Now, the next chapter after this target is completed.

Today's target -.
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HERE IT IS!!! THE SURPRISE UPDATE!!! BECAUSE GUESS WHAT? WE JUST HIT 3 MILLION READS ON THIS BOOK!!! AHHHHH!!! I'M VERY, VERY, VERY, VERY HAPPY RIGHT NOW!!! You all have no idea how much this means to me!! Thank you for reading, supporting, and making this journey so special!

Also, since you've read my last message (from the last chapter), I want to remind you all to follow me on Instagram and my backup Wattpad ID! Authorroyy_
INSTAGRAM-

You must follow me there because-God forbid-but if anything ever happens, we need to stay connected. These are the only sources where we can still find each other, so don't miss out!

And of course, don't forget to follow me Wattpad too! (This id) LET'S KEEP THIS JOURNEY GOING!!!

______________________________________

Hindi-
ख़ुदा
क्या खूब रब ने किया
बिन मांगे इतना दिया
वरना है मिलता कहाँ
हम काफिरों को ख़ुदा
हसरतें अब मेरी
तुमसे है जा मिली
तुम दुआ अब मेरी
आखिरी बन गए
हाँ हसीं बन गए
हाँ नमी बन गए
तुम मेरे आसमां
मेरी ज़मीं बन गए
ओ-ओ-

____/__________________________

I stood there, my eyes following her back as she walked away. Something about her still weighed on my mind, like a whisper I couldn't quite catch.

And then-a hand on my shoulder.

Warm. Steady. Familiar.

I turned around. Sidharth ji

He was smiling-softly, gently.

"Chaliye."
(Let's go)

The warmth in his voice, the way his eyes held mine-it pulled me back. Like a thread had snapped, and I was suddenly here, in this moment, standing beside him.

He took my hand with a warm smile that was enough to make me smile back.

We started walking toward the car. The temple steps felt cool beneath my feet, and the air was still heavy with the scent of incense.

For a moment, I turned back.

She was gone.

There was no trace of her. There was no sign that she had ever been there.

A strange feeling passed through me, but before I could think too much about it, I heard the quiet click of the car door opening.

I looked forward again.

Sidharth ji was standing beside the car, holding the door open for me.

I sat inside.

The moment I did, it was as if the world outside didn't matter anymore. The air inside was quieter, warmer. The weight of Siddharth ji's presence filled the space, wrapping around me like something unspoken, something steady.

He walked around the car and took his seat beside me.

And then, his fingers found mine.

Slowly, effortlessly, he interlocked our hands, his thumb brushing against my skin.

The car moved forward.
.
.
.
.
.

The car rolled to a stop, and the soft hum of the engine faded into silence. My fingers, still curled around my pallu, relaxed slightly as I turned toward Sidharth ji. He had driven all the way home without saying much, his usual composed self, but I had caught him stealing glances at me more than once. It made my heart flutter in a way I was getting used to.

I smiled at him, warmth seeping into my voice as I said, "Jaldi aayega."
(Come back soon.)

With that, I reached for the door handle, my seatbelt already unfastened. But just as I was about to step out, I felt a gentle tug on my hand. My head snapped back toward him, my brown eyes meeting his blue ones, now glinting with something undeniably playful. A teasing smile curved on his lips, and before I could question him, he spoke.

"Aap kehengi to jaunga hi nahi."
(If you tell me to, I won't go at all.)

Heat rushed to my cheeks at his words. The way he said it-so effortlessly, as if he enjoyed watching me get flustered-made my fingers twitch. Without thinking, I lifted my other hand and gave a light slap to his chest.

"Aap se bas baatein karwa lo, jaiye ab."
(All you do is talk, now go.)

I tried to pull my hand away, but before I could, he tightened his grip, and in the next moment, he tugged me with a little more force. Caught off guard, I stumbled slightly toward him, my bangles clinking against each other, filling the car with a soft chiming sound. My breath hitched as I found myself leaning closer, the small space between us vanishing.

The teasing smile on his lips was gone.

In its place was something darker, deeper-something that made my heart stutter. Before I could fully comprehend the shift, he leaned down, his lips capturing mine in a kiss. My mind blanked for a second. The warmth of his lips, the way he held me so effortlessly, left me utterly still. It wasn't rushed, nor too deep-just enough to make my breath uneven. By the time I processed what was happening, he had already pulled back.

His voice was a murmur, deep and slightly rough.

"Sirf baatein toh nahi karta hoon main, Cherry."
(I don't just talk, Cherry.)

