EPILOGUE
SIMRAN
Six Months Later – Alibaug Farm House
The Alibaug farmhouse buzzes with joy and celebration. We’re celebrating Vishnu’s 35th birthday today. Life has a strange way of coming full circle. My mind drifts to Veer’s first birthday, just six months ago. Papa had originally planned to celebrate it here in Alibaug, but things didn’t quite go as expected. The memories were still too raw. Just two weeks before the planned celebration, this very farmhouse had been the site of Papa’s abduction. Even though he returned safely that same day, none of us were ready to come back to this place for such a happy occasion. Instead, we held the celebration at Walia Mansion, where Papa went all out—turning the house into a magical wonderland for his grandson.
I smile, thinking of how different Papa is with Veer. My serious, politically powerful father-in-law turns into putty in his grandson’s hands. It’s become a common sight at the mansion—Papa sitting in his home office, trying to conduct an important meeting, and Veer toddling in, demanding his grandfather’s attention. More often than not, the meetings end up being postponed, and Papa is found on the floor, playing with building blocks or reading storybooks, completely devoted to Veer.
Vishnu, my husband, has never had a birthday party like this before. He’s always been too busy taking care of everyone else to think about celebrating himself. So, when I suggested to Papa that we should organise something special this year, his eyes lit up with excitement. Papa threw himself wholeheartedly into planning this party for Vishnu. He’s been involved in everything, right from the menu to the decorations, determined to make this day unforgettable for his son.
The fact that we’re holding it here in Alibaug feels significant, like we’re reclaiming this space—transforming it from a place of fear into one of joy. And speaking of transformations, I head upstairs to check on our newest family member, Leila.
Yes. She’s here now. With us. My heart swells just thinking about how Vishnu arranged everything to bring her here from Claire’s home in New York. He understood, without me having to say a word—that having Leila with us would make Mumbai truly feel like home. Dealing with the paperwork, arranging international pet transport, and setting up a comfortable space for her at the Walia Mansion wasn’t easy—but Vishnu made it happen because he knew how much she meant to me.
And today, since the whole family is here to celebrate Vishnu’s birthday at our Alibaug farmhouse, we brought Leila along too.
But I knew she wouldn’t enjoy mingling with the crowd. Leila hates too many people around her. Unlike Veer, who thrives on all the attention, my little furball prefers her peace and quiet. That’s why we set up a cosy room for her, away from the chaos of the party, where she can lounge, eat, and play without disruption. This way, she still has me and the family around, but at a comfortable distance—exactly how she likes it.
I peek into her room, where she’s lounging regally on one of the plush couches we set up for her. Toys are scattered around, and her food and water bowls are perfectly arranged, making her stay not just comfortable, but truly luxurious—fit for a little queen.
The way she’s adapted to life in the mansion has been remarkable. What started as a new adjustment has blossomed into something beautiful—she’s truly become part of the Walia family, loved and doted on by everyone.
The warm sea breeze flows through the open French windows as I gently stroke Leila’s soft fur. Her emerald eyes flicker open for a moment, recognising my touch, before she nestles deeper into the plush cushions. I smile, watching her rest so peacefully.
It’s almost symbolic how Leila’s journey mirrors my own—from our independent lives in New York to becoming an integral part of this grand, loving family. The mansion that once seemed overwhelmingly large now feels just right, filled with love, laughter, and, yes, the occasional cat hair on expensive furniture. It’s hard to believe how much our life has changed.
Apart from resting on fluffy couches at the Walia mansion, Leila is mostly seen around Veer and Avika when they play together. She guards them like they’re her own kittens, prowling protectively around their play area, seeing to it that no one disturbs them.
I chuckle, remembering how she even follows Vishnu around, constantly rubbing against his legs whenever he’s home. Who would have thought my cat would be so smitten with my husband? Then again, who could resist Vishnu’s charm?
Regarding my business, the past six months have been a remarkable journey of success and joy. That client meeting—the one on that fateful day when Papa was abducted—ended up being a turning point for my fashion empire. Since then, my brand has been soaring to new heights, with plans to launch boutique chains across India. My New York store is thriving under capable management, allowing me the freedom to focus on the bigger decisions while balancing family life here in India.
Meanwhile, Vishnu has bought the New York apartment across from mine— the same one that his security team had been renting. Even though the threats are gone, he refuses to compromise on our safety. So now, whenever we fly to New York for my work, his team is already there beforehand to take care of my safety.
