Chapter 42: When “Yours” Became “Ours”

Veeresh closed the door behind him gently.

The room felt warm, familiar—theirs now.

Poornima was sitting near the window, folding clothes slowly, her movements calm but her eyes curious. She looked up the moment she sensed him.

“Veer…?”

He walked straight to her, his face glowing in a way she hadn’t seen before.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, voice thick with emotion.

She put the clothes aside instantly.
“What happened?”

He sat beside her and took her hands.

“William, Charles, and Mannat came to my study,” he began.
“They gave me letters.”

Her heart skipped.

“They called me Dada… but wrote father.”
His voice broke slightly.
“They said they never knew what a dad felt like… and now they do.”

Tears filled his eyes, unashamed.

“They hugged me, Poornima,” he whispered.
“They called me theirs.”

She covered her mouth, tears spilling freely now.

Before he could say more, she held his face.

“Veer… even Siya, Samarth, and Rudra came to me today,” she said, voice trembling.
“They said they feel safe with me. That they want me forever.”

She swallowed hard.

“Rudra said I’m his mother. Not step… just mother.”

Veeresh exhaled slowly, overwhelmed.

“They chose us,” she continued softly.
“They trusted us.”

He pulled her into his arms, resting his forehead against hers.

“Thank you,” he whispered.
“For loving them without conditions.”

She shook her head.

“No… thank you,” she said, tears sliding down.
“When Paul died, they were so small. I prayed every night… not for money, not for strength—just that my children find a father.”

She looked straight into his eyes.

“And now you are here.”

Her voice broke completely.

“I am very happy, Veeresh.”

He cupped her face gently.

“Our kids,” he corrected softly.

Something in her heart melted at that single word.

He kissed her cheek slowly, then the other, lingering—full of gratitude, respect, and affection. Then he leaned in and captured her lips, not rushed, not demanding—just happy.

When he pulled back, a smile played on his lips.

“I am happy,” he said honestly.

Then, just like him—unfiltered, warm, real—he pinched her waist lightly.

She gasped, startled.
“Veer!”

He chuckled and tickled her gently until she laughed, breathless.

“You,” he said, resting his forehead against hers,
“are the best thing that has happened to me.”

She smiled through tears, resting her head on his chest.

And for the first time in a long time, both of them knew—

They weren’t healing alone anymore.
They were healing together.