Few Months Later

The road to Kashmir unfurled like a dream—verdant meadows kissed by the mist, snow-draped peaks standing guard against a sky that seemed to stretch forever. Priya leaned her head against the car window, her eyes soaking in the unspoiled beauty. Every twist and turn revealed a scene more breathtaking than the last. Ram, his hands steady on the wheel, occasionally glanced at her, a soft smile playing on his lips as he saw the wonder light up her face.

Breaking the peaceful silence, Priya sighed and said, "I still miss Peehu. This place... it's too beautiful. I really wish she could see this with us."

Ram chuckled softly, his voice warm. "Priya, this place is freezing. Peehu is still a little girl. I wanted to spend some time with my wife alone, and you agreed to that, didn't you?"

"I know," Priya replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "But still... she'd love this."

Ram's expression softened further as he reached over, briefly resting his hand on hers. "We can still share this with her. How about a video call?"

Priya's face brightened at the suggestion, and without hesitation, she pulled out her phone. Within moments, Peehu's curious face appeared on the screen. Her wide eyes sparkled with delight as Priya and Ram turned the phone's camera around, showing her the snow-covered peaks, the cascading streams, and the winding roads that seemed to touch the clouds.

"Wow!" Peehu exclaimed, her excitement palpable even through the screen. "Mumma, Papa, it's so beautiful! When I grow up, I'll definitely go there too."

Priya laughed, her heart swelling with love. "We'll take you here one day, sweetheart. This place will wait for you."

Ram chimed in, his tone playful. "And when we do, you'll need two woolen hats, three jackets, and four pairs of gloves, Peehu. It's that cold!"

Peehu giggled, her laughter filling the car with warmth that rivaled the heater. "Okay, Papa! I'll bring them all!"

As the call ended, Priya leaned back in her seat, her heart lighter. Ram glanced at her, his smile now tinged with satisfaction. "Feel better now?"

Priya nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. "Yes. Thank you for this."

The wooden house was a picture of simplicity and charm. Though small, it exuded a warmth that perfectly mirrored the snow-covered wonderland outside. Priya stood near the large glass panels, her eyes fixed on the swirling flakes that blanketed the ground. Leaning against the cold glass, she watched the world turn into a pristine white canvas, her breath fogging the surface slightly.

Behind her, the kitchen buzzed softly with Ram's activity. The aroma of something comforting wafted through the air, mingling with the cozy hum of the heater. Suddenly, his voice broke the tranquil silence.

"Are you planning to stand there all day, admiring the snow? Come on, Priya, help me out here!"

Priya turned her head, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. "But you said you'd cook," she reminded him, her voice light with mischief.

"That doesn't mean you get to skip helping," Ram retorted, glancing at her over his shoulder. "At least pretend you're contributing."

She chuckled softly, the sound melting into the warmth of the moment. Pushing off the glass, she walked toward him, her arms crossed playfully. "Alright, Chef Kapoor, what's on the menu today?"

"Chicken sweet corn soup," Ram declared proudly, stirring the pot with exaggerated precision.

Priya raised an eyebrow, intrigued. She grabbed a spoon, dipped it into the pot, and tasted the soup. A satisfied hum escaped her lips. "Hmm, it's delicious. I can't believe it—Ram Kapoor, in a kitchen, cooking for his wife. Who would've thought?"

Ram feigned indignation, turning to her with mock seriousness. "Hey! Don't mock me. I've got my wife back now—I'd do anything for you, Priya. Anything. Even... die for you if it came to that."

Her smile softened, the playful glint in her eyes replaced by something deeper. She moved closer, her hand resting lightly on his chest. "Do whatever you want, Ram," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. "But don't you dare leave me again."

Their eyes locked, the weight of unspoken promises filling the space between them. Snow continued to fall outside, but inside, it was as if time itself had paused for this brief, tender moment. Ram lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek.

"I'll never leave you," he murmured. "Not now. Not ever."

The warmth of their embrace rivaled the steam rising from the soup, and the cozy little house seemed to hum with the quiet joy of a love rekindled.

As the streets  were wrapped in a serene hush, the only sounds being the crunch of fresh snow underfoot and the soft whispers of the chilly breeze. Ram and Priya walked hand in hand, their breaths misting in the icy air. The twinkling streetlights cast a golden glow on the snow, and for a moment, the world felt like a scene from a fairytale.

After a satisfying meal, Ram decided to liven things up. With a sly grin, he broke the silence. "You know, that Aryan guy really loved you. I could see it in his eyes. And look at you—you broke his heart terribly."

Priya, caught off guard, elbowed him sharply. "Ouch!" Ram exclaimed dramatically, grinning through the mock pain.

She stopped walking and turned to him, narrowing her eyes. "What do you mean? Should I have married him, then?" she challenged, her voice laced with mock irritation.

Ram's grin widened. "Well, maybe you should've. He seemed like such a decent guy—never gave you any trouble. Unlike me, of course."

