That night, the mansion was quiet except for Poornima pacing softly in the dining room. On the table, dinner waited—warm, untouched—and beside it sat a small bowl of chocolate pudding she had carefully prepared, remembering Anaya’s words.

The clock struck ten when the sound of the front door finally echoed through the hall. Veeresh walked in, shoulders tense, his expression unreadable.

“Dinner is ready,” Poornima said gently, her voice carrying more hope than command.

“I already ate,” he muttered, brushing past her.

But Poornima stepped forward and caught his hand. “No, you didn’t. I know you, Veeresh. Please… come.”

His jaw clenched. “Leave my hand, Poornima. I told you, it was wrong to expect. My fault.”

Her grip tightened. She pulled him closer, eyes steady despite the sting in her chest.

“I said I’m sorry. Sit. Just once, listen to me.”

For a moment, he stared at her, fighting the storm within him. Finally, he sat down without another word.

Poornima served him carefully, placing the food in front of him as if it were an offering of peace. He ate in silence, but when she brought out the chocolate pudding, his eyes betrayed him—lighting up, softening for a heartbeat before his mask returned.

“You don’t need to pretend,” Poornima said quietly, catching his expression.

Before she could say more, Veeresh grabbed her wrist, pulling her into his lap. His lips crashed against hers in a deep, hungry kiss. Poornima gasped, but her heart gave in and she kissed him back, her fingers trembling against his chest.

He tasted her slowly, then licked her lips with a smirk.

“Chocolate tastes good,” he whispered, voice husky.

Blushing, Poornima pushed him away slightly, but her smile betrayed her.

For the first time that day, the weight between them eased—sweetened by love, chocolate, and unspoken promises.