"Chand lamhon ki baat hai, yeh sukoon ka saath hai,
Par dil ke kone mein chhupa ek sawaal hai,
Kya rahega yeh silsila, ya waqt badal dega manzar,
Har khushi ke saath kyun chhupa ek andeshaa ka raaz hai?"

~ meher mathur (raizada)

~ Author ~

Mumbai, India

One of William's house employees had put Meher on a video call so that she could see Sahil. For fifteen minutes she kept watching him, his face devoid of bruises, just lying on the bed, sleeping peacefully, but the wires were still attached to him, letting her know that he still wasn't up from Coma.

It had been six months since that accident.

And a lot had changed.

Sahil had no living family members left. His mother died when he was in the first year of his graduation. His face looked pristine and gentle, the rarest expression he had ever given to someone. That was never him. He always had a way to tease people and get back at them.

Which he did literally, just at the cost of his life.

"Looking at you makes me feel like all I have lost up until now. " The silence between them was so high that all she could hear was the machines' beeping.

"But," she continued, "it also made me realise what I have got. " She smiled, remembering Kabir.

"I am in love, Sahil," she confessed. "I am irrevocably in love with Kabir Raizada, my husband."

When she admitted it, her feelings felt like they were multiplying a thousand times more than it was already there. "You know when I told you about falling in love with a person who looked at me with the same intensity and passion as Abhi? Kabir is that person. And contrary to your belief, he's not a rebound." she chuckled to herself, recalling one of the first conversations she had with Sahil in the car when he came to pick her up from the airport when she arrived from the US.

"It took me more than five years to finally let go of my first love and give my heart to another man. And I am doing that, very happily," she told him. "I never thought I would love Kabir, let alone be a friend considering our rocky relationship right from when we were young. But we got tired of those fights, well at least I did and I was the cause of those fights anyway. And when I let those fights and anger go, I saw a completely new side of him and it wasn't hard to fall in love with him. It was so simple, without any complexities."

Her face was etched up with a beautiful smile when she spoke about him. "He looks tough, but all of it is just a mask. He's like a coconut, tough on the outside, soft on the inside. Sometimes I wonder why I spent so many years with him under the same roof but never tried to know or understand him as a person. But now when I do, there is no going back."

She kept on conversing with him for a while until her eyes fell on the time and she realised it was late.

Meher's fingers brushed over the phone screen, ending the call as Sahil's peaceful face faded away. She sat there for a moment, the weight of her emotions pressing against her chest. Speaking to Sahil, even in his comatose state, had become her way of untangling the complicated web of thoughts and feelings that surrounded her life. Yet tonight, admitting her love for Kabir out loud had stirred something deeper within her— an acknowledgement of how far she had come, and how irrevocably tied she now was to him.

The soft creak of the front door pulled her from her thoughts. She turned her head and listened, her heartbeat quickening. The sound of shoes being removed and the rustling of keys followed, signalling Kabir's arrival. Meher stood, smoothing her dress as she walked toward the hallway. When she saw him, she paused, her gaze taking in the sight of him loosening his tie and running a hand through his hair, weariness etched into his features.

"You're still awake?" he asked, his deep voice carrying a hint of surprise.

She stepped closer, offering a small smile. "I was just catching up on with Sahil. I hadn't spoken to him in a while." Her voice was softer than she intended as if his presence drew out a gentleness she couldn't suppress. "Have you eaten?"

He shook his head, the lines of exhaustion around his eyes more pronounced under the soft light. "Not yet. Meetings ran late." Due to Kabir's involvement in the government project, on most days he had to stay up late for countless meetings. Since Meher had less of a workload she came home early and waited for Kabir.

While he would eat, she would speak to him and they would share their day's events.

It had become a routine. A comfortable one at that.

Meher nodded and turned toward the kitchen without a word, her steps light but purposeful. Kabir followed her, his presence steady and quiet. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed as he watched her move around the kitchen with practised ease. The clatter of plates and the soft hum of the microwave filled the silence, and for a while, neither of them spoke.

"You don't have to do this every time, you know," he said finally, his tone low but not unkind.

Meher glanced at him over her shoulder. "Do what?"

