Chapter 29 A Victory That Slipped Away

The entire house was awake before sunrise.

The television was on.

Phones kept ringing.

Every channel, every conversation, every moment carried the same tension.

Election results day.

Poornima sat in the living room, her fingers tightly clasped together, her eyes fixed on the screen. The numbers kept changing, leads shifting, constituencies flipping.

But her focus was on one name.

One result.

Veeresh.

At the party office, the atmosphere was no different.

Leaders stood around screens, workers moved in and out, updates being shouted, numbers being calculated again and again.

Veeresh stood slightly apart.

Calm on the outside.

But waiting.

For one final confirmation.

For one result that mattered.

His phone buzzed continuously, but he ignored most of it.

Because in his mind…

There was only one thought.

“If I win… I will go to her first.”

Not the party.

Not the media.

Her.

Back at home, Poornima whispered a quiet prayer under her breath.

“Please…”

She did not even complete the sentence.

She didn’t need to.

Her eyes remained fixed on the screen.

The final round of counting began.

The numbers narrowed.

The margin reduced.

Silence filled both spaces.

The party office.

And the home.

Then the result flashed.

Final.

Confirmed.

The opposition party had won.

Veeresh’s party, the Jan Shakti Party…

Lost.

By 100 votes.

Just 100.

The room at the office fell silent.

No one spoke immediately.

Some looked away.

Some lowered their heads.

The difference was too small.

Too cruel.

Too close to victory.

Veeresh did not move.

He just stood there.

Looking at the screen.

100 votes.

After everything.

After every rally.

Every speech.

Every sleepless night.

Gone.

In a number that felt insignificant to others…

But devastating to him.

At home, Poornima stared at the screen.

Her breath caught.

“No…”

The word slipped out softly.

Her fingers tightened.

He had worked so hard.

She had seen it.

Felt it.

Lived it with him.

And now…

This.

Her chest tightened as she imagined him.

Standing there.

Silent.

Taking it all in.

She knew him enough now.

He would not shout.

He would not break in front of others.

He would stand.

Calm.

Controlled.

And carry it alone.

That thought hurt more.

“He will be broken,” she whispered.

Without wasting another second, she stood up.

Her decision was instant.

Clear.

“I need to go to him.”

Not later.

Not after things settled.

Now.

Because she knew one thing for certain—

Right now…

He would not ask for anyone.

But he needed someone.

And she was not going to let him stand alone in that moment.