But the biggest change has been watching Vishnu step into his role as NEP party president. After months of gentle persuasion—convincing him that it was okay to focus on his own career instead of just our safety—he finally took the plunge. Now, seeing him in his element, commanding respect and implementing positive changes, my heart swells with pride. Politics runs in his blood, and it shows.
I take one last look at Leila before heading back downstairs to the party. The shimmering black saree I chose to match Vishnu’s black suit catches the light as I descend the stairs. The party is in full swing, with the sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and soft music filling the air. My father-in-law is the perfect host, ensuring every guest feels welcomed and is attended to. He looks happy and content as he stands with his friend Kailash Shergill, Ayaan’s father, holding Veer in his arms. He clings to Papa as he proudly introduces Veer again to his friends and guests.
My eyes roam around, and there he is—my husband, my rock, my everything. Vishnu looks devastatingly handsome as he chats with his party members. He commands attention with his effortless charisma and his powerful presence, still taking my breath away. He exudes confidence, the kind that makes people notice him, trust him, and follow his lead.
As if sensing my gaze, he turns around.
Our eyes meet, and in that instant, everything else blurs around us. There’s an unspoken conversation between us—a silent language we’ve mastered over time. The look in his eyes makes my heart skip a beat. Even now, after all this time, just one glance from him still makes me feel like we’re falling in love all over again.
He tilts his head slightly, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he subtly gestures for me to come to him.
I don’t make him wait.
The crowd parts as I walk towards him, their murmured compliments and approving smiles barely registering in my mind. The only thing I see is him.
As I near Vishnu, I see the way his eyes take me in, his eyes staring a moment too long at the saree he gifted me last week.
“You’re making it impossible for me to focus on these conversations,” he whispers, his hand finding the small of my back.
“Mission accomplished,” I wink, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle on his lapel.
Before we can talk further, Krish clears his throat dramatically, interrupting my moment with Vishnu.
“Alright, lovebirds. Maybe save some of that for later?” he teases.
I laugh, leaning into Vishnu as he smirks at Krish.
“What’s your problem? Did I intervene when you and Trisha didn’t get out of the car for ‘several minutes’ after parking? We all know what that delay was for.”
The flush on Krish and Trisha’s faces is priceless as Krish scrambles to explain.
“Oh please, we were looking for the invitation card that fell somewhere in the car during the drive! This is the CM’s party—we didn’t want to bypass security just because we’re your friends.”
Vishnu’s shoulders shake with silent laughter, and I feel the rumble in his chest. But before he can respond, Meher and Devika arrive with Aksh. Trisha and I immediately turn to Meher, enveloping her in a warm hug.
“You’re glowing, babes!” we both say at the same time, making Meher chuckle. There’s something different about her smile today, a secret dancing in her eyes as she glances around the room.
Vishnu looks at his sister with a knowing smile. “Ayaan’s at the front foyer,” he says with a wink, reading his sister like an open book. “He’s with Raghav, bringing him in.”
Meher’s face lights up.
“My brother knows me so well,” she says, pulling Vishnu into a birthday hug. “Happy birthday, Vishnu.”
“You really are glowing, though,” Vishnu says seriously, studying her face.
Aksh jumps in with his usual mischief.
“Not just Meher—your wife and my Devika, along with Meher, had a salon appointment today, especially for this event. Of course, they’re all glowing.”
“Stop making fun of us!” Devika playfully swats her husband’s arm. “We needed a hair spa, that’s all. And did we complain when you, Ayaan, and Vishnu have your guy’s time, chilling alone without your us?”
Aksh pulls her close. “Trust me, sweetheart, most of the time at the pub, Vishnu and I just end up talking about how fatherhood has completely changed us.”
Vishnu agrees.
“Lucky Ayaan,” Krish chuckles. “He’s getting trained by the two best people.”
Trisha’s eyes sparkle as she looks at her husband. “You better start getting these training sessions from them then...”
“Me?” Krish’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Yes, you! Otherwise, when I give birth in the future, I’ll have to parent two kids—our actual baby and their father, who throws more tantrums than any infant.”
Everyone laughs except Krish, who playfully glares at Trisha before pulling her close.
“Listen, woman. I may throw tantrums, but at least I am entertaining. Imagine a life without my charm. Impossible, right?”
Trisha blushes at his flirtatious comeback, while the rest of us shake our heads, grinning at their adorable banter.
Just then, Meher clears her throat, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Why are we suddenly talking about babies? It’s my bro’s birthday. Let’s focus on him.” She slides her arm through Vishnu’s.
