passing devotees, her voice softening with uncertainty. "Maybe she's right," Lathika said, almost to herself. "Maybe my ideas are outdated. I've been so focused on doing things the way I've always done them, but times are changing. I even avoided some of your ideas because they felt too modern, too sleek... maybe I was just not seeing things in different perspective."

Prashanth frowned, turning his gaze fully to her. "What are you saying?"

Lathika sighed, leaning back against the pillar. "I guess I need to rethink things. Maybe I've been stuck in the past, and Tara saw that before I did. Maybe that's why I lost those clients."

The vulnerability in her voice was new to Prashanth. He had seen Lathika as strong, determined, unwavering in her convictions. Seeing her doubt herself now made him pause.

"No," Prashanth said firmly, shaking his head. "Look, I'm all for innovation and pushing boundaries, but you can't let someone like Tara make you question your worth. You didn't lose those clients because you're outdated. You lost them because she went behind your back. There's a difference."

Lathika glanced at him, surprised by the intensity of his words.

"You're smart, Lathika. You've built something solid. Come to think of it, if your ideas were truly outdated, you wouldn't be hired in the first place. It's not that in the entire Chennai everyone has on Lathika as the event planner and they have no choice but to hire you. You have your speciality, okay. Tara didn't take those projects because she's better than you—she took them because she saw an easy way to cut you down."

Lathika's eyes softened, the self-doubt slowly receding. "I guess you're right."

Prashanth shrugged, his tone softening as well. "Just don't be too hard on yourself. You've got the skill, the experience. You'll find your way."

Lathika smiled, grateful for his words. She hadn't expected Prashanth to be the one to lift her spirits today, but his unexpected kindness had helped ease the weight she'd been carrying.

"Thanks, Prashanth," she said quietly. "That means a lot."

❉❉❉❉❉

A little kindness wouldn't harm, isn't it? 

Hope you enjoyed the chapter :)