Epilogue
Dev
A few years later
“I have nothing to wear,” Meera groans.
I lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, taking in the piles of clothes scattered everywhere and her sitting on the edge of the bed. “I beg to differ, sweetheart.”
She glares up at me. “Dev, nothing fits. I look—”
“You look perfect,” I cut in, stepping into our room and crouching in front of her, one hand sliding to her knee, the other resting against the curve of her eight-month-swollen belly. “I’ve never seen anything more perfect in my entire life than my pregnant wife.”
Her breath catches, irritation melting at the edges. “You love me. You have to say that.”
“I do love you,” I say, tracing my thumb over her belly. “But I also mean it. You are beautiful. Especially like this.”
I’m about to kiss her when she huffs dramatically. “Like a whale?”
“Like a goddess,” I correct, my eyes narrowing. “My goddess. The only miracle I ever believed in.”
Her expression softens, just slightly, but she still rolls her eyes, because that’s typical Meera, refusing to ever agree with me.
“You’ve been dramatic ever since you heard I’m pregnant,” she mutters defensively.
“Pregnant with my child,” I remind her possessively. Because it’s the only way I know how to love her. “Trust me, I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this.”
She sighs, like she’s already heard all this, but her lips tremble with a smile she tries hiding. “You’re impossible.”
“Mm,” I hum, kissing her forehead. “But you love me.”
“That I do,” she whispers. Then she pulls back just enough to look at me. “But now you’re going to help me find something to wear. I want to look perfect for our family dinner.”
At the mention of family, something tightens in my chest. Veer and Dad’s betrayal flashes behind my eyes.
I’m still not fully over what they did, the way they hurt Meera.
A part of me will probably never forget it.
The protective, possessive part of me still wants to keep her far away from anything that ever made her cry.
But Meera is too soft-hearted for her own good.
She forgave them and asked me to do the same.
My mind drifts back to the night Dad and Veer came home to apologise.
I hadn’t reported them to the police, but I had cut every tie that mattered.
More importantly, I had walked away from the life I once knew, left behind everything illegal, moved into a house near her parents, and started again from scratch, working towards opening my own pub.
When they stood at my doorstep that night, every instinct in me wanted to slam the door in their faces. But Meera stopped me and asked me to listen.
I hated the idea of hearing a single word from them, knowing no explanation could ever justify what they had done. But the hope in Meera’s eyes loosened the anger I had been gripping with both hands. So I listened to their apologies.
They didn’t offer excuses, only promises to change, to become better people. And that night, Meera and I chose forgiveness. We chose to be a family again and went back to our house as a family.
Meera’s presence brought the feminine touch our home had been missing, and it made a world of difference. Over the years, we put an end to all illegal activities and rebuilt the pub the right way, clean and honest. And that was largely because Meera played an important role in turning us around.
Sometimes I think I couldn’t possibly love her more, and then she does something like that, something gentle and impossibly strong, and I fall again, harder than before.
She reaches up and touches my cheek. “I’m proud of you.”
I exhale slowly, shaking off the emotion. “I forgave them because you asked.”
Her expression cracks. “That’s not the—”
“That’s the truth, sweetheart.” I look at her belly bulging between us. “I did it for you, for our little one.”
She leans closer. “I know, Dev. And that’s why I love you.”
I lean down, brushing my lips against hers. “I love you too.”
Just then, her phone beeps. Meera pulls back to read the message, a small smile tugging at her lips as she types back. She places the phone beside her on the bed and looks up at me.
“Samarth confirmed he’s coming for dinner.”
I groan. Of course he is.
Well, now I can confirm this dinner is going to be pure torture.
Even after years of marriage, seeing them together tests every shred of my patience.
And what’s worse, I live with it every day, because they still work together.
I’ve tried more than once to convince her to quit, to make it easier on me, but she refused stubbornly, arguing she wouldn’t give up her job for my jealousy.
Meera shifts as if she can read my damn mind. “Dev…”
“Don’t.”
She narrows her eyes. “You promised tonight would be peaceful.”
“I said I’d try,” I correct.
“You said you’d behave.”
“Tell him to keep his distance, and there won’t be a problem.” My jealousy isn’t logical. Not even a little. Not when it comes to Meera.
She sighs heavily. “Stop being so—”
“Obsessed?” I offer.
She rolls her eyes. “Exactly.”
I press a kiss to her stomach, then look up at her. “Too late for that, sweetheart.”
“You’re jealous for no reason,” she says, trying to reason with me like she always does.
“There’s always a reason when he’s near you,” I growl back.
She leans closer and cups my face. “You have my heart, Dev. Stop tormenting yourself with ghosts that aren’t real.”
“I know I have your heart,” I murmur, holding her gaze, “but that doesn’t stop me from feeling jealous when someone else looks at you, sweetheart.”
She shakes her head, a faint smile on her lips, and I let the topic drop. Instead, I help her pick out a red saree.
