Chapter 25: Please Stay

Poornima turned toward the door.

She didn’t trust herself to speak—not yet. The weight of his words, the midnight confession, the past rushing back all at once—it was too much.

Her hand reached for the handle.

“Poornima—”

Veeresh moved instinctively, catching her wrist. Not forceful. Not desperate. Just afraid.

“Please don’t leave,” he said, voice breaking. “I can’t… I’m done pretending.”

She turned back, startled.

And then she saw it.

His eyes were wet. Not dramatic tears—quiet ones, the kind that came after holding everything in for too long.

She froze.

“Please,” he whispered again.

Poornima swallowed hard. Her voice came out softer than she intended. “Veer… please stop crying.”

She gently tried to steady him, her own hands trembling.

“This is not easy,” she said carefully. “We both have children. They need to—”

“Your kids are okay,” he interrupted, almost urgently. “They gave me permission.”

Her breath caught. “What?”

“When did this happen?” she asked, disbelief clear in her voice.

“A long time ago,” he admitted. “They come here often. Almost daily.”

She stared at him, stunned.

He took her hand—still gentle, still asking, not demanding.

“You really brought them up beautifully, Poornima,” he said, emotion flooding his voice. “They are mature. Sweet. Balanced.”

A faint, shaken smile touched his lips. “And they make the best biriyani.”

Despite herself, her eyes softened.

“I felt so happy when they came here,” he continued. “So alive. I never shared that kind of bond with my own kids.”

He looked away briefly, shame and longing crossing his face.

“Rudra is my favorite person,” he admitted quietly. “Ramir and Mannat too—but Rudra… he lights up the room. They don’t hesitate to do household work. No ego. No bias.”

He looked back at her. “I was happy, Poornima. Truly happy.”

She whispered his name again, a warning this time. “Veeresh—”

“Listen to me,” he said, voice trembling but firm. “I love you. And I’m scared.”

He exhaled sharply.

“My marriage with my ex-wife became loveless—even though it was a love marriage. My kids prefer being with their mom. I want to be with them, I try… but there’s distance.”

His voice cracked. “I don’t want to be alone again.”

He loosened his grip, giving her space—but not letting go emotionally.

“Please stay,” he said softly. “Not forever. Not with promises. Just… don’t walk away like this.”

Poornima stood there, heart pounding.

She wasn’t angry.

She wasn’t flattered.

She wasn’t ready.

But she saw him—truly saw him.

A man asking not for possession, but for presence.

And for the first time in years, Poornima realized something terrifying:

Walking away would be easier.

Staying would require courage.

She didn’t answer yet.

But she didn’t leave either.