“Where’s my birthday gift?” he asks, and I notice a strange glint in Meher’s eyes.
“The gift I have for you is… special,” she replies mysteriously. “Trust me, it’s going to increase your family duties big time.”
I share confused glances with everyone else, but before we can probe further, Ayaan appears with Raghav—his fraternal twin.
And just like that, the vibe in the room shifts.
Though Raghav has turned over a new leaf, there’s something about him, an intensity, a presence that’s impossible to ignore. The way he moves, the confident way he holds himself—some things never quite fade away.
Raghav Kundra isn’t a man who merely enters a space; he commands it. Even in his reformed state, that unmistakable mafia aura still clings to him, as if his past refuses to fully release its grip. He’s dressed in a bespoke tailored black suit that hugs his broad shoulders. Every detail—from the crisp, open collar of his designer shirt to the sleek, expensive watch on his wrist—speaks of his sophistication and refined taste.
But it’s not the clothes that make him stand out. It’s the way he carries himself that sets him apart—a quiet confidence that borders on dangerous. His presence is definitely not for the faint-hearted; it is magnetic, lethal, like a predator who no longer hunts but hasn’t forgotten how.
Women might swoon over him, but he isn’t the kind of man to entertain weak hearts. There’s steel beneath that devastating charm, a darkness that simmers just beneath the surface.
Stopping in front of Vishnu, Raghav gives him a nod before extending his hand. “Happy birthday, Vishnu.”
Vishnu clasps his hand firmly. “Glad you could make it.”
I notice how Raghav’s usually guarded expression softens slightly.
Raghav nods. “Couldn’t miss an invite from the party president of the ruling party.”
Ayaan smirks, shaking his head. “Vishnu is a very ethical politician. If you’re hoping to grease some wheels for RK Vineyard’s business approvals, forget it. No shortcuts—only proper legal documentation works for him.”
Vishnu smirks at Ayaan, and the two tap their fists together in a silent brotherly high-five.
Raghav remains silent, merely watching the exchange with that unreadable gaze of his. But we all know—if he truly wanted something, no red tape in the world could stand in his way. That’s the kind of man he used to be.
The fact that he no longer takes those shortcuts and now walks the same path of righteousness as the rest of the Shergills, is what makes him even more formidable. Because when a man like Raghav chooses to stay on the right side of the line, it’s not because he’s forced to—it’s because he wants to. And that’s when you know he’s left his past behind and is done with it.
Aksh and Devika excuse themselves when they see Papa calling them. Meher steps forward and wraps Raghav in a warm side hug. The gesture is so natural and instinctive—just like a sister greeting her brother after a long time. And despite his usual aversion to hugs and any form of physical affection, Raghav doesn’t pull away. Instead, his arm tightens around her for a brief moment, as if soaking in that rare comfort. I’ve noticed this before also—the way Raghav is different around Meher—softer, more open, more human-like. And Meher, too, has formed this invisible bond with her brother-in-law, one that goes beyond mere words.
“I really thought you wouldn’t come today,” she says, arching a brow. “Just like last time, when you missed Veer’s birthday.”
Raghav exhales, adjusting the cuff of his suit. “I had renovations going on at the Vineyard resort back then. Couldn’t leave it unattended.” Then, with the faintest smirk, he adds, “But if I had missed this one, I’m sure you and Ayaan would’ve been at my doorstep, ready to drag me here.”
Meher grins, nudging Ayaan playfully. “Absolutely.”
Ayaan, standing tall beside her, slides an arm around her waist, his grip possessive yet casual. His dark eyes gleam with pride as he looks at his twin. “For once, you got that right. We’re not letting you disappear back into your brooding cave, Raghav. Not anymore.”
Raghav scoffs lightly, but there’s no real bite to it. He knows. He sees it—the way Ayaan, Kailash uncle, and Meher are all working tirelessly to anchor him to the Shergill family, refusing to let him slip back into the shadows of his past.
Meher’s voice softens, her concern evident. “You can’t keep isolating yourself forever, Raghav. Family isn’t just about blood—it’s about belonging. And you belong here .”
Raghav doesn’t answer right away. His jaw tightens as he glances suspiciously at Ayaan, muttering, “You put her up to this, didn’t you?”
Ayaan chuckles, shaking his head. “Meher doesn’t need me to put words in her mouth. She’s got a mind of her own—and she’s always right.” He winks at his wife, and she positively beams at him.
Raghav exhales, rubbing the back of his neck in mild exasperation. “You two are impossible.”