"Wait up for me. Take care of me," he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. She shook her head, turning back to the microwave as it beeped. "I wasn't waiting for you. I was just awake."

Kabir's brow arched, his smile deepening. "Is that so?"

"It is," she retorted, carrying his plate to the table. She poured him a glass of water, setting it down with deliberate care. Kabir followed her to the dining table, sitting across from her as she settled into her chair.

He picked up his fork, his movements deliberate and unhurried. For a few moments, the only sound between them was the clink of utensils against the plate. Meher rested her chin in her hand, her gaze flickering to him every so often.

"What?" he asked, his eyes meeting hers suddenly, catching her in the act of watching him.

"Nothing," she replied quickly, looking away. But the faint blush creeping up her cheeks betrayed her.

Kabir chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're a terrible liar."

Meher rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself. "And you're too smug for your own good."

He smirked, the playful glint in his eyes making him look younger and less burdened. "Maybe. But it's nice to come home to someone. To you."

The simplicity of his words struck her with the force of a thousand emotions. Meher froze, her heart skipping a beat as his gaze lingered on her. There was no teasing in his tone this time, no deflection. Just sincerity.

"Is it?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his attention shifting back to his plate as if to downplay the moment. "It is."

Meher's chest swelled with a warmth that threatened to overwhelm her. She looked down at her hands, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the tablecloth. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable— it was heavy with meaning, with things unsaid but deeply felt.

As Kabir finished his meal, he stood and gathered his plate and glass. Meher watched him, her gaze lingering on the way he moved with quiet confidence. He carried the dishes to the sink, rinsing them with ease. But as he turned to leave, he paused, glancing over his shoulder at her.

Her breath caught when he walked toward her, his steps slow and deliberate. Kabir stopped in front of her chair, his gaze was soft yet intense. Without a word, he leaned down, and before she could react, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

The gesture was brief but filled with a tenderness that left her completely dazed. Her heart thundered in her chest as his warmth lingered on her skin.

"Kabir—" she began, her voice barely a whisper, but he was already straightening, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Goodnight, Mini," he said, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something deeper, something unspoken.

And then he walked away, disappearing down the hallway before she could fully process what had just happened.

Meher sat there, her fingers brushing against the spot where his lips had been moments ago. Her mind raced, replaying the softness in his touch, the quiet care in his voice. Her heart was a whirlwind of emotions, each one more overwhelming than the last.

The dining room felt impossibly quiet now, the echoes of their conversation and his tender kiss lingering in the air. She leaned back in her chair, her hand falling to her lap as she let out a shaky breath. Kabir Raizada, her husband, had once been the last person she thought she'd ever grow close to. Yet now, he had become the centre of her world, and with each passing day, her love for him only deepened.

She smiled to herself, the warmth of his kiss still fresh in her memory. It wasn't the grand gestures or dramatic declarations that mattered— it was moments like these, small and quiet, that spoke volumes. Moments that reminded her just how lucky she was to have him by her side.

*   *   *

Meher walked into the police station, her posture firm and her expression resolute. Despite the toll the past days had taken on her, there was an unyielding strength in her demeanour. She nodded briefly at the officers who greeted her with respect, making her way to Officer Mistry's office.

The door was slightly ajar, and Meher knocked lightly before stepping inside. Officer Mistry looked up from the files spread out on her desk, her face a mix of relief and guilt upon seeing Meher. She stood quickly, her hands clutching the edge of the table as though searching for words.

"Meher," Officer Mistry began, her voice laced with remorse. "I'm— I don't even know where to start. What happened to you, what I allowed to happen was inexcusable."

Meher held up a hand, stopping her mid-apology. "Officer Mistry, I'm not here to blame you. You don't have to keep apologizing."

"But—"

Meher shook her head, stepping closer. "It wasn't your fault. We all knew the risks, including me. If I'm alive today, it's because of the precautions you and Kabir took. So please, don't carry this guilt around."

Officer Mistry sank back into her chair, clearly grappling with her emotions. "You're incredibly strong, Meher. More than I could have ever imagined."

Meher offered her a small smile before pulling out a chair and sitting down. "I'm not here to dwell on the past. I want to know where things stand now. Kabir said you found something in the ledgers?"