Before I could react, he leaned in again, brushing a kiss over my lips once-twice-thrice. Soft, fleeting, but enough to leave my pulse racing. My fingers clenched against his chest, my body betraying me with the way I remained still, drinking in the moment.

His forehead pressed against mine, his voice carrying a soft complaint laced with affection.

"Mann toh kar raha, din bhar aapke paas rahun, par zimmedariyan nahi maan rahi, Cherry. Bas aaj ke liye chhutti le lu?"
(I feel like staying with you all day, but my responsibilities won't allow it, Cherry. Should I just take the day off?)

A chuckle escaped me. I didn't mean to, but he looked so... helplessly cute, complaining like that. My hand instinctively went to his cheek, my fingers brushing lightly before I nudged his nose with mine, distracting him for a moment. When he instinctively closed his eyes at the soft touch, I pressed both hands against his chest and gave him a firm push. He let out a small exhale of surprise as I moved away and reached for the car door.

I stepped out, shutting the door behind me, then leaned against the open window, smirking as I threw a playful remark at him.

"Kaam pe jaiye aap, biwi ke aage piche karte rahenge toh sab 'joru ka ghulam' bulayenge, Siddharth ji."
(Go to work. If you keep following your wife around, people will start calling you 'a wife's servant,' Siddharth ji.)

He shifted slightly, his face moving closer to the window. A teasing smirk played on his lips, but his eyes held a knowing glint.

"Toh Noor ji, humne kab mana kiya? Aap kahe toh maathay pe likhwa lein-'Main meri joru ka ghulam.' Hmm?"
(So, Noor ji, when did I ever deny it? If you want, I can have it written on my forehead-'I am my wife's servant.' Hmm?)

My breath caught.

Heat rushed to my face, and I stared at him, utterly speechless. I had no comeback. Nothing. The way he said it-so shamelessly, with that look-left me flustered beyond words. My fingers curled into the fabric of my pallu as I turned away, muttering under my breath.

"Bawale."
(Crazy.)

I didn't wait for his reaction. My feet moved on their own as I hurried toward the house, trying to escape before he could say anything else to make me combust from embarrassment.

I had only taken a few steps when his voice rang out from behind me, loud and clear.

"Ab jaisa bhi hoon, aapka hoon, Cherry!"
(No matter how I am, I am yours, Cherry!)

I froze.

My head turned slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him through the car window. He was watching me with a grin, his blue eyes bright with amusement and something softer-something that made my heart twist painfully in my chest.

My face burned.

Without another word, I spun on my heel and rushed inside, my heartbeat pounding against my ribs. Behind me, the engine hummed to life again, and as I shut the door behind me, I heard the distant sound of his car driving away.

I placed a hand over my chest, exhaling shakily.

That man... he was going to be the death of me
.
.
.
.
.
.

The hospital loomed in front of me, its bright white walls and shining glass windows standing tall like they always had. But today, it felt suffocating. Cold. Unforgiving.

I gripped the steering wheel, my fingers digging into the leather, my jaw tight enough to ache. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The day wasn't ending fast enough.

I pushed open the car door, stepping out with sharp, controlled movements. The air smelled of antiseptic, the familiar scent that once brought me comfort. Now, it was just another reminder of how far I was from home. From her.

My Noor.

Why wasn't I home yet? Why was I still here?

Two weeks. I had been away for two fucking weeks.

And now, the work had piled up, waiting for me like some cruel joke. I should care. I used to.

The hospital was once my escape. A place where I didn't have time to think, where I drowned in work and nothing else mattered. But now? Now, it was my enemy. A damn prison keeping me away from my wife.

Noor.

My Noor.

The thought of her slammed into me like a punch, a desperate ache curling in my chest.

I exhaled sharply, my heart twisting inside my chest. Damn it. I had become something ridiculous. A man who once lived for his work, now counting every second until I could go home again. Until I could bury my face in her chest, feel her warmth, hear her heartbeat under my ear.

My feet moved on their own, fast, impatient. My coat swayed behind me as I walked through the hospital doors, my presence demanding silence. Colleagues nodded, staff whispered, but I didn't stop. Didn't acknowledge anyone.

I had no time for distractions. Not when every breath I took felt wasted without her near me.

I shoved open the door to my cabin and shut it behind me with more force than necessary. My fingers curled into fists before I dragged a sharp breath in, forcing my body to calm.

The room was exactly the same. My desk, my chair, the faint scent of old books, and sterilized air.

But I had changed.

I sat down, running a hand down my face before leaning back, eyes closing for just a second. A second too long, because the image of her flooded my mind.

