Ved had learned one cruel truth over the past five years:
Distance does not erase love.
It only teaches it how to hide.
That was why he had never truly walked away from Kashvi's life.
Without her knowledge, Ved had stationed a trusted assistant in London. The man's role was simple—observe, report, and remain invisible. Ved never interfered. He never called. He never appeared.
He only watched.
Every detail reached him quietly.
Kashvi's professional growth.
Her public appearances.
Krish's constant presence beside Kriday.
The life she had built without him.
Ved absorbed it all in silence.
Until one evening, when everything changed.
London
Kashvi stood before the mirror, adjusting her attire. She looked composed, confident—nothing like the woman she once was. Yet her heart felt heavy, tired of carrying unanswered questions and unfinished emotions.
She walked into the living room where Krish sat beside Kriday, helping him with his homework.
"Krish, I need to talk to you."
Krish looked up immediately, sensing the seriousness in her voice.
Kriday quietly walked into his room, leaving them alone.
For a moment, silence filled the space.
Then Kashvi spoke.
"I don't want to keep running anymore. Not from my past. Not from my life."
Krish listened carefully, without interrupting.
"You have stood beside me for five years—without expectations, without pressure. I know I never gave you the place you deserved."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"But if you are willing… I want to move forward."
Krish stepped closer.
"I don't want your past, Kashvi," he said calmly.
"I want the present you choose… and the future you believe in."
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
"Will you marry me?"
Krish did not answer immediately. He studied her face—searching for certainty, not fear.
Then he nodded.
"Yes."
The wedding date was finalized.
Two months.
A quiet ceremony.
Private.
Safe.
Kriday was overjoyed.
"Will Krish become my father?" he asked one night.
Kashvi paused, then pulled him into her arms.
"Yes, my love."
India
Ved's assistant stood across from him, hesitant.
"Sir… Kashvi ma'am's marriage has been finalized."
"The wedding is in two months."
"With Krish."
For a long moment, Ved said nothing.
Then he slowly stood up.
"Book a flight," he said firmly.
"To London. Immediately."
The assistant hesitated.
"Sir—"
"Now."
Ved stared out of the window, his reflection staring back at him—older, sharper, haunted.
"I lost her once because I was weak," he whispered.
"I will not lose my son…
and I will not lose her again without fighting."