Chapter 76 – Blurred Faces

Veeresh wiped his face with the back of his hand, composed himself, and went inside again. The sterile smell of the hospital room didn’t match the storm raging in his chest. He sat gently beside her bed, not too close, afraid to overwhelm her.

Poornima’s wide, questioning eyes followed him. “Why are you crying…? Who are you to me?”

His throat tightened, but he forced his voice steady. “Poornima… we are married. You’re my wife.” He reached into his bag with trembling hands and pulled out a small packet—their temple wedding photos, still safe in the worn envelope he carried everywhere. He spread them across the blanket.

“See? This is us. That sindoor in your hair… this mangalsutra on your neck.” His fingers brushed against the chain that still rested there, though she hadn’t remembered its weight. “I tied it. That day, I promised you forever.”

Poornima’s brows furrowed, her fingers touching the photo shakily. The smile in the picture, her laughter captured in those moments—her soul recognized it, but her mind resisted.

“And him…” Veeresh gently lifted their newborn son from the cradle, wrapping him securely before placing him near her. “This is our son. You gave him life, Poornima. You are his amma.”

Poornima’s lips parted. She stared at the tiny baby curling against her chest instinctively, her heartbeat quickening. “Our… son?” she whispered. The word trembled on her tongue as if it didn’t belong, yet felt too natural to deny.

Veeresh’s eyes filled again. He cupped her hand, pressing it against their son’s tiny head. “Yes. Ours. Yours and mine.”

Her eyes shut tightly, her face twisting in pain. “But… when? When did we… marry? Why can’t I remember?”

Veeresh swallowed hard. “It was in the temple. Secret, sacred. Just you and me, and seven pheras around the holy fire. You wore white that day, looking like a goddess… and you became my wife, Poornima Veeresh Raj.”

Poornima gasped, clutching her head. Her breaths grew ragged. “I… I can’t see clearly. Faces are blurred… but someone… someone keeps calling me—Mrs. Raj. Again and again. A voice. Deep. Warm. But I…” She held her temples, tears slipping down. “My head is spinning.”

Veeresh quickly held her shoulders, his touch gentle but steady. “Don’t force it, Poornima. Don’t hurt yourself.” His forehead pressed against hers, his voice breaking. “Even if you don’t remember now… I’ll remind you. I’ll be your strength, your memory, your everything. You don’t need to fight alone.”

She blinked at him, torn between fear and the strange comfort his presence brought. Her hand unconsciously tightened around his, as if her heart remembered what her mind did not.