Soft skin, warm arms, the scent of her hair. The way she would hold me without a word, like she knew. Like she understood everything I never said out loud.

I exhaled harshly, fingers itching to grab my keys and leave. But I couldn't. Not yet.

Sliding on my glasses, I grabbed the first file in front of me and flipped it open. My eyes scanned the words, but my mind wasn't here.

It was with her.

Just wait a little more, Cherry. I'm coming home.

A quiet chuckle left my lips as I leaned back in my chair, throwing my head back slightly. How the hell did this happen?

One month. That's all it took.

I had spent years believing I was unchangeable, that my life followed a rhythm no one could disrupt. And yet, she came like a storm, soft but relentless, shifting everything inside me without even trying.

I was a man who once sought refuge in this hospital, who buried himself in work just to escape the silence of home. Now? Now, home was the only place I wanted to be.

I didn't think much before pulling out my phone. It was instinct now-reaching for her. My thumb hovered over the screen for a second before unlocking it. The wallpaper greeted me, and my breath hitched.

It was her.

The picture was from the day we went to the Kuldevi temple. She hadn't noticed when I clicked it-her hands adorned with bangles, the morning light making them gleam as she adjusted her dupatta. She looked so innocent. So beautiful. So... mine.

I stared at the image for a few moments, a small smile playing on my lips before I finally opened my call log.

Cherry.

That was her contact name.

I pressed the call button and leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk, the phone pressed to my ear. My fingers tapped against the wood as the first ring went through. Then the second. By the third, my brows furrowed, and I pulled the phone away, staring at the screen-

"Ji?"

Her voice.

A slow exhale left my lips, and I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the irritation from the day fade. Just hearing her was enough.

"Kya kar rahi hain aap?"
(What are you doing?)

There was a pause, then a soft chuckle from her end.

"Apni book rakh rahi thi."
(I was putting my book away.)

My eyes flickered to the files in front of me, but my mind was already somewhere else. Her college. It had been sitting at the back of my head for too long.

Leaning back, I tilted my head against the chair and spoke lazily, the weight of the day melting just a little.

"Aaj ghar aata hoon toh apna college finalize kar lenge. Bahut delay ho gaya hai."
(When I come home today, we'll finalize your college. It's been delayed too much.)

She hummed in response, a quiet agreement.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn't uncomfortable-just filled with the soft rustling of papers from her end. I straightened in my seat, placing my elbows on the desk, resting my face in my palm, phone still pressed to my ear.

"Aap miss kar rahi thi mujhe?"
(Did you miss me?)

I grinned before she even answered.

A giggle. Soft and sweet. My smile didn't falter. I loved that sound. Loved that it was because of me.

"Abhi ek ghanta bhi nahi hua aapke gaye hue."
(It hasn't even been an hour since you left.)

I frowned, my expression serious even as I felt something warm curl inside me.

"Toh kya hua? Main toh kar raha hoon aapko."
(So what? I'm missing you.)

She hummed, clearly amused. "Acha?"
(Really?)

I was about to respond when a knock came at the door.

The smile on my face disappeared instantly.

I knew that pattern-it was my head nurse.

Bringing the phone away from my ear slightly, I exhaled before speaking, my voice softer.

"Ek minute, please."
(Just a minute, please.)

I could imagine her nodding on the other end as I straightened, schooling my face into something unreadable.

"Come in"

The door opened, and in walked a woman in her fifties, her posture professional as always. She greeted me with a respectful nod before speaking.

"Sir, Aryan is here for his next appointment."

I nodded once.

"Paanch minute mein bhej do."
(Send him in five minutes.)

She bowed her head slightly and left. The moment the door shut, my expression softened again.

"Breakfast kar liya aapne?"
(Did you have breakfast?)

"Ji." (Yes.)

A quiet sigh escaped me.

I didn't want to cut the call.

I wanted to stay. To talk. To listen to her voice for just a little longer. But work called.

"Theek hai, Cherry, rakhta hoon. Patients aa rahe hain. Aap dhyan rakhiyega. Main bas ek call door hoon, hmm?"
(Alright, Cherry, I'll hang up now. Patients are coming in. Take care. I'm just a call away, hmm?)

"Ji."

I hesitated for a moment before ending the call, my fingers lingering over the screen.

Two more days. That's when family would return. But until then, she was alone in that big house. Servants were there, but they weren't her people.

The door opened again, and a small figure stepped inside.

Aryan.

My eyes met his, my face now carefully neutral.

Just a few hours more, Cherry. Then I'm coming home.

