Veeresh cradled Poornima’s lifeless body in his arms, his chest heaving with sobs that tore through the sterile air of the hospital. His tears fell freely, tracing the contours of her face he had loved so fiercely.

“Please… please, Poornima,” he whispered brokenly, voice raw with desperation. “Don’t leave me… don’t leave us.”

He pressed his lips to hers, a kiss heavy with grief and love, as if trying to pour every unspoken word into her. “I love you… I love you, Poornima. We… we would have had our happy ending… in the next life.”

Then, carefully, almost reverently, Veeresh lifted their three children—two boys and a girl—and placed them gently on her. Tiny hands touched her cheeks, their innocent cries mingling with the unspoken sorrow. One by one, they kissed her face and clung to her, as if knowing that she was their world.

Veeresh’s parents, Sharada and Abhimanyu, approached, tears streaming down their faces. They knelt beside her, touching her hands, her shoulders, and her cheeks, whispering blessings.

“May you be at peace, beta,” Sharada murmured, her voice choked with emotion. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Abhimanyu bowed his head, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “We are sorry, Poornima. May your soul find the joy you were denied in life.”

Veeresh held her tighter, rocking her slightly as if her warmth could still be felt through memory alone. The soft cries of their children surrounded them, a testament to the love she had left behind.

For a brief moment, the pain of the world paused, leaving only a father, his children, and the memory of a woman who had changed everything. Veeresh whispered once more, brushing her hair from her face, “I will raise them… and every day, I will tell them about the greatest mother in the world. I promise, Poornima.”

The room was heavy with grief, yet it held a quiet reverence—life and love intertwined, even in the face of loss.