Chapter 15: A Step He Chose to Take

The next morning, Veeresh walked into his office with a clarity that had not been there before.

Not complete.

But enough.

“Rayan,” he said as soon as he entered his cabin.

“Yes, sir.”

“Close the door.”

Rayan did, sensing the seriousness in his tone.

Veeresh did not sit immediately. He stood near the table, his fingers resting lightly against the edge as if organizing his thoughts before speaking.

“I met her yesterday,” he said.

Rayan understood instantly. “Poornima.”

“Yes.”

There was a brief silence.

Then Veeresh continued, his voice steady but thoughtful.

“I saw her with her son. The way she handles him. The way she speaks. The way she lets him grow without making him dependent.”

He paused for a moment.

“She is not trying to prove anything. She just does what is right.”

Rayan listened carefully.

“And?” he asked.

Veeresh finally looked at him.

“I am considering her,” he said. “Not for myself first. For Mannat.”

The honesty in that sentence made the air shift.

Rayan nodded slowly. “It makes sense.”

Then he asked the question that mattered.

“How will you make her agree?”

Veeresh’s expression did not change, but there was a quiet confidence in his eyes.

“I know how to do that,” he said calmly. “I will handle it.”

Rayan did not question further.

He knew that tone.

Once Veeresh decided something, he did not step back easily.

Later that day, Veeresh returned to the Thakur mansion.

Yashoda and Rajeev were in the living room when he walked in.

Yashoda looked up, slightly surprised. “You came early.”

Veeresh walked toward them without responding immediately. He took out his phone, opened a picture, and held it out.

“Look at this,” he said.

Yashoda took the phone.

Her eyes rested on the image.

Poornima.

Calm. Composed. Unaware of being observed.

Rajeev leaned slightly closer, looking at the picture as well.

“Who is she?” he asked.

Veeresh sat down across from them, his posture straight, his tone clear.

“Her name is Poornima,” he said. “She is a professor in Jodhpur. She is a widow. She has a three year old son.”

Yashoda’s eyes softened instantly.

“She lives with her in laws,” Veeresh continued. “They are supportive. They did not blame her for her husband’s death.”

He paused, choosing his words carefully.

“I have seen her. Not just her background. Her as a person.”

Yashoda looked at him more closely now.

“And?” she asked quietly.

Veeresh held her gaze.

“She is calm. Patient. Strong in a quiet way. The way she handles her child…” he paused briefly, as if recalling the moment, “it is natural. Not forced.”

Rajeev leaned back slightly, observing his son.

“You are thinking about her for marriage,” he said.

It was not a question.

Veeresh did not deny it.

“I am thinking about her for Mannat,” he replied.

The room fell silent.

Yashoda’s grip on the phone tightened slightly.

“For Mannat?” she repeated softly.

“Yes,” Veeresh said. “She needs someone who can give her what I cannot.”

That sentence carried more weight than anything else he had said before.

Yashoda looked at the photo again.

Then at him.

There was a quiet relief in her eyes.

“She looks kind,” she said.

“She is,” Veeresh replied.

Rajeev nodded slowly. “And you?”

Veeresh did not answer immediately.

Then he said, “That is not the priority right now.”

Yashoda understood.

More than he realized.

“She has a child,” she said gently.

“I know.”

“You will have to accept him as your own.”

Veeresh’s answer came without hesitation.

“If she comes into this house, her son comes with her.”

That was final.

That was him.

Yashoda placed the phone down, her expression softer than it had been in a long time.

“Then talk to her,” she said quietly. “But do not force her.”

Veeresh nodded.

That night, his room was silent again.

But this time, it was not uncertain.

It was decided.

He picked up his phone and dialed the number.

The call rang for a few seconds.

Then it connected.

“Hello,” Poornima’s voice came, calm as always.

“Poornima,” Veeresh said.

She recognized the voice immediately. “Mr. Veeresh?”

“Yes.”

A brief pause followed.

“I want to talk to you,” he said.

There was no hesitation in his tone.

No unnecessary words.

“When?” she asked.

“Now,” he replied. “Come to the address I have sent you.”

Another pause.

Not long.

But enough to hold meaning.

“This is important,” he added, his voice steady but firm.

Poornima did not respond immediately.

Something in his tone made her understand that this was not a casual conversation.

“Alright,” she said finally.

“I will come.”

The call ended.

Veeresh lowered the phone slowly.

His expression did not change.

But inside,

Everything had already begun.