As the call ended, I stared at the screen for a few moments, the warmth of her voice still lingering in my ears. I sighed, placing the phone on the table. A part of me wanted to call again, just to hear her say Ji one more time, but duty called. I had to be here, no matter how much I wanted to be there.

"Dr. Sidharth, I'm here" I heard Aryan saying & I turned to look at him.

He walked in with tiny but confident steps. His toy car clutched tightly in his little hand. Without waiting for permission, he climbed onto the chair and placed the car on the table, moving it back and forth with slow, careful motions.

I watched him, a flicker of something deep and unsettling, stirring within me. A glimpse of myself. A child, quiet, observant, holding onto something small yet precious, as if it were his entire world.

I leaned forward slightly, keeping my voice calm. "Aaj kaun aaya hai sath me?"
("Who came with you today?")

Aryan paused. His small fingers tightened around the toy car. He lifted his head, his young eyes holding a depth that no child should have. Then, with a practiced nonchalance, he shrugged.

"Mai bada ho gaya hu, mai khud aaya hu."
("I have grown up. I came on my own.")

Something twisted inside me. The words. The way he said them. The forced confidence in his voice, masking something fragile underneath. I knew that tone. I had spoken in that tone before.

I clenched my jaw, forcing the emotions down.

His parents... No. His owners. They treated him the same way he had treated me. The only difference was that I had been strong. I had been healthy. Aryan was not. And yet, they expected him to fend for himself.

"Haan haan, tum to ab bade ho gaye."
("Yes, yes, you are a big boy now.")

I said it with a small smile, hoping-no, forcing-him to believe it. Children needed words of comfort, even if they were just lies.

He nodded, focusing on his toy again.

I took a deep breath and began the check-up, my hands moving with practiced ease, but my mind was somewhere else.

No matter what happens, I will save Aryan.

I will pull him out of the hellhole he is trapped in. I don't care how, I don't care when, but I will.

With every patient, my responsibility ends at treatment. But with Aryan... it's different.

As I examined him, I kept looking at his small face. His tiny frame. The way he didn't flinch, didn't complain, didn't act like a child should.

Too quiet. Too mature.

Too much like me.

And that-more than anything-was unacceptable.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.

The meeting was over. Hours of back-to-back check-ups, the never-ending discussions about hospital statistics, and the weight of responsibilities pressing against my shoulders.

Yet, all I could think about was Aryan.

I leaned back in my chair, resting my head against the cold leather. My fingers ran through my hair, trying to push away the exhaustion settling deep in my bones.

For a moment, I let my eyes close. Just a moment.

But peace was never meant for me.

"Tumhari hasi se mujhe nafrat hai."
("I hate your smile.")

My breathing hitched. My eyes snapped open, but the room was empty.

"Aankhein kholo, Siddharth. Dekho, dekho kya haalat ki hai maine."
("Open your eyes, Siddharth. Look, look at what I have done to you.")

I swallowed hard. No. Not now.

"You are pathetic, Siddharth."

"Tum paida hi hue the ki sab ki nafrat jhel sako."
("You were born to endure everyone's hatred.")

The voices grew louder, overlapping, twisting together like a storm inside my head. A cruel, suffocating storm.

I gritted my teeth, my fists clenching against the arms of the chair.

My chest felt tight. My breath uneven.

"Shut up." My voice came out low, strained, barely a whisper.

But the voices didn't stop. They never stopped.

A shudder ran through me as I pressed my fingers against my temple. My jaw clenched, the muscles tightening painfully. I needed to breathe. I needed to ground myself.

But the voices had their claws in me, and they were dragging me back, deeper and deeper.

My hands flew to my pocket, searching, desperate.

And then-

I found it.

Cold metal met my fingertips, smooth, delicate. Noor's bangle.

My Noor's bangles

I exhaled sharply, gripping it with trembling hands.

The voices faded, drowned out by the one thing that always pulled me back from the edge.

Noor.

My escape. My peace.

I clenched the bangle tightly, pressing it into my palm, as if holding it meant holding onto her.

Slowly, the weight on my chest lessened. My breathing steadied, the suffocation loosening its grip. My fists unclenched, my fingers running over the bangle's surface.

For the first time in hours, I felt human.

But I needed to leave. Now.

I released a slow breath, dragging a hand through my hair. Enough.

With a sharp movement, I grabbed my keys from the table, snatched my coat, and muttered under my breath, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

The hospital walls felt suffocating. I needed air.

I pushed open the door of my cabin and walked out.

