By the time they reached Singh Haveli, dusk had fallen softly across the marble courtyard. The evening lamps glowed like little stars, and Veeresh’s face had finally softened.

Inside, Veeresh sat with his father and told him everything — from the old woman’s prophecy to his own doubts.

Veerendra listened quietly and smiled with calm wisdom.

“Some things,” he said, sipping his tea, “are not meant to be questioned. Leave it to destiny, beta. What has to happen will happen.”

Poornima came from her room just then, holding a small velvet pouch. She walked up to Veeresh and said softly,

“I got it repaired… your waist chain.”

Veeresh looked at her for a moment, then nodded. Poornima extended it to him, but he didn’t take it — instead, he said quietly,

“Turn around.”

Her heart skipped once, but she did as he said. Veeresh gently lifted her pallu aside and fastened the chain around her waist. His fingers brushed lightly against her skin, steady and respectful, yet full of unspoken warmth.

“It’s secure now,” he said.

Poornima’s cheeks flushed faintly. “Yes,” she whispered, “it won’t come off again.”

Dinner that night was calm — laughter from Veerendra, a few light words from Veeresh, and Poornima quietly serving them all. There was peace in the air that hadn’t been there before.

Later, in their room, the silence of night wrapped around them. The moonlight spilled through the curtains, silvering everything in its glow. Veeresh lay beside her, half-asleep, his hand resting gently across her waist — not in desire, but in a quiet, protective way, as if assuring her she was safe.

Poornima turned slightly, looking at his calm face.

A small smile touched her lips.

“Maybe he’s not like Pavan,” she thought.

“Maybe this time… life has sent me someone who truly sees me.”

And with that comforting thought, she closed her eyes and drifted into a peaceful sleep.