The officer nodded, pushing a file across the desk toward Meher. "Yes. The ledgers we retrieved from the brothel had detailed account numbers linked to various offshore companies. The countries mentioned— Seychelles, the Cayman Islands and some parts of Europe— they're places known for lax financial regulations. It's all part of a vast web of corruption and illegal transactions."

Meher frowned, flipping through the file. "And these companies, are they tied to specific people?"

"They are," Officer Mistry confirmed. "High-profile businessmen and influential figures. Their names are protected for now, but these ledgers are evidence of deep-rooted corruption. Bribes, money laundering, human trafficking— it's all interconnected."

Meher leaned back, her brow furrowed in thought. "And what about Kavitha? Wasn't she supposed to be the ringleader?"

"She was," Officer Mistry said, her tone shifting slightly. "We've arrested her, and during interrogation, she confessed to orchestrating the abduction and sale of missing girls. She admitted that they were sold abroad, to the highest bidders, treated like commodities."

Meher's stomach churned at the thought, but she pushed the nausea aside, focusing on the conversation. "Did she say where? Any specifics?"

Officer Mistry hesitated, her expression guarded. "I can't disclose everything, Meher. The details are classified, and we're still in the middle of the investigation. Revealing too much could compromise the operation."

"Well, then just keep in the loop."

Officer Mistry gave her a firm nod. "You have my word."

Meher closed the file and stood. "Thank you for what you've done so far. And for what you're still doing. I know this isn't easy for you either."

Officer Mistry stood as well, offering her hand. "We'll get justice, Meher. For you, for the other women, for everyone who's suffered because of this."

Meher shook her hand, her grip strong. "I'll hold you to that, Officer."

"And Meher?"

"Hmm?"

"You can call me Ashna," Ashna Mistry gave her a small smile. Meher returned the gesture and nodded.

She found a new friend.

*   *   *

Meher sat at her sleek mahogany desk, poring over the details of the project report. The soft hum of the office air conditioning served as white noise, but the atmosphere was anything but calm. Her mind was sharp, honed in on the intricacies of the pitch her team had been working on for weeks. Across from her stood Dev, her secretary, poised yet visibly passionate, holding a tablet as he walked her through the latest updates. 

"Ma'am, I think if we structure the campaign this way," Dev said, pointing to a section on the screen, "it would appeal more to the younger demographic without alienating the older audience. The numbers from the test sample back this up. A mix of modern and traditional elements should strike the balance we're looking for." 

Meher leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing as she considered his suggestion. "And what about the cost implications? Integrating traditional elements might require additional budget approvals, especially with the kind of vendors we'll need." 

Dev didn't flinch. "I've already crunched the numbers. If we allocate some of the resources we initially set aside for social media to these vendors, we'll actually save around 15% of the projected expenses. It's all in this section," he said, swiping to another page on the tablet and placing it on the desk before her. 

Meher's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Impressive." 

"I've learned from the best," Dev said with a small smile, a mix of humility and confidence. 

She picked up the tablet, scrolling through his analysis. "You've clearly put a lot of thought into this, Dev. But tell me something— why are you so invested in this project? I mean, you're handling so many others, and yet this one seems personal to you." 

Dev's posture relaxed as he took a step back, his hands loosely clasped in front of him. "It is personal, ma'am. My mother runs a small textile business in my hometown. The struggles I've seen her face trying to balance modern demands with traditional craftsmanship— it's not easy. She's constantly trying to keep up with trends while staying true to her roots. When I look at this project, I see a similar challenge, and I can't help but feel connected to it." 

Meher tilted her head, observing him closely. There was a sincerity in his voice that made her sit up a little straighter. "Interesting," she said, tapping her pen on the desk. "And does your mother still manage the business?" 

Dev nodded. "Yes, though it's tough. She's not as tech-savvy, so I try to help when I visit home. I've even introduced her to some digital tools to streamline things. It's not perfect, but it's a start." 

Meher smiled faintly. "You seem very close to her." 

"I am," Dev said without hesitation. "She has been my biggest inspiration. Whenever I face a challenge, I think about how she would handle it. She has taught me a lot about resilience." 