"Sir, there are more appointments left-"

The nurse's voice barely registered in my mind, but I turned back, my voice clipped, firm.

"Unko kal ke liye schedule kar do. Aaj mujhe break chahiye."
("Schedule them for tomorrow. I need a break today.")

I took a step forward, but my feet halted.

Responsibilities. No matter how much I wanted to leave, I couldn't abandon them completely.

I turned back again, this time with more control in my voice.

"Dr. Rashid meri aaj ki saari appointments lega."
("Dr. Rashid will take all my appointments today.")

Without wasting another second, I pulled out my phone, opened Dr. Rashid's contact, and typed.

"Take all my appointments today."

Sent.

I exhaled slowly, my grip tightening around my keys.

Without another word, I walked out of the hospital.

The night air hit my face as I stepped outside, but it did little to calm me.

There was only one place where, for a few hours, I could pretend to be okay.

Noor

Home.
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.
.
.
.
.

The kitchen was quiet except for the soft clinking of utensils as I searched for ingredients. The evening light spilled through the window, casting long shadows on the counter. I had already decided to prepare something grand yet comforting, something that would make him feel at home after a long, lonely day. A warm meal, something that would fill the air with its aroma and tell him, without words, that he wasn't alone anymore.

I had just taken out the flour when I got lost in my own thoughts, my hands moving on their own. The house was silent, the kind of silence that felt natural when I was alone. The only sound was the occasional rustling of leaves outside, the whisper of the evening breeze slipping through the open window.

Then, the door creaked open.

I barely paid attention, assuming it was the gardener or someone else from the staff. It was too early for Siddharth ji to be home. My mind stayed preoccupied, running through the mental list of dishes I wanted to make, adjusting ingredients in my head, considering what might go well together.

And then-suddenly-strong arms lifted me off the ground, stealing the breath right out of my lungs.

"Aah!" A startled gasp escaped my lips as my body instinctively tensed. My hands gripped onto the closest thing they could-his shoulders, broad and familiar. My heart pounded against my ribs, and for a second, I couldn't breathe. The scent of him-musk and a faint trace of hospital disinfectant-filled my senses, making me realize who it was.

Siddharth ji.

His face was serious, unreadable as always, but his hold on me was firm, steady, like he had no intention of letting go. He didn't say a word, didn't even acknowledge my reaction. He simply started walking-upstairs.

"Y-you-" My voice barely left my lips as I glanced toward the kitchen door, then back at him. His grip didn't loosen. He was taking me upstairs.

I looked at his face, searching for something-an explanation, a hint of what was going on. But his gaze was fixed forward, unwavering. My heart pounded in my chest, not in fear, but in the sheer intensity of the moment.

"Aap kab aaye?" My voice came out softer than I intended. (When did you come?)

His head tilted down slightly, just enough for his glasses to catch the dim evening light. "Abhi aaya hoon." (Just now.)

His voice was calm, but there was something in it-something that made me stop questioning him. He carried me inside our room, not even bothering to close the door with his hands. Instead, with one effortless move, he used his leg to push it shut behind us.

The room was dimly lit, the evening sky casting a soft glow through the curtains. Gently, he lowered me onto the bed, half-sitting against the headboard, my legs stretched out in front of me.

I looked at him, still trying to understand what was happening, but he was already removing his shoes, kicking them off carelessly before pulling his shirt loose from the waistband of his trousers. He unbuttoned the sleeves slowly, rolling them up just a bit, as if shedding the weight of the day

And then, without a word, he reached for me.

His hands found my legs-parting them just enough for him to settle in between. My breath caught as he moved closer, his broad frame now pressed against me. Before I could process anything, his fingers lifted the edge of my pallu, the fabric that covered my stomach and chest, and he gently placed his face against me.

Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he pulled the pallu back over himself, hiding his face beneath it.

Warmth spread through me.

His touch wasn't rough, wasn't urgent-it was seeking. A silent request for comfort.

I sat there, frozen-not in discomfort, not in shock, but in something softer. Amusement? Wonder? The warmth of his body seeped through the fabric, his breathing slow and deep.

His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me even closer, his grip firm yet... tender. A slow smile crept onto my lips. This man-so serious, so composed in front of the world-was now lying on my chest like a child seeking comfort.

My hands hovered on either side of me, unsure of what to do at first. But then, instinct took over. Gently, I lifted one hand, placing it on his head, running my fingers through his hair.

"Kya hua?" I whispered. (What happened?)