Meher simply links her arm with his, tugging him toward the rest of the group. “And yet, here you are—at a party, with us .”
Ayaan smirks. “Which means we’ve won.”
Raghav shakes his head but doesn’t pull away. Despite all his resistance, despite all the walls he keeps up, he stays . And that says more than any words ever could.
Trisha steps forward next, extending her hand to Raghav. Not long ago, he had helped Krish and Trisha on a crucial GLEN mission. His past mafia connections had made it possible to infiltrate a notorious drug lord’s den, something no one else could have pulled off.
“Nice to see you again after that mission,” she says with a knowing smile. “You disappeared so fast; you didn’t even wait for me to thank you properly.”
Raghav’s response is brief, as always. “Wasn’t looking for applause.” His eyes flick briefly to Ayaan. “I did it only because Ayaan asked for my help. I couldn’t refuse my brother.” A shadow passes over his face. “Besides, I had to be somewhere else... that time.”
There’s something about the way he says those last words that makes Krish’s eyes light up with mischief. “Of course,” he drawls, “But tell me, Raghav—why is it that wherever you go, mystery seems to follow?”
Raghav’s questioning look only confirms our suspicions—he genuinely has no clue how his secretive nature and sudden disappearances only make us more curious. I exchange a quick look with Meher, and she smirks, already sensing where this is headed.
The ex-mafia boss, the man who once ruled the underworld with sheer intimidation, has unwittingly walked straight into our trap. Like hunters, who have caught the scent of something irresistibly tempting, we close in—one by one, ready to dissect every ounce of his secrecy. And from the look of confusion on Raghav’s face, he has no absolutely idea what’s about to hit him.
“What were you doing at Mumbai’s club six months ago where Meher saw you?” Krish starts.
“With a woman’s sandal in hand, no less,” Vishnu adds, barely containing his grin.
I can’t help joining in. “You were in such a hurry you didn’t even stop to meet me and Devika inside!”
“And that bruise on your neck?” Ayaan’s eyebrows wiggle suggestively. “What was that about?”
“Who’s the mystery girl?” Trisha asks, practically bouncing with excitement.
Meher delivers the final blow: “So, are you dating already, or are we still in the wooing phase?”
It’s almost comical how the mysterious Raghav, who can breach any security and handle the most dangerous criminals, faces his toughest interrogation—from his own family. His expression darkens as his gaze sweeps across our eager faces before landing on Meher.
“Is there anyone left in this party you haven’t shared this with?” he mutters, annoyed.
Meher’s pouts dramatically. “Such things don’t stay hidden for long. It’s not every day we see you holding a woman’s sandal! We’re a very close-knit family—we have a right to know. Besides, you’re the only one left to tie the knot. Who else will we tease?”
“I’ve no plans to settle down,” Raghav says dismissively, crossing his arms over his chest. “Am happy with my singlehood.”
The men exchange knowing looks before bursting into laughter.
“Trust me, Raghav,” Krish pretends to wipe an imaginary tear from his eye, “we all sang that same song once upon a time.”
“Until we met our better halves,” Ayaan adds, his eyes softening as they land on Meher.
Vishnu wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “And we don’t regret giving up our bachelorhood one bit.”
Raghav takes a deep breath and very smartly diverts the topic.
“Speaking of ‘hoods,’” Raghav begins, “heard you’re excelling at fatherhood, Vishnu.”
“It comes naturally,” Vishnu smirks.
Something dark passes over Raghav’s face. “It’s hard to be a good father,” he says quietly. “Even harder to teach the right lessons to your son. After all, fathers play a very important role in shaping their children’s lives. They have the power to either make them or break them.” His gaze rests on Vishnu for a second before he looks away. “Not every child is as lucky as Veer… or even Ayaan, for that matter—to have a father like Kailash Shergill.”
The group goes silent. No one knows what to say. Ayaan gently places his hand over Raghav’s shoulder, offering silent support.
After a brief moment, Vishnu breaks the silence.
“Well, that was deep,” Vishnu finally says, trying to lighten the mood.
Before anyone can respond, Kailash uncle and Papa join the group.
“You’re absolutely right, Raghav,” Kailash uncle says warmly. “But… I’m not just Ayaan’s father. I see you as my son too. Haven’t I done enough to prove that to you?”
Raghav pauses before bending down to touch Kailash uncle’s feet—a rare sign of respect from a man who’d never truly known what a father’s love felt like.
