The morning sun streamed gently through the curtains as Poornima stood before the mirror, draping a beautiful red saree that shimmered faintly in the light. It was simple yet elegant — a saree gifted by her father-in-law, Veerendra Singh. She wore the bangles he had placed in her hands during the wedding and small gold earrings that matched her gentle grace.

She adjusted her pallu when Veeresh entered the room. He stopped for a moment, watching her quietly — the way the red saree framed her face, the soft glow of sindur in her hairline.

“You look… beautiful,” he said softly.

Poornima turned slightly, shyly smiling. “It’s your family’s saree. I just wore it.”

Veeresh stepped closer, holding a small box. “There’s something missing,” he said.

Before she could ask, he gently lifted the edge of her saree and clasped a delicate gold waist chain around her. His fingers brushed against her skin lightly, and Poornima froze, her heart skipping.

“Veeresh…” she whispered, startled.

He looked into her eyes and said quietly, “Don’t remove it. It belongs to you now.”

Poornima looked down, her eyes glistening slightly. She couldn’t find words — only the faint sound of her bangles echoed between them.

Veeresh smiled faintly, though his eyes seemed heavy. “You know,” he said, voice trembling a little, “I feel… strange. My daughter is leaving me today.”

Poornima turned toward him, her heart softening. She placed a gentle hand on his arm and said, “Don’t cry, Veeresh. If you do… she won’t be happy.”

He nodded slowly, trying to smile again. “You’re right,” he whispered.

For a moment, silence filled the room — the kind of silence that carried warmth, not distance. The red saree swayed softly as Poornima turned back to the mirror, and Veeresh stood behind her, his reflection meeting hers — two people bound not by old customs, but by a quiet, growing understanding.