Epilogue
“If you’re in love with her, that’s all that matters. Because love is the only real force out there.”
—Raghav Rathore, Pyaar Ke Khatir
One year later
Veer stepped out of the car, hand in hand with Harsha, as the screams and shouts of fans, the camera shutters of the paparazzi, and the romantic music booming from the speakers greeted them at the premiere of Kunal Jowar’s first-ever sitcom.
“I think I might go blind,” Harsha whispered, shielding her eyes. “How do people do this again and again?”
“I hope we’ll get used to it soon,” Veer said, laughing.
She smiled and sidled closer to him. “For you, I could get used to anything—even chocolate ice cream.”
Veer nearly floated off the ground at those words. Five months ago, he had landed his fourth acting job and was now making enough to have fully paid Harsha back for his brother’s tuition. Mom had offered to chip in using her alimony checks to pay the fees for Arjun’s second year of his MBA, and Veer had readily agreed.
“Show us the ring, Harsha!” one of the reporters screamed. Not long after the sitcom’s promotional events began, Bangalore paparazzi made the connection that Veer’s girlfriend was Madhusudan Godbole’s niece, which brought their relationship—and Harsha— back into the limelight. She awkwardly flashed the small, simple diamond-and-gold ring at the cameras in answer. “For a photographer, I sure have no idea what to do with my hands,” she mumbled to Veer. He pecked her on the forehead, chuckling.
Once they were both in a good position financially, Veer and Harsha had decided to rent a bigger, better apartment in Bangalore together—and after making that decision, there had been no doubt in Veer’s mind that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
He’d popped the question during Harsha’s final night living alone, when they were packing up her things and bidding goodbye to that musty one-bedroom unit. Veer got down on one knee in front of her tiny couch and held out his mother’s wedding ring for Harsha to accept.
She screamed and tackled him, getting cherry-red lipstick all over his face, then pulled away to ask, “Why…here?”
He’d simply smiled and slid the ring over her finger. “Because the day I came over to fix the faulty tap in your bathroom was the day I started to get to know the real you. And I never want to stop, Pixie.”
Now, at the premiere, someone from the paparazzi yelled, “Veer, look here!” so he put an arm around his fiancée and posed for the cameras. He could tell Harsha was nervous because she was playing with the hair elastic that, he’d come to accept, would always be on her wrist.
“You okay?” he whispered in her ear, grinning when he noticed goosebumps sprout along her neck. A year together, and his breath on her skin still had that effect on her.
“Better than ever,” she admitted, blushing. “Selfie? Sasha would want to see this.”
“Yep,” Veer said. He pressed their cheeks together and made a winky-face, and Harsha laughed and clicked the picture. A year ago, Veer never would have believed the uptight, rich customer at Sunstag would be the love of his life, and not at all like his first impression of her.
But that was what he loved about their relationship: It was always growing, and he was always learning new things about her. Like how she couldn’t watch horror movies without getting nightmares, which was why Veer had promised never to act in one, not even for a million dollars. Or that she had a ten-step shower routine that took well over an hour every day. Their first week living together, Veer had protested, but when Harsha agreed to stick to her signature strawberry-scented products for all of eternity, he decided it was worth it.
Despite his acting career taking off, he still hung out with his barista friends a few times every month. Deepika had been made the new store manager, as she’d hoped for, while Raunak had done the most unexpected thing—fallen in love.
Lights flashed as Harsha and Veer walked the red carpet. “I can’t imagine doing this three more times next year,” she mumbled, awkwardly posing for the cameras, and he laughed. He was in the process of filming his next three projects: in one film, set in Mumbai, he was the jealous ex-boyfriend; in another, he was a nosy neighbor; and in the limited series, he was the goofy best friend.
His time would come. Soon, he wouldn’t just be standing in the sidelines on movie or TV show posters, he’d be front and center, the hero in a big-budget project where he’d pretend to romance Bollywood’s biggest and best actresses.
Kunal Jowar walked up behind them and took Harsha’s hand to kiss—eliciting a near-swoon from her—and said, “Harsha, you look more beautiful each time I see you! Such a lovely couple. Veer, you never told me how the two of you met.”
“If you knew,” Veer said, chuckling, “you’d turn it into a blockbuster movie.”
“All the more reason to tell me.” Kunal winked. He slapped Veer on the back, adding, “See you inside.”
Harsha squealed as he left, and Veer planted a kiss on her head. He knew he had a lot to look forward to: magazine interviews, critical acclaim, raving fans…he couldn’t wait.
“Let’s see how well you can act outside of our charade,” Harsha said, nearly dragging him inside the screening room. “I can’t believe you didn’t give me any spoilers.”
“I have other ways to spoil you,” he said, which made her giggle. They found their seats, and as the lights went out and the screening of the pilot began, Veer took Harsha’s hand in his, a smile on his face from ear to ear.
Yes, he had a lot to look forward to. But what he looked forward to the most was a whole lifetime of real-dating Harsha Godbole.