As he straightens, Kailash uncle pulls him into a firm embrace. Raghav remains still for a moment before returning it, though his voice remains gruff as he says, “You’re doing your best… but maybe it’s a little too late for someone like me to have a father figure like you.”
Kailash uncle places a hand on Raghav’s back and shakes his head. “It’s never too late, son,” he says, his words carrying a promise he intends to keep.
Clearing his throat, he continues, “We’ve been waiting for you to show up, by the way. And this time, I hope you’re staying for more than a few hours. Or are you planning another one of your infamous disappearing acts again?”
Before giving Raghav a chance to respond, Kailash uncle presses on, a mischievous glint lighting in his eyes, “And what’s this I hear about a mysterious woman leaving you a sandal as a token of love?”
Raghav’s head snaps toward Meher, his eyes narrowing in silent accusation. She feigns innocence, but we all know she’s been waiting for this moment.
Ayaan steps forward, casually throwing an arm over Raghav’s shoulder. “Hey, easy there—don’t scare my wife,” he says smoothly, though his smirk says that he’s enjoying this way too much.
Raghav scoffs. “And you have nothing to say about her turning that one damn moment of my life into breaking news?” His exasperation only makes everyone laugh harder.
Before Ayaan can reply, Meher interrupts, crossing her arms.
“Oh really, Raghav? And what about you?” she challenges, tilting her head. “Six months ago, when I ran into you at Josh Club, didn’t you go and tattle to my husband that I followed you out the backdoor without my guards?”
Raghav raises a brow, unbothered. “That wasn’t tattling. That was concern.” He shrugs casually. “And my duty towards my brother. You can’t expect me to notice a flaw in my brother’s wife’s security and not inform him.”
Ayaan laughs, shaking his head. “I already knew about her little stunt before you said anything. Meher told me the whole story that very night.” Then he smirks. “But, to be fair, Raghav, you walking around with a woman’s sandal in your hand? That’s not something we can just forget.”
Papa, who had been watching us all this while, speaks up, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “In our time, we got plenty of sandals too, didn’t we, Kailash?”
“Oh yes,” Kailash chuckles, “except those were tokens of rejection, not love!”
Laughter erupts around us, and for once, even Raghav can’t resist the smirk tugging at his lips. But before anyone can ask further questions about the mysterious sandal lady, Devika and Aksh return, this time with Avika and Veer in tow. My heart melts as our son makes a beeline for Vishnu, his little arms reaching up to him, demanding to be picked up. The tenderness in Vishnu’s eyes as he scoops up Veer makes Raghav’s earlier words resonate even more deeply. Some men are born to be fathers, and watching Vishnu with our son, I know he’s one of them.
“My little lion,” Vishnu coos, adjusting Veer in his arms. “Are you enjoying the party?”
Veer’s response is to tug at Vishnu’s stubbly beard, which he loves so much, his eyes bright with mischief.
I chuckle, reaching up to wipe a little drool from the corner of Veer’s lips. “Did you wish your papa a happy birthday?”
Veer claps excitedly, his little voice ringing out, “Happy… happy take!” Before any of us can react, he leans forward and plants a wet, sloppy kiss on Vishnu’s cheek.
Vishnu grins, his expression softening as he kisses Veer’s cheek in return. “Thank you, my boy.”
But just as Vishnu pulls back, Veer starts patting Vishnu’s chest insistently.
“Take, take!” he demands in his cute, kiddie voice.
Krish ruffles Veer’s hair, confused. “Take? Your papa has already taken you in his arms, buddy. How much more will he take you?”
Vishnu chuckles, shaking his head. “He’s saying ‘cake.’”
Krish blinks, then bursts into laughter. “Ahh, cake! Next time, I am joining Aksh and Vishnu’s fatherhood classes like Ayaan. Call me.” He smirks. “Clearly, I’m missing out on the language of toddlers.”
Everyone laughs as Veer continues patting Vishnu’s cheek, his little voice repeating, “Take, take!” as if reminding his father of the most important agenda of the night.
Papa chuckles, stepping forward. “Come on now. I don’t want to make my grandson wait any longer. Let’s cut the cake.”
But before that, Vishnu raises a brow and turns to Meher. “Not so fast. First, I want to know what my dear sister is gifting me today. Her cryptic statement earlier has made me curious.”
Meher’s cheeks flush a soft pink as she glances at Ayaan, who gives her an encouraging nod, his hand resting protectively on her waist. She then turns to the family and takes a deep breath.
“Vishnu… seven months from now, you’ll have one more addition to the family to safeguard and go all protective on.”