When she’s finally dressed, I can’t tear my gaze away. The way the fabric curves over her bump makes her look utterly breathtaking.
A few hours later, dinner is finally done, and we all settle into the living room. Her parents take one couch, my dad and Veer take another, while Samarth lounges in the single recliner. Meera perches beside me on the two-seater, and soon, we drift into easy, comfortable conversation.
But every time Samarth looks at her with that gentle, platonic warmth, a flare of possessiveness tightens in my chest, making me want to break something.
Meera squeezes my hand with a silent command: Behave. And it’s the only thing stopping me from walking over and breaking his teeth.
It’s almost ten and Dad and Veer retreat to their room, while Meera slips away to our bedroom with her parents to spend some time with them. I make my way to the balcony, intending to talk to Samarth.
When I reach the terrace, I find him already there, leaning against the railing. As I approach, he glances over his shoulder, then turns and settles fully against it, hands folded, as if he knew I’d come.
I exhale sharply, my fingers tightening on the railing. “I’m not good at this… talking.”
“I know,” he says with a small smile.
I ignore the jab. A full minute drags by before I clear my throat, feeling like each word is a damn boulder I’m shoving uphill.
“For the way I behave with you…” I begin, then snap back only for my pride to bare its teeth. I take a deep breath and try again. “I shouldn’t keep snapping at you,” I manage, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
“You do that because you are jealous,” he says plainly.
I glare at him, irritated by his mocking. “Don’t you dare label it.”
“I didn’t mean it as an insult.”
“I don’t care how you meant it.” There I go, hating anything he has to say, even when it’s the truth.
He lets out a small chuckle under his breath. “Dev, I’ve never crossed a line with Meera. And I never will.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “It’s just that with her, my jealousy always gets the better of me.”
Samarth nods. “She loves you deeply. That’s never going to change.”
I swallow hard because hearing someone else say it hits differently.
“And I know how important you are to her, and she would never want you upset because of me,” he continues. “So if my presence ever makes things harder for you, just tell me. I’ll step back.”
“No.”
He looks at me, surprised.
I continue, “I don’t want her losing her friend because I’m—” I stop myself before I can say insecure. Because Dev Rathore does not admit to insecurity.
He waits, his eyebrows raised. “Because you are…?”
“Because I’m possessive,” I finish. “And it’s not your job to shrink to accommodate that.”
“Fair enough.”
Another beat of silence, before I speak. “But I need you to understand something.”
He gestures for me to continue.
“You may be her dear friend. She may care for you. But she’s my wife. My life. And if anyone tries to take her away from me, I won’t care who they are. I won’t spare them.”
Samarth’s eyes harden. Not with anger, but with understanding. “I know, Dev. Her happiness is with you, and I will never do anything to ruin that.”
“Good.”
He lets out a small laugh. “So… is this your way of apologising?”
“No,” I deadpan. “This is my way of making sure I don’t upset my wife by behaving rudely with her friend.”
He laughs fully now, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”
I nod, and we stand in an unexpectedly quiet truce, something I never imagined sharing with him. As I step towards the door, he calls out, “Dev?”
I look back.
“You’re good for her. Even with your… arrogance.”
I lift my chin. “I know.”
“For what it’s worth,” he adds softly, “I’m glad she chose you.”
I stare at him for a long moment, letting the weight of his words settle. Then I answer, “You should be.”
And with that, I step back inside, but stop dead when I see Meera by the balcony door, tears running down her face.
I cup her face instantly. “Meera, what… what happened? Are you in pain? Did someone—”
She shakes her head, a trembling smile gracing her lips. “I heard you.”
My brow furrows. “Heard what?”
“Everything. Your conversation with Samarth.” Her hand finds my cheek.
I swallow, suddenly unsure of my words. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t a big deal.”
“It was,” she argues softly. “To me, it was.”
She leans forward, resting her forehead against mine, her uneven breath warm against my lips. “You’re a good man, Dev,” she whispers. “Even if you don’t always see it… you’re good.”
My fingers tighten at her waist, and I pull her just a little closer. “You’re the reason,” I murmur, my breath brushing her lips. “Whatever good there is in me… it’s all because of you.”
And that’s the truth. Because at the end of it all, everything I do begins and ends with her.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you too, sweetheart.” My hand moves to her belly, feeling our baby move beneath my palm. “You and our child,” I murmur, my tone fierce. “Nothing will ever come between us. I swear it.”
Even after all these years with her, I still wake up some nights, my heart hammering, terrified that this—her, our love, the family we’ve built—could be ripped away from me. Especially after how close I came to losing her, and knowing how much of a jerk I can be.
But she always calms me, reminding me that she’ll never leave me. That she loves me exactly as I’m, flaws and all. And I can’t help but thank my stars every single day for the depth of trust she placed in me with her heart, and for the love she chose to give me so completely.
Because in choosing her, I didn’t just find love.
I found my home.
The End