He didn't answer, just nuzzled his face deeper against me. The warmth of his breath against my bare stomach sent a shiver through me,my toes curling at the unexpected sensation. I swallowed, my fingers still in his hair, my other hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

The sun was setting outside, its golden light spilling into the room. The world outside was quiet, peaceful, but inside, I could hear the soft sound of his breathing against me. A steady inhale. A slower exhale. His exhaustion, his longing, everything he wasn't saying-I could feel it all.

"Siddharth ji?" My voice was softer this time, hesitant but laced with understanding. "Aap thik hai?"

(Are you okay?)

For a moment, he didn't move. Then, in a muffled, almost boyish voice, he answered, "Ab thik hu. Hospital me acha nahi lag raha tha."

(Now I'm fine. I didn't like being at the hospital.)

I felt his body relax even more against mine, as if he had been holding onto something all day, and only now, in this moment, was he allowing himself to let go.

My heart ached.

Gently, I stroked his hair again, feeling the tension in his body slowly fade. For a long moment, he stayed like that, breathing against my skin, his arms around me, as if grounding himself in my presence.

Then, slowly, he lifted his face-not removing the pallu this time, just shifting beneath it. My breath caught when his chin rested against my chest, his eyes meeting mine.

His gaze covered by the glasses was unreadable yet intense, his closeness sending warmth through my entire body. My cheeks flushed, but I didn't look away.

And then, without a word, he leaned in.

His lips met mine softly-so softly, as if testing, as if asking for permission without words. My hands clenched the bedsheets beside me. When he bit my lower lip, a small gasp left me, my toes curling in response.

My fingers clenched against the bedsheet, my toes curling when he gently bit my lower lip, testing, teasing. A quiet gasp slipped past my lips, and he took advantage of it, deepening the kiss.

It wasn't urgent.

It wasn't rushed.

It was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment, savoring me.

The kiss was slow, unhurried, and filled with something deeper than desire. His fingers skimmed my waist, holding me close, anchoring me to him. My heart pounded as he took his time as if savoring every second.

The world outside faded.

It was just him. Just me. Just this moment.

And I never wanted it to end.

His lips moved against mine-slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. The heat of his mouth, the gentle pull of his breath against mine, the way his fingers brushed against my waist-it was intoxicating. I didn't even realize when my hands had left the sheets and found their way to his shoulders, gripping him like he was the only thing keeping me steady.

And then-he pulled back.

Just a fraction, just enough for the air between us to thin, but not enough for me to forget the shape of his lips against mine.

His breath was warm against my skin, his lips still parted, still molded in the shape of the kiss we had just shared. My heart hammered against my ribs as I watched him-watched the way his chest rose and fell, the way his dark eyes stayed on me like he was memorizing the exact way I looked right now.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he reached up.

His fingers brushed against the frames of his glasses, his touch quick and practiced as he removed them. The metal glinted faintly in the low light, and for a second, the world around me blurred-not because of the dimming sun - but because of the intensity in his gaze.

His glasses dangled from his fingers, his grip on them loose as he shifted forward again-closer, closer, until I could feel the heat of his breath on my lips once more.

And then-he leaned down.

This time, there was no patience.

His lips crashed onto mine, rougher, hotter-demanding.

A small, breathless sound escaped me before I could stop it. His hand slid up my waist, fingers curling around the fabric of my saree as if he wanted to pull me closer-closer than was even possible. His lips parted, his teeth grazing against my lower lip before he bit down-firm, teasing enough to make my fingers clench against his shoulders.

I gasped.

He didn't pull away.

Instead, he soothed the bite with a slow, lingering kiss, his tongue tracing over the spot as if making up for the roughness. My body arched slightly, my toes curling against the sheets as a warmth. I didn't know how to name spread through me.

Siddharth ji's grip on my waist tightened.

His lips moved against mine, deep and consuming, until my breaths came in uneven, shaky waves. His fingers traced the edge of my pallu again, barely there, just enough to remind me how close we were.

And then-he pulled back again.

But this time, he didn't move far.

His forehead rested against mine, his breaths mingling with my own, both of us caught in the space between what had just happened and what was still lingering in the air.

I couldn't breathe properly. My chest rose and fell in quick, uneven movements, and I knew he could feel it.

I knew, because his hand was still there-resting against my waist, his thumb tracing slow, absentminded circles against my skin, as if he was trying to calm me down while he himself wasn't calm at all.

I swallowed hard, trying to get my heartbeat under control.

But I could still feel him.

The warmth of his lips. The press of his body. The way my own lips tingled from the way he had kissed me-how his teeth had left their presence on my skin.

And then-his voice cut through the heavy silence.

Soft. Deep.