Silence falls over the room as we all look at each other in confusion.
Then, just as realisation starts to sink in, Ayaan and Meher say in perfect sync, “We’re pregnant.”
For a split second, there’s stunned silence. Then, the room erupts into cheers of excitement. Papa and Kailash uncle are the first to react, quickly stepping forward to bless the couple. Papa claps Ayaan’s back proudly while Kailash uncle pulls Meher into a warm hug like she is his own daughter.
He then turns to Papa with mock amusement. “Pratap, all this while, you kept teasing me that you had grandchildren while I didn’t. Now, you won’t be able to brag about it anymore. My daughter-in-law has finally given us all the good news.”
Papa laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t forget—your daughter-in-law is also my daughter.”
The family laughs at their friendly banter, but I can’t hold back anymore. Devika and I squeal, throwing ourselves at Meher.
“Oh my God, Meher! This is the best news ever!” I gush, hugging her tight.
Devika wipes away a tear, laughing. “We’re finally getting another baby in the family! Our trio is expanding!”
Trisha steps in, her eyes twinkling with joy as she hugs Meher. “You’re going to be such an amazing mom, Meher.”
“I have so much to learn, though,” Meher sniffles, nodding.
Vishnu finally steps forward, engulfing Meher in a tight hug.
“The entire family has been waiting for this moment—to see you and Ayaan join the parent club. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see my little sister about to become a mother.”
Meher pulls back, her eyes moist with unshed tears. “One thing I know for sure,” she whispers, “just like my brother has always protected me, he will protect my baby too—no matter what.”
“Always.” Vishnu places a firm kiss on her forehead and nods.
“Well, well, Ayaan, congratulations,” Krish grins, clapping Ayaan on the shoulder. “Get ready for sleepless nights and diaper duty, my friend.”
Ayaan smirks, pulling Meher closer. “Unlike you, Krish, I’m actually looking forward to it.”
Raghav, who had been watching quietly, finally steps in. “Congratulations,” he says, giving Ayaan a brief hug before turning to Meher. “You’ll be a wonderful mother.”
Ayaan grins at his brother. “And you, Raghav—you’re going to be a chachu. Better start preparing.”
Raghav smirks. “I’ll stick to spoiling the kid. Discipline is your department.”
We laugh again at his teasing reply. And then, just as the excitement settles, a small voice pipes up again.
“Take, take!” Veer demands once more, patting Vishnu’s chest again.
Vishnu laughs, adjusting Veer in his arms. “Alright, my boy. Let’s get that cake.”
Papa signals to the staff, who wheel in a magnificent cake decorated in elegant swirls of gold and black. It’s exactly what Vishnu deserves—sophisticated yet celebratory.
Our family and friends circle around us as Vishnu balances Veer in one arm and takes the knife in his other hand. The way he holds our son so naturally while maintaining his commanding presence makes my heart flutter. Some things never change—he’s still the most captivating man in the room.
“Make a wish,” I whisper, touching his arm lightly.
But Vishnu doesn’t look at the cake. Instead, his eyes find mine, dark and intense.
“I already have everything I’ve ever wished for,” he says softly, and the raw honesty in his voice nearly brings tears to my eyes.
Looking at him now, surrounded by love and laughter, it’s hard to imagine the man he once was—living in shadows, burdened by duty and pain. But now, he has everything: family, love, purpose, joy. And knowing that I’ve been a part of that transformation, that I helped bring light into his life, just as he brought stability in mine, fills me with a happiness that’s hard to explain.
The cake-cutting ceremony quickly turns into delighted chaos when Veer, our little mischief-maker, decides to decorate his father’s face with frosting. Everyone bursts into laughter, and even Vishnu, the calm and composed one, chuckles as he wipes the cream from his nose.
In the midst of the celebration, he pulls me close, his fingers tracing patterns on my back as we sneak away from the rest of the family. Even after all this time, his touch still has the power to leave me wanting, desperate for more.
“Happy Birthday, my love,” I whisper against his chest.
He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, his lips warm against my skin. “This has been the best birthday of my life.”
I reach up, my fingers sliding into his hair, drawing him closer. “Because you deserve the best, Vishnu.”
When his lips meet mine, the world fades away. The kiss is slow, deep, full of promise—an undeniable truth we both know in our hearts: no matter what storms life may bring, we will always find our way back to each other.
In his arms, with our son nestled between us and our family surrounding us, I know this is what true happiness feels like. This is what forever feels like.