A few weeks passed after that day.

The air around their lives felt lighter, calmer — as if years of bitterness had finally washed away.

Veeresh often visited his mother with Poornima. Sometimes, they’d sit together in the garden, sipping tea as the autumn breeze brushed past. She would talk about his childhood, laugh at old memories, and watch them both with soft eyes that spoke only love.

But t59ime was cruel. Her health began to fade faster than anyone expected.

One evening, Veeresh and Poornima received a call from the hospital. Without wasting a second, they rushed there.

His mother lay on the bed, frail but smiling. Her father sat beside her, holding her hand. Veeresh walked close, and she touched his face with trembling fingers.

“My son… I told you I would go peacefully once I saw you both together.”

Veeresh’s throat tightened. “Don’t say that, Mom. You’re going to be fine,” he whispered, fighting back the tears.

Poornima stood near her feet, her hands trembling, tears silently slipping down.

His mother looked at Poornima, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Take care of him. He’s strong outside, but soft within. You are his calm, Poornima.”

Poornima nodded through her tears, holding her hand.

“I promise, Maa.”

His mother smiled weakly and reached for a small envelope kept under her pillow.

“This… is for you both. Open it after I’m gone.”

Veeresh shook his head, “Don’t talk like that—”

But before he could finish, she whispered her last words, her voice filled with peace,

“I love you both… my children.”

Her hand slowly slipped from his grasp.

The monitor fell silent.

The world around Veeresh blurred. He held her tightly, sobbing, the pain raw and unbearable. Poornima held him from behind, her tears falling into his shoulder as she whispered,

“She’s at peace, Veeresh… she saw her family whole.”

Days later, when the rituals were done, Poornima gave him the envelope. Veeresh opened it with trembling hands. Inside was a letter, written in her gentle handwriting:

---

“My dearest Veeresh and Poornima,

If you are reading this, I have gone where no pain exists.

Veeresh, my son, you were my pride even from afar. The fire in you, the silence, the hurt — all made you who you are. But now, let love guide you. Don’t let pain build walls again.

Poornima, my daughter, thank you for healing him. For standing by him when no one else could. You’re his balance, his heart.

Together, live — truly live. Don’t let your love fade in silence or pride.

Build a family, laugh often, and when you miss me, just look at the stars… I’ll be smiling there.

With all my love,

Mom.”

---

Veeresh folded the letter and held it close to his chest.

Poornima hugged him, whispering, “She’s proud of you, Veeresh. Of us.”

He nodded, eyes filled with tears.

That night, as they sat together under the London sky, he looked up at the stars and whispered,

“I love you, Mom.”

Poornima rested her head on his shoulder, her hand wrapped around his — and for the first time, they both felt complete.