"Kuch dikhana tha aapko."

(There's something I wanted to show you.)

I blinked, still dazed, still caught in the moment we had just shared.

His fingers finally left my waist, but not before grazing my skin one last time-a touch so fleeting, so brief, yet enough to leave a trail of heat in its wake.

"Chalengi mere saath?"

(Will you come with me?)

My breath hitched.

His voice was steady, but there was something else beneath it-something unreadable - something that sent a shiver down my spine.

I swallowed, my fingers still trembling slightly as I looked up at him.

And without thinking, I nodded.
.
.
.
.
.

The sun had set, yet the sky still held onto the last whispers of its golden light. A soft, dusky glow stretched across the horizon, painting the world in hues of lavender and amber. The road ahead was endless, disappearing into the warm embrace of twilight, and inside the car, Noor sat beside Siddharth, her heart restless with curiosity.

He hadn't told her where they were going. He had simply smiled-hope flickering in his deep blue eyes-and said, "It's a surprise." A surprise. The very thought sent a shiver down her spine, for the man beside her had an uncanny way of turning her world upside down. Each surprise he had given her so far had left her breathless, and this... this felt different.

Noor turned her head slightly, stealing a glance at Siddharth. His hands gripped the wheel with a quiet confidence, his profile calm yet unreadable. He wore glasses now, the lenses catching the dim light from the streetlamps as they passed. His shirt was still untucked, just as it had been before, giving him that effortless, undone look. It was something about him-something about the way he carried himself, the way his presence alone could command a moment-that made her chest tighten.

The car slowed, then came to a complete stop in front of a property. Noor frowned, looking around. It was vast, surrounded by a fence, but there was no building in sight. Only the skeletal remains of what was to come-piles of bricks, steel rods, the scent of fresh earth, and the faint echo of construction yet to begin. It was unfinished, still in its infancy, yet there was something about this place, something untold.

Siddharth stepped out first, moving with an air of certainty. The click of the car door opening made Noor blink, and before she could react, he was already by her side, holding the door open. His hand reached forward, palm facing up, an unspoken invitation. Noor hesitated for only a moment before slipping her fingers into his. His grip was firm yet gentle as he helped her out of the car, steadying her even when she didn't need it.

Then, without a word, he walked forward. Noor followed, her brows furrowing as Siddharth reached for the large gate that guarded the property. The rusted hinges groaned in protest as he pushed it open, the sound breaking the quiet night air. Noor's pulse quickened.

Her eyes darted around, trying to make sense of it all. Why are we here? she wanted to ask. But before she could, she felt his hand slip away from hers. She turned sharply, only to see him taking a few steps ahead, moving with a quiet purpose.

And then-he stopped.

He turned to face her, his expression unreadable for a second before something softened. And then, in a gesture so simple yet so grand, he bowed slightly, one hand extended as if in greeting.

"Welcome to the premises of the school founded by my dear wife."

Noor's breath hitched. Her lips parted, but no words came out. The world around her blurred as the weight of his words sank in.

Her school. Her dream.

She had the papers-he had gifted them to her before-but she had never expected it to happen this soon. Never in her wildest thoughts had she imagined standing on the very land where it would rise. And yet, here she was.

Noor's eyes darted between Siddharth and the empty land. Her vision blurred-not from disbelief, but from the overwhelming rush of emotions threatening to break free.

And then, Siddharth spoke again.

"We are yet to decide the name, dear audience. But that's not a problem."

He smiled-a boyish, unguarded smile, the kind she rarely saw from him. It was the kind of smile that made her forget how to breathe. The dim glow of twilight reflected off his glasses, casting a faint shimmer over his face. His deep blue eyes, always so intense, held nothing but pride.

Noor tilted her head slightly, still trying to grasp the moment. She was dumbfounded. Completely, utterly dumbfounded. And yet-her heart felt lighter than it ever had.

And then, Siddharth moved.

He ran-ran to the farthest corner of the land and stopped abruptly.

"Here-here will be the classrooms!"

His voice was filled with a childlike excitement, something Noor had never seen in him before. He turned and rushed to another spot, gesturing wildly.

"And here-here will be the playground!"

He didn't stop. He ran again, pointing towards different corners, mapping out every little detail with an energy that was contagious.

Noor stood still, watching him in disbelief.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn't cry. Not yet. She smiled instead-a trembling, radiant smile-as she watched the man she loved lose himself in her dream. And for the first time, she realized something-he was more excited than she had ever been.

Her chest ached with something deep, something indescribable.

And then, he stopped.