Priya's eyes widened, and she crossed her arms. "You know what? You're absolutely right. Aryan was a gentleman who never drove me crazy. I must be a fool to take you back, knowing all the trouble you've caused me!"

Ram's laughter echoed through the snowy streets as he noticed her cheeks flush a deep red. With a teasing tone, he leaned closer. "Sometimes I wonder how you're the mother of a five-year-old when you're such a kid yourself. Look at your face—reddened already! Relax, Priya. I was just pulling your legs."

But Priya wasn't having it. With a huff, she turned on her heel and walked ahead, her scarf swaying in the cold breeze. Ram watched her retreating figure with amusement and decided to escalate the fun.

Bending down, he scooped a handful of snow, packed it into a firm ball, and aimed it at her back. The snowball hit its mark with a soft thud.

Priya froze mid-step but didn't look back. She continued walking, her chin slightly lifted in a show of defiance.

Ram chuckled and repeated his mischief. Another snowball flew through the air, landing squarely on her shoulder. This time, she stopped and turned around, her expression a mix of annoyance and amusement.

"So, you want a snow fight?" she asked, her eyes narrowing playfully.

"Bring it on!" Ram replied, already bending down for more snow.

What followed was chaos. Priya retaliated with a snowball that hit Ram square on the chest. He yelped dramatically, clutching his heart as if she'd wounded him. "You're ruthless!" he exclaimed.

"You asked for it!" Priya laughed, scooping up more snow.

Soon, the quiet street was alive with laughter and playful shouts. Snowballs flew back and forth, their hits accompanied by gasps, shrieks, and bursts of laughter. Ram chased Priya, who ducked and weaved, her giggles ringing out like a melody. She managed to hit him on the side of the head, and he responded by tackling her into a soft mound of snow.

As they lay there, breathless and covered in snow, the world around them seemed to hold its breath. Priya's laughter softened, and she looked up at Ram, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"You're impossible," she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

"And you love it," Ram replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

Priya rolled her eyes but didn't deny it. As the snow fell gently around them, they lay in a bubble of shared warmth and happiness, the cold forgotten in the glow of their rekindled love.

At night snow blanketed the world outside in a soft, serene glow, shimmering under the pale light of the moon. The tall pine trees stood as silent sentinels, their branches heavy with frost, and the occasional gust of wind rustled them gently. The distant sound of a river, its waters flowing beneath a sheet of ice, added a melody to the stillness.

Inside their small wooden haven, the world was an entirely different kind of warmth. Ram and Priya lay on the bed, their gazes locked in a conversation unspoken yet profoundly understood. The flicker of a fireplace cast dancing shadows on the wooden walls, wrapping them in a cocoon of intimacy.

Priya's fingers moved to Ram's face, tracing the familiar lines with a tenderness that spoke of love rediscovered. Ram leaned closer, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was as gentle as the snowfall outside. The world seemed to pause as they came closer, their breaths mingling in the still air.

Ram shifted, coming over her, and with a quiet motion, removed his shirt. The soft glow of the fire revealed the scar on his chest—a mark that told a story of pain and resilience. Priya's gaze fell on it, and her hand instinctively reached out, her fingers gently caressing the scar.

Her touch carried not just love but also a deep ache, as if she could ease the pain he'd endured. Ram followed her gaze and looked at the scar himself, his expression clouded.

"This thing always reminds me how I couldn't save my family, Priya," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret.

Priya cupped his face, her eyes welling with empathy. "No, Ram. You did your part. Some things aren't in our hands. That's what we call fate."

Ram nodded slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Yes, I've started believing in that too. Fate. It brought us together again, didn't it? And now... here we are."

His words hung in the air, a soft promise carried on the warmth of the room. He leaned in, his lips trailing gentle kisses along her neck, each one speaking of the love and longing he held for her.

Priya responded, not with urgency, but with the same tenderness, matching his rhythm. Every movement, every touch felt like a rediscovery. It was as though time had slowed down, and they were both lost in the simplicity of being together, in this shared space where nothing else mattered.

Ram gently pulled away, gazing into her eyes as though trying to see the very depths of her soul. There were no more walls, no more pretenses between them—just two people who had been broken and mended, and who had finally found their way back to each other.

"Priya," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I don't need anything else, just you."

She smiled, a soft, warm smile that spoke of healing, of forgiveness, and of love that had never really disappeared, only hidden beneath the surface for a time. "And I don't need anything else either," she replied, her voice just as soft, just as sure.

They moved closer, the world outside fading into the background, as if it didn't exist anymore. It was just them, two hearts beating together in the quiet of the night, creating a melody that was their own.

In that moment, their love was more than a physical connection—it was the culmination of everything they had endured, of the painful past they had weathered, and the new future they were willing to build together. The simplicity of the moment, of being together, was enough to fill every corner of their hearts.

Outside, the snowfall thickened, blanketing the world in a magical stillness. The winds played a quiet symphony as the two hearts inside their cozy sanctuary beat in harmony. Their movements were unhurried, as if savoring every touch, every kiss, and every whispered confession of love.