CHAPTER 18
SIMRAN
I stand at the doorway, my heart pounding but my stance firm, as if that’s the only thing holding me together. In the middle of my living room are the Walia men—Vishnu and his father, Pratap Walia—their tall, imposing figures almost identical, a mirror image of each other.
The moment Abhay and I stepped into the parking lot, one of the guards informed us of Pratap Walia’s arrival. The news hit me like a rock. I had braced myself for many things, but not for coming face-to-face with Vishnu’s father—who, I was certain, now knew about Veer.
I’ve never exchanged more than pleasantries with Pratap Walia. Despite my closeness to Meher and Devika, he’d always remained a distant figure to me—stern, authoritative, a man who had only recently begun to acknowledge his son after years of denying him his right. While I can’t say I admire him, I know Vishnu does. His father, Pratap Walia, is his world, his role model.
For Vishnu’s sake, I would have to find a way to respect this man who had been both a barrier and a guiding light in his life. Yet nothing could have prepared me for the conversation unfolding before my eyes.
I had arrived mid-conversation, catching the tail end of an intense discussion. Pratap Walia’s question hung in the air—was Vishnu marrying me only for Veer?
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t what I heard. Vishnu’s response stunned me, leaving me speechless.
The words he couldn’t bring himself to tell me directly, he had somehow found the courage to share with his father. He spoke about making ‘us’ work, about bridging the gap between us. It was a glimmer of hope, a promise I hadn’t dared to expect.
Yet, his insistence on getting married within two weeks, without even forgiving me, ignited a different kind of fire within me. No discussion, no compromise—just a decision he made entirely on his own. And I’m sure his father didn’t have any problem with it either. So, when he asked Vishnu if I was ready for such a rushed wedding, something inside me snapped.
“No,” I said firmly, my voice cutting through the room like a knife.
Both men turn to me, their reactions starkly different. Pratap Walia looks mildly shocked, but Vishnu? He looks livid. His jaw clenches, his nostrils flare, and his dark eyes burn with displeasure. But I don’t flinch. I know he wasn’t expecting me to challenge him, especially not in front of his father.
But this is who I am. The entire Walia family might cower before Pratap Walia, but I am not one of them. I never will be. After everything that happened, after months of being ghosted by Vishnu, he cannot simply dictate our marriage? Let him learn that I am not a passive participant in his plans. I stand my ground, meeting Vishnu’s fiery gaze with a challenge of my own.
However, his father’s presence makes the situation more complex. I can feel his eyes studying me, weighing my reaction, trying to understand the dynamics between his son and me. But I am not afraid of him. I am Simran—a woman who has fought all her battles alone, who has protected her son with everything she had, and who has built her life brick by brick after coming here. I will not be railroaded into a decision, no matter how much I might want the underlying emotions to be true.
As my eyes shift from Vishnu to his father, I can see the anger slowly simmering in his face. His expression hardens, and I know exactly what’s coming. His piercing gaze seems to pin me in place as if dissecting the gravity of my mistake—the truth about Veer, the years of secrecy, and the pain I’ve caused his son, Vishnu.
I step further into the room, squaring my shoulders as Pratap Walia’s voice booms in the air.
“Do you even know what you have done, woman? You have not just kept a father away from his son—you kept your son away from his father and his entire family. You’ve denied Veer his rightful place in this family! He is a Walia, the heir to everything our family stands for.”
His words hit hard, but I steady myself.
“He is too young to understand what his mother did,” he continues. “But mark my words—if you delay this any longer, he will hold you responsible when he grows up. You’ve kept him from his father’s love, his grandfather’s pampering, his aunts’ doting affection—in short—from the entire Walia family. And now, when we’re trying to right this wrong, you’re blatantly refusing to cooperate?”
“I am not saying no to the marriage,” I clarify boldly. “I just want more time.”
“Time?” His eyes narrow, his stance growing more intimidating. “You had all the time in the world, didn’t you? It’s not Vishnu’s fault that you decided to chase your dreams while hiding his son from him.”
Something snaps inside me.
“And Vishnu?” I shoot back, my voice rising. “Did he not have all the time in the world to come after me if I was so important to him? It’s only now—when it’s about his son—that he’s decided to make me a priority. How is that fair, Mr. Walia?”
“Simran!” Vishnu’s voice cuts through the air in a warning. He takes a step toward me, his towering frame stiff with anger, but his father raises a hand to stop him and continues.
“There’s a lot I can say to you for what you have done,” Pratap Walia says, his tone sharp. “But if I am quiet, it is only because you mean something to my son. That doesn’t, however, mean I’ve forgotten your deceit.”
“I’m not proud of what I did,” I admit, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Not for a moment. But mistakes—whether intentional or not—happen. And who knows that better than you? You, too, have made your own mistakes, ones you regretted and tried to fix. For years, you prioritised your career over acknowledging Vishnu as your son. It’s not so different from me choosing my dreams over revealing my pregnancy to Vishnu. From where I see, we both have made the same mistakes, one we both have later repented.”
