Full Circle

The test had come back positive.

Poornima was pregnant.

Tears had welled in her eyes as Veeresh lifted her up in joy, twirling her gently as if afraid to hurt her. They had laughed, cried, and sat in silence — hands locked, foreheads resting together, imagining tiny feet running around, laughter echoing through their home.

But fate, ever so unpredictable, had other plans.

The miscarriage came like a thief in the night — sudden, sharp, and ruthless.

The silence in the hospital room was deafening.

Poornima lay in bed, her face pale and blank, staring at the ceiling. Veeresh sat beside her, holding her hand that refused to hold back.

Her body had healed.

But her soul…

Not yet.

That evening, as they sat quietly on their balcony, the wind gentle, Veeresh softly spoke:

> “If we never have our own, that’s okay. There are many children in this world waiting for love. We can give them ours.”

She turned to him, eyes wide and teary.

> “Really?”

He placed his hand over her heart.

> “Love doesn’t need blood. I’ve learned that from you.”

They shared a quiet hug, two hearts mourning, yet steady — and ready to start again.

---

A Week Later — At the Adoption Centre

They walked through the pastel-coloured corridors of the adoption center, the laughter of children echoing warmly. As they browsed through files and played with a few kids, a familiar voice caught Poornima’s ear.

She turned.

There, under the shade of a neem tree in the playground, stood Sahana — smiling, serene — holding a little girl’s hand and standing beside a tall, kind-looking man.

Her smile faded for a moment as their eyes met.

Veeresh froze. So did Poornima.

Sahana hesitated, then turned her back and walked away with her new family.

But Poornima gripped Veeresh’s hand.

> “Her curse… it came true.”

> “Are you out of your mind?” he snapped.

She looked at him — not with anger, but softness.

> “No, Veeresh. I think we should understand her pain too. We never asked her how much it hurt. We just moved on… like her feelings didn’t matter. That’s not fair.”

Veeresh paused. His heart knew she was right.

They found Sahana sitting alone on a bench nearby, tying the shoelace of the child. She looked up, surprised.

Poornima and Veeresh approached slowly.

> “Sahana…” Poornima said, voice low, “We’re sorry. Truly. For everything.”

Sahana stood up, her eyes moist.

> “It hurt. It broke me. But I moved on. I met a man who helped me heal… and this little one, she’s my heart now.”

She wiped her tears and stepped forward.

> “I forgive you both. And I’m sorry too, Poornima… for those horrible words. I was angry, lost, betrayed. But I shouldn’t have cursed you.”

Poornima smiled, tears brimming.

> “You had every right. And I wish you happiness. Truly.”

The three stood silently, eyes full but hearts light.

They parted ways, not as enemies — but as people who had once broken, bled, and bloomed again.

---

That night, as they drove back home, Poornima rested her head on Veeresh’s shoulder.

> “I feel peace.”

He kissed her hand.

> “I feel light.”

And they both smiled — knowing their story wasn’t one of perfection.

But one of resilience, forgiveness, and the quiet strength of love.