Chapter 62 — Colors of Belonging

We walked back into the house together—no explanations needed.

The moment the door opened, chaos followed in the best way possible.

“Mom!”
“Dad!”
“Finally!”

Rudra was the first to rush in, followed by Ramir and Mannat, and then Kayan and Kavya. Laughter echoed through the living room, that kind of laughter that only exists when a family finally breathes the same air again.

It was Holi.

The house was already alive with colors, plates filled with gulal, music humming softly in the background. For the first time in days, everything felt light.

Veeresh stopped everyone with a raised hand and that familiar authoritative smile.
“Wait.”

All eyes turned to him.

“The first color,” he said, looking straight at me, “will be applied by my wife. Only her.”

My heart skipped. I picked up the red gulal—bright, bold, unmistakable—and stepped closer. Slowly, deliberately, I applied it to his cheeks. He didn’t move. He just watched me, eyes soft, proud.

“My turn,” he said.

Before I could react, he applied color to my face and gently smeared it along my hairline, the most intimate gesture hidden inside tradition.

“Happy Holi, Mrs. Veeresh,” he whispered.

I smiled—wide, real, unguarded.

“Happy Holi,” I replied.

That was all the permission the kids needed.

Colors flew everywhere. Rudra chased Ramir across the lawn. Mannat teamed up with Kavya. Kayan laughed so hard he nearly fell. Someone smeared blue on Veeresh’s shirt; someone else got pink in my hair.

And in the middle of it all, Veeresh slipped his hand into mine.

Not possessive. Not loud.

Just certain.

For the first time in a long time, it wasn’t about past wounds or future fears.

It was just us—
a family painted in love, laughter, and colors that finally stayed.