“Simran.” Vishnu grabs my elbow, turning me towards him. “Watch your words,” he warns. “You’re speaking to my father, and I won’t tolerate anyone speaking to him that way.”
“Easy, Vishnu.” I shrug him off. “I have no intention of disrespecting him. I’m simply stating facts.”
Turning back to his father, I continue, “I am not proud of my past decisions. I know what I did was wrong. I am guilty. Believe me, I carry that guilt with me every day. But rushing into marriage to fix one mistake without addressing the issues between us isn’t the answer. I’ve already made a mistake by hiding my pregnancy. But now, I won’t make another decision that costs me everything I hold dear, including my self-respect.”
A stunned silence fills the room. For a moment, I think I’ve gone too far. But to my surprise, Pratap Walia lips curl into a smile—something I definitely didn’t expect.
Even Vishnu looks shocked at his father’s reaction.
“You have got quite an attitude, girl,” he says. “Any other woman wouldn’t have had the guts to say this to my face. Now I see what Vishnu sees in you—what pulled him towards you in the first place, when he’s otherwise kept every other woman at a distance. You’re strong-willed, sharp, and not afraid to stand your ground—even when you’re wrong.”
I’m momentarily speechless, unsure how to respond to his unexpected words.
“With an attitude like yours, you’re a perfect fit as a Walia daughter-in-law. I couldn’t have found a better wife for Vishnu if I tried. But that doesn’t mean I’ll accept your excuses.”
His tone becomes serious. “Vishnu is right to insist on this marriage. In our world, secrets like these can lead to scandals that can haunt you forever. Do you want your son to go through all that? I have made my share of mistakes, and I’m telling you this based on my personal experience.”
His final words are both a warning and a welcome.
“Cooperate with Vishnu,” he says, pointing a finger at me. “Protect Veer’s identity as a Walia. The Walia family will be waiting with open arms to welcome their daughter-in-law ‘Simran Vishnu Walia’ and grandson ‘Veer Vishnu Walia’ at the Walia Mansion. Just don’t make us wait too long.”
Before I can argue further, a soft voice interrupts us—Veer’s voice. All three of us—Vishnu, his father, and I turn to see Claire holding Veer in her arms. He is wide awake and looks excitedly at us.
I watch as Pratap Walia’s expression transforms instantly. The anger melts away, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated love. Veer waves his arms, silently demanding to be held, and I can see the magnetic pull between the grandfather and grandson.
Vishnu strides over to Claire, his face beaming with joy, and gently takes Veer into his arms. His movements are smooth, filled with a father’s instinct as he walks back to us.
“Meet your Daadu,” he tells Veer, his voice brimming with pride as he introduces our son to his father.
Veer studies Vishnu’s lips intently, his small face scrunching up in concentration before breaking into a toothy grin.
“Duuu!” he mimics, repeating only the last syllable with adorable determination.
The words feels like a cannonball, crashing through the tension in the room and melting even the toughest hearts. Pratap Walia’s reaction is instant. He looks visibly moved. Without a moment’s hesitation, he takes Veer into his arms and kisses his forehead with a tenderness I never expected from such a stern man.
“Yes, I am your Daadu, Veer,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “And I can’t wait for you to call me that soon. I love you so much.”
Veer, being Veer, reaches out and grabs his beard—just like he does with Vishnu, seemingly loving the scratchy texture. The sight is almost surreal—Pratap Walia, the formidable and stoic leader, reduced to a doting grandfather, completely mesmerised by his grandson.
I catch Vishnu's eye, who’s standing nearby, silently taking in the moment with a quiet pride—the pride of seeing his son embrace his grandfather’s love.
The two strongest Walia men are now joined by the smallest, yet most significant member of their family. The unity, the love, the connection—it’s breathtaking. It’s a picture-perfect moment, one that pierces right through me. And then the emotions hit me hard.
Tears well up in my eyes, and no matter how hard I try to hold them back, they spill over. This isn’t just about witnessing this moment. It’s about everything I’ve deprived him of—this unconditional love, this unbreakable bond—not just with Vishnu, but with a family that he could have been a part of all along, if only I’d let them. Pratap Walia’s earlier words echo in my mind, as sharp as a blade: You’ve kept him away from all of us.
I can’t stay here any longer. Wiping my tears hastily, I turn and rush to the bedroom, my chest tightening with every step. Once inside, I close the door and lean against it, taking a shaky breath to steady myself. The secret is out. The Walia family knows about Veer. And I know this is just the beginning. There will be more drama, more confrontations with my friends Meher and Devika, and then, of course, there’s the impending wedding with Vishnu.
As I sit on the bed, trying to compose myself, I hear Veer’s delighted giggles from the other room. The sound is a reminder of everything—my mistakes, my love for him, and my hopes for the future.
My hands shake as I wipe my face again, but the tears refuse to stop. Today has only confirmed what I’ve feared the most: Veer isn’t just mine to protect. He belongs to them too. And whether I like it or not, my life is no longer mine alone—it’s entangled with the Walias. Forever.