Smoke curled into the warm evening air, dissolving into nothing—just like Veeresh wished his thoughts would.

He stood near the balcony outside Rehan’s private office, leaning against the railing, a cigarette balanced between two fingers. The city lights reflected in his eyes, but they didn’t soften him. Nothing ever did.

At least, nothing was supposed to.

Rehan stepped out behind him, hands folded behind his back, amusement tugging the corners of his mouth.

“Well, well,” he said. “My disciplined bodyguard is smoking tonight.”

Veeresh froze for a second, then immediately flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boot.

“Apologies, sir.”

Rehan raised an eyebrow. “Apologizing for smoking? Now that’s new.”

Veeresh didn’t reply. His jaw was clenched tight enough to crack.

Rehan stepped closer, studying him with the ease of a man who had known him for years.

“What are you thinking about, Veeresh?”

“Nothing.”

Rehan laughed softly. “Nothing? Really? Your shoulders are tensed, your eyes look like you haven’t slept, and you’re smoking like a delinquent.”

Veeresh remained silent.

Rehan’s voice softened with fatherly intuition.

“Is it… about Poornima?”

The cold mask on Veeresh’s face cracked—just a fraction.

He looked away.

“Yes,” he finally admitted, the word sounding painful on his tongue. “It’s about her.”

Rehan smiled slightly. “You always impress me with your honesty.”

Silence pressed between them, heavy, waiting.

Finally, Veeresh spoke, voice low and rough.

“I am sorry… for hurting your daughter.”

Rehan blinked slowly.

Veeresh continued before he lost the courage.

“I had no right. She didn’t deserve the way I spoke to her. I just… I didn’t want to disrespect you. I didn’t want anyone to think—”

He exhaled sharply. “I didn’t want to hurt her, but I did. I hurt her feelings more than I thought I would.”

Rehan looked at him for a long, quiet moment—like a father looking at a son who didn’t realize he was one.

“I know everything,” Rehan finally said.

Veeresh’s head snapped up.

“I saw her crying that night. I saw you walk past her like you didn’t care.”

He sighed. “But I also saw the way your hands were shaking when you came back inside.”

Veeresh stiffened.

Rehan continued gently, “It’s okay. I am not angry.”

Veeresh’s eyebrows furrowed.

“In fact,” Rehan said, “I would have had no problem if you had accepted her feelings.”

The bodyguard froze.

Rehan smiled warmly, placing a hand on Veeresh’s shoulder.

“I trust you with my daughter more than any man in this world. You’ve protected her since she was a child. I know you would never harm her.”

Veeresh swallowed hard. Something heavy lodged in his throat.

“I didn’t accept,” he whispered, “because I’m not capable of it.”

Rehan’s brows knitted in confusion.

“Those feelings… emotions… love.”

Veeresh looked down at his hands, the same hands that had held guns, knives, secrets—never hearts.

“I don’t understand them. I don’t know how to give them. I don’t know if I even deserve them.”

Rehan’s expression softened with something like sadness.

“You make me remember your father,” he said quietly. “And my sister.”

Veeresh froze.

That was the deepest Rehan had ever gone into the past they shared.

Rehan squeezed his shoulder.

“And don’t run away from your destiny, Veeresh. People like you… you can hide, but fate has a way of catching up.”

He stepped back toward the door.

“Poornima may hate you now,” Rehan said. “But life is long. You never know what waits for you.”

Veeresh didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Rehan patted his shoulder once—firm, warm, fatherly—then walked away, leaving Veeresh alone on the balcony.

The night felt colder.

His chest felt heavier.

He stared at the crushed cigarette at his feet.

If only forgetting her was as easy as stamping out a flame.

But it wasn’t.

Because she wasn’t a flame.

She was the fire that refused to go out.