The mehndi ceremony was in full swing. Laughter, music, and the fragrance of henna filled the Rathore mansion. The mehndi artist carefully drew intricate patterns on Kavya’s hands while Poornima stood beside her, watching lovingly.

“Beta, do you want to eat something?” Poornima asked softly.

Kavya smiled faintly. “No, Ma… not hungry right now.”

“Have some juice at least,” Poornima said, concerned.

“Later, Ma,” Kavya replied gently, her eyes still on her mehndi.

Poornima smiled and nodded. “Okay, later then,” she said, brushing a loose strand of hair from Kavya’s forehead.

Just then, a cheerful voice echoed from behind. “Guess who’s here?”

Before Poornima could turn, Abhi came and kissed her cheek playfully. She gasped, surprised, and then broke into a warm, wide smile. “Abhi!” she said happily, hugging him tightly. “How are you, beta?”

“I’m good, Mom,” Abhi said, smiling brightly. “And you look beautiful as always.”

Veeresh, who had been standing a few steps away, noticed the affectionate scene and felt something stir inside him—a quiet curiosity mixed with something he couldn’t quite name. He walked toward them.

Abhi noticed him approaching and looked at Poornima. “Who’s this, Poons?” he asked casually.

Poornima smiled softly. “My husband… Veeresh Singh.”

Abhi immediately straightened, his playful expression turning respectful. “Oh! Hi, sir. Namaste,” he said politely.

Poornima chuckled and introduced him. “He’s Abhimanyu… my son.”

Veeresh’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “You have two sons?” he asked.

Abhi laughed and shook his head. “No, sir. Anand is her only son. I’m her adopted one.”

Poornima smiled and lightly pulled his ear. “You’re my son, Abhi. No ‘adopted’ anything.”

Veeresh couldn’t help but smile at the warmth between them. “Deputy Collector now, right?” Poornima added proudly. “He’s working in Delhi.”

Abhi nodded with a grin. “Yes, and I’m so happy for you, Mom. You finally got someone who deserves you.”

Poornima’s heart swelled at his words, her eyes misty with pride and love.

Veeresh chuckled softly. “Don’t call me ‘sir,’ Abhi,” he said.

Abhi grinned mischievously. “Okay then… I’ll call you Dad.”

Veeresh laughed, and even Poornima couldn’t help but smile wider, feeling the heaviness of the past few days fade just a little.

For the first time, it felt like a real family—unexpected, imperfect, but full of warmth