There was a pause, and then Dev added something with a slight chuckle. "Though she has this habit of using old idioms for every situation, even if they don't always fit. It's endearing." 

Meher couldn't help but laugh softly. "Like mother, like son, huh? You have a way of phrasing things that's unique. I noticed it during our previous meetings. Like you said earlier in the meeting about not counting the chickens before they hatch. It's almost as if—" 

She trailed off, her expression shifting to one of contemplation. There was something familiar about Dev, or more accurately, the way he expressed himself. She couldn't quite place it, but it nagged at her. 

"What?" Dev asked, curious but unbothered by her sudden pause. 

Meher shook her head, waving it off. "Nothing. Just a passing thought." 

Dev raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Instead, he said, "Should I proceed with the revisions we discussed?" 

"Yes," Meher said, snapping out of her thoughts. "Go ahead and implement them. And Dev?" 

"Yes, ma'am?" 

"You're doing a great job," she said sincerely. 

Dev smiled a genuine, boyish grin that lit up his face. "Thank you, ma'am. That means a lot." 

Meher sat back in her chair, taking a deep breath as Dev left her office, his file tucked neatly under his arm. She couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm and dedication. He was a bright addition to her team, making her job just a bit easier with his sharp ideas and fresh perspective. But the moment she leaned back to relax, there was a soft knock on the door. 

She glanced up to see Kabir peeking in. His face lit up the moment their eyes met, and a wave of warmth spread through her. 

"Are you done for the day?" he asked, stepping inside. 

Meher nodded, closing her laptop. "Just wrapped up. What about you?"

Kabir smiled. "Enough work for today. I thought we could leave together." 

This is what she had imagined her life to be. Simple and beautiful. "Let me grab my bag," she said, getting up. 

As they walked out of her office, Kabir placed a hand lightly on the small of her back, guiding her toward the elevator. 

The evening was cool, the city alive with its usual hustle and bustle as they settled into Kabir's car. He started the engine, and the soft hum of the vehicle blended with the faint sounds of the city outside. 

"So, how was your day?" Kabir asked, glancing at her briefly before focusing back on the road. 

Meher shrugged lightly. "It was good. Dev brought some interesting ideas to the table. I think we're finally making progress on the project."

Kabir raised an eyebrow. "Dev? Your lanky secretary? You seem impressed."

Meher chuckled, playfully hitting his shoulder. "He's not lanky, Kabir, do not make fun of the poor guy. He's sharp and has a unique way of looking at things. It's refreshing."

Kabir smirked. "Should I be jealous?" 

Meher shot him a playful look. "Of course not. You're irreplaceable, Mr. Raizada." 

Kabir laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the car. "Good to know."

"What about you?" Meher asked, changing the topic. "How was your day?"

Kabir sighed, his smile fading slightly. "It was hectic. Meetings, phone calls, paperwork, the usual chaos. But it's fine now. This," he motioned at the steering wheel, "driving home with you, all of this makes it worth it." 

Meher looked at him, her heart swelling at his words. "You always know the right things to say, don't you?"

Kabir shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Only when it's you."

And her heart fluttered over and over again.

The conversation flowed effortlessly as they drove through the city. They talked about everything and nothing— the projects at work, their favourite childhood memories, even the latest book Meher was reading. Kabir teased her about her tendency to read three books at once, and Meher retorted by pointing out his inability to remember where he left his car keys half the time. 

They laughed, the sound warm and genuine, filling the space between them. It was moments like these that made Meher realize just how much had changed between them. 

As the car slowed to a stop at a red light, Kabir turned to her, his expression soft. "You know, I don't think I've told you this, but I'm proud of you."

Meher blinked, caught off guard. "Proud of me? For what?"

Kabir tilted his head. "For everything. For how you handled the situation, for how you've picked yourself up and continued to move forward. For being you." 

His words hit her harder than she expected. She looked down, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to spill. "Thank you," she whispered. 

Kabir reached out, his fingers brushing against hers briefly before he pulled back, focusing on the road as the light turned green. 

When they finally reached home, the warmth of their house welcomed them like an old friend. Meher stepped inside, placing her bag on the