As they descended the temple steps, the breeze had softened, carrying the faint smell of jasmine and ghee lamps. Veeresh walked beside Poornima, his expression thoughtful — too quiet for her liking.

After a few moments, he spoke, his voice low and steady.

“Do you really think what that old lady said will come true?”

Poornima turned to him, surprised. “Which part?”

He gave a faint chuckle that didn’t reach his eyes. “The part where she said we’ll be blessed with three children soon.” He looked away, shaking his head slightly. “Poornima, I’m fifty, and you’re forty-five. We have grown-up children who are already married. It sounds… impossible.”

Poornima didn’t know how to respond. His tone wasn’t mocking — it carried something deeper. Confusion. Maybe even fear.

She smiled softly, trying to ease his worry. “Some things are beyond our understanding, Veeresh. Let’s just… leave it to destiny.”

He nodded slowly, staring into the horizon. “You’re right. Whatever happens, let it happen.”

A quiet pause lingered between them — the kind that comes after too many unspoken feelings. Then, suddenly, his gaze fell on her waist.

His eyes narrowed. “Where’s your waist chain?”

Poornima blinked, taken aback. “What?”

Veeresh stepped closer, gently lifting the edge of her pallu. His expression hardened when he didn’t see the chain he himself had made her wear with such pride.

His jaw tightened, and before she could speak, he turned abruptly and began walking toward the car, anger flickering in his eyes.

“Veeresh, listen!” Poornima hurried after him, her voice laced with worry. “It’s not what you think.”

He stopped but didn’t turn around.

“I—it had become loose,” she explained softly. “I gave it to the jeweller to fix. I was going to collect it today.”

For a moment, Veeresh stayed still, shoulders tense. Then he exhaled slowly and looked at her.

“Next time,” he said firmly, “never remove it.”

Poornima lowered her eyes and nodded. “I won’t.”

His anger melted into quiet concern, and he looked at her one last time before walking toward the car. She followed silently, her heart still racing, not from fear — but from the strange intensity in his voice.

Neither spoke on the drive back. The temple bells echoed faintly behind them as the car turned toward Singh Mansion, where destiny seemed to be silently writing its next chapter.