Years had passed.

The wounds that once bled betrayal and abandonment were now quiet scars — reminders, not regrets.

Sahana stood near a window of a quiet home in Coorg, sipping her evening coffee as the breeze tousled her hair.

She smiled faintly as she turned around — her husband, Raghav, was chasing their little daughter around the garden, pretending to be a monster.

Laughter. Pure and untainted.

Something she had forgotten she deserved.

---

The Day She Let Go

That day outside the adoption center, when her eyes met Veeresh’s and then drifted to Poornima — a woman who carried dignity even through pain — Sahana had finally accepted one truth:

> "You can't fight fate. But you can choose peace."

She had walked away, not in defeat, but in freedom.

And not long after, Raghav had entered her life — a calm, grounded man, a doctor who understood her silences and never asked her to explain her past.

They got married quietly. No drama. No rituals tied to pain.

---

A Family of Three

Sahana named her daughter Ira — meaning “earth” — because she wanted a name that reminded her of grounding, of stability, of something solid and nurturing.

Ira had her eyes and Raghav’s calm.

She often asked, “Mumma, why do you cry when I kiss you?”

Sahana would just hold her tight and whisper,

> “Because God gave me you… after He knew how much I needed love.”

---

Reflection

Sometimes at night, when Ira is asleep and Raghav is reading beside her, Sahana would look up at the stars and whisper:

> “Thank you for letting me lose what wasn’t mine —

so I could be found by someone who saw all of me.”

She didn’t hate Veeresh anymore.

She didn’t envy Poornima.

In fact, she had forgiven them — not for them, but for herself.

Pain had once made her bitter.

But healing made her whole.

---

Last Line

One day, when Ira asked her what love meant…

Sahana smiled gently and said:

> “Love is not just holding on.

It’s knowing when to let go —

and still wishing them peace.”

And that was Sahana’s happy ending.