Chapter Twelve: Terms of Something Unfamiliar

Morning came with its usual rhythm, but Poornima Singh Mewar felt anything but usual.

She chose routine over emotion—again.

By the time she stepped into Saffron Ember, the place was already alive with its quiet elegance. Staff moved efficiently, the aroma of spices filled the air, and everything looked exactly the way she had built it to be—controlled, predictable, hers.

Until she saw him.

Veeresh Rathore.

Waiting.

Not sitting casually.
Not distracted.

Waiting for her.

For a brief second, her steps faltered—but only for a second. Then her expression hardened into calm indifference, and she walked past him as if he didn’t exist.

“Poornima.”

His voice followed.

She didn’t stop.

Not until—

His hand closed around her wrist.

Firm. Unyielding.

She turned sharply, her eyes flashing. “Leave me.”

But Veeresh didn’t.

Without a word, he led her—almost pulled her—toward a private cabin inside the restaurant. The door shut behind them with a quiet finality.

“Let go of me,” she said again, her voice low but edged.

Instead, he stepped closer.

Too close.

Cornering her—not aggressively, but in a way that left no space to escape the conversation.

“Listen.”

His voice was calm. Direct.

Not asking.

Telling.

“I don’t love you.”

The words should have hurt.

But they didn’t.

Because she hadn’t expected love.

“Maybe we will,” he continued, his gaze steady on hers. “In the process.”

A pause.

“But before you reject this… you should know something.”

Her breath slowed slightly, confusion flickering beneath her guarded expression.

“I know about your past,” he said.

Silence.

Poornima froze.

“I know everything,” he added.

Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.

“And I don’t care.”

That…

That made her look up.

Really look at him.

“My parents,” he went on, “they like you. They respect you.”

His tone didn’t soften—but it wasn’t harsh either.

“And this marriage…”

A small pause.

“It may not start with love.”

His eyes held hers, unwavering.

“But it will become something.”

Poornima let out a quiet breath, her voice finally breaking through.

“You’re saying all this like it’s… simple.”

“It’s not,” he replied instantly.

And then—

Something shifted.

He stepped back slightly, reaching for her hand.

She instinctively tried to pull away—but he was quicker.

He slid the ring off her finger.

Poornima’s heart skipped.

“Veeresh—what are you—”

“I’m not done.”

His voice stopped her.

For the first time, there was no arrogance in it.

Just… honesty.

Raw and unfiltered.

“I am not husband material.”

The words were blunt.

“I am not the man you write about in your stories.”

Her eyes widened slightly.

He noticed.

But didn’t explain how he knew.

“I drink,” he continued. “I smoke. I have habits that you won’t like.”

A pause.

“I’ve already lived a life you probably don’t agree with.”

He held her gaze deliberately.

“I’m flawed.”

No hesitation.
No denial.

Just truth.

“I don’t believe in fairy tales.”

His voice lowered slightly.

“I built walls… a long time ago. And I don’t know how to take them down.”

For the first time—

Poornima didn’t see the powerful businessman.

She saw the man behind him.

Complicated. Guarded. Real.

“But one thing…” he said, his tone steady again, “I will be honest with you.”

His grip on her hand tightened slightly—not painful, but certain.

“I will fight. I will get angry. I might take out my frustration on you.”

Her brows furrowed.

“But I will never leave.”

That line landed.

Different from everything else.

“I won’t walk away over misunderstandings,” he added. “And I will be loyal.”

Silence filled the room.

Not empty—

But heavy with everything he had just laid bare.

Slowly, deliberately—

He took her hand again.

And slid the ring back onto her finger.

This time…

Not as a decision made in a hall full of people.

But as something said directly to her.

“Say something, Poornima.”

His voice was quieter now.

Not demanding.

Waiting.

For a moment, she couldn’t speak.

Because nothing in her life had prepared her for this.

Not honesty like this.
Not acceptance like this.

“I… don’t know what to say,” she admitted finally, her voice soft, uncertain.

“This is new to me.”

Her fingers lightly touched the ring, as if confirming it was real.

Veeresh watched her for a second.

And then—

“We’ll figure it out.”

Simple.

Not poetic.
Not dramatic.

Just… real.

He stepped back, giving her space for the first time since she had walked in.

“I don’t want an engagement,” he added, his tone returning to its usual decisiveness.

Her head lifted slightly.

“We’re getting married.”

No hesitation.
No doubt.

Just certainty.

Poornima stared at him.

Because this man—

Was not offering her a dream.

He was offering her something far more dangerous.

Reality.

And somewhere deep within her…

For reasons she didn’t yet understand—

She didn’t reject it.