He turned to her, his breathing uneven, chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. He walked back towards her, slower this time, until he stood right in front of her. His hand lifted, reaching for hers.

Noor didn't think.

Instead of taking his hand, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his chest. She pressed her face against him, right over where his heart was, feeling its steady, strong rhythm beneath her cheek.

And then-she broke.

Tears spilled down her face, unchecked, unstoppable.

Siddharth didn't say anything at first. He simply ran his hand over her back in slow, soothing strokes. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, yet full of warmth.

"Kitni baar bola hai aapki Cherry, aapki muskurahat ke liye kuch bhi karta hoon, aur aap ro deti hai."
(How many times have I told you, my Cherry, I'd do anything for your smile, and yet you always end up crying?)

A quiet laugh slipped from her lips between her sobs. He tightened his arms around her, holding her closer, letting her feel the depth of everything he could never fully say.

Minutes passed. She didn't know how long they stood there-wrapped in each other, breathing in the moment, letting the world fade away.

And then, gently, Siddharth pulled away. He wiped the lingering tears from her cheeks, then took her hand, leading her a few steps ahead.

He stopped at a particular spot.

"And this-this place will be your office, Mrs. Noor Singh Rajvardhan."

A soft gasp escaped her.

Siddharth leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of her head. Noor looked up at him, her eyes still glassy, her heart barely keeping up with the emotions flooding her.

Then, he turned to face her fully. Taking both of her hands, he pulled her closer, his hands settling at her waist.

His voice was low when he spoke.

"Maine apne saare sapne poore kiye hain," his voice dropped to a whisper. "Par ab ek sapna hai jo poora karna hai."
(I have fulfilled all my dreams. But now, there is one dream left to fulfill.)

Noor swallowed, staring into his eyes.

"Kaunsa sapna?" she whispered.
(Which dream?)

Siddharth lifted a hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His gaze held hers, unwavering. And then, with the softest of smiles, he said-

"Iss duniya ne mujhe hamesha Siddharth Singh Rajvardhan ke naam se jaana hai, par ab, Noor, mera sapna hai ki mai sirf Siddharth nahi, balki Noor Singh Rajvardhan ka pati Siddharth ke naam se jaana jaun."
(The world has always known me as Siddharth Singh Rajvardhan, but now, Noor, my dream is to be known not just as Siddharth-but as Noor Singh Rajvardhan's husband.)

And at that moment-under the vast, endless sky-Noor knew.

Know as she was blessing for a husband, he was the biggest blessing for her.

The night air was still, yet the world around them felt alive-charged with an energy Noor could neither name nor contain. The moment hung between them, delicate and unbreakable, like the pause before the first drop of rain touches the earth. Siddharth's words still echoed in the silence, wrapping around her heart, sinking deep into the marrow of her bones.

Her breath hitched, her vision blurring again-not with disbelief, but with something far greater, far heavier. It wasn't just love. It wasn't just gratitude. It was something infinite, something she had never known she could feel.

And then-she moved.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, she lifted onto her toes, her body drawn to his like the moon to the tide. Her hands, trembling yet certain, reached forward, cupping his face in her palms. His skin was warm beneath her touch, his breath steady-steady in the way only he could be, as if even in this moment, he was her anchor.

Siddharth didn't move. He didn't pull away. He simply stood there, letting her hold him, letting her take what she needed.

And then, with a softness that could bring kings to their knees, Noor leaned in and pressed the lightest, most lingering kiss against his lips.

It was barely there, a whisper of a touch, yet Siddharth felt it like a wildfire beneath his skin. He let her do it-let her pour every unspoken word, every unshed tear, every shattered and healed piece of her soul into that one moment.

And when she pulled back, her breath mingling with his, her lips quivered-not in hesitation, but in certainty.

Her fingers curled slightly against his cheeks, and she exhaled.

"Mera naam Noor Singh Rajvardhan nahi hai, balki-"

She didn't finish.

Instead, she pressed her forehead against his, her breath shaky, her heart wild.

Siddharth understood.

Without a word, he bowed his head, meeting her halfway, closing the distance in the only way that mattered. His hands found her wrists, his fingers curling around them-not to hold her back, not to stop her, but to support her. To steady her as she stood on her toes, fragile yet unyielding, the weight of her emotions pressing against him like a storm and a prayer all at once.

Tears slipped from her eyes, glistening like fallen stars.

Her lips trembled into a smile-small, unguarded, radiant.

And then, with the kind of conviction that could shake the heavens, she whispered-

"Noor Siddharth Singh Rajvardhan hai."

________________________________________

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