The morning sunlight poured softly into the Singh Haveli, washing everything in gold.

Poornima moved quietly around the dining table, serving breakfast to Veerendra and Veeresh. She smiled faintly when Veerendra complimented the idlis, and Veeresh, though silent, looked more at peace than usual.

After breakfast, Veerendra wiped his hands and said warmly,

“Poornima, Veeresh — I’m going out with Pratap. We’ve got an old friends’ reunion in Mysore. I’ll be back in two days. You both take care of each other, hmm?”

Poornima and Veeresh exchanged small smiles and nodded.

“Sure, Papa,” Veeresh said.

“Have a safe journey,” Poornima added softly, folding her hands.

Once the car rolled away, silence gently settled over the haveli. The air was calm, filled with the rustle of leaves and distant temple bells.

Poornima brewed two cups of strong coffee and carried them to the garden. The grass glistened under morning dew, and the air smelled of jasmine. Veeresh was already there, seated under the neem tree, staring at the fountain.

She placed a cup beside him. “Here,” she said gently.

He looked up, his face thoughtful. “Thank you,” he murmured, taking the cup. For a while, they sipped in silence — two people who had been through storms, now sitting in calm waters.

Then Veeresh exhaled deeply.

“Poornima… I usually drink only when my friends and I meet. Last night was a reunion — it brought back old memories. That’s why…” he paused, then looked at her, voice softer, “I didn’t mean to come home that way.”

Poornima shook her head lightly. “It’s okay.”

But he wasn’t done. He put his cup down and said with quiet honesty,

“I’m sorry. For the words I said before. I only wanted you to open up, to live like a married woman — not someone still scared to love again. But I know I went overboard. I shouldn’t have forced you.”

Her eyes glistened, his sincerity breaking through her silence.

Veeresh’s voice deepened, low but steady.

“I will never abandon you, Poornima. Not for time, not for anyone. You have my word.”

Her throat tightened. Before she could speak, he continued, eyes distant.

“My marriage before… it wasn’t what people think. Meera and I were never at peace. Always chaos, always fighting. Even after Kavya was born, nothing changed. But you—” he looked at her, a faint warmth in his gaze, “you understand me without me having to say anything. That’s rare.”

The emotion in his tone made Poornima’s heart ache softly.

Then, slowly — almost as if drawn by an invisible pull — Veeresh leaned forward.

Poornima froze, her heart pounding. His hand brushed her cheek, hesitating only for a moment before closing the distance.

His lips touched hers — gentle, unsure, but filled with all the emotions they had both held back for too long.

Poornima’s eyes fluttered shut. The hesitation melted into something warm, something real. She kissed him back, softly at first — then with quiet happiness, tears slipping down her cheeks.

When the kiss broke, she rested her head against his chest. His arms wrapped around her, firm and protective.

For the first time in years, both felt peace — not passion, not guilt — but the comfort of being truly seen.

The garden wind carried the scent of coffee and jasmine around them, as two souls who had known loss finally began to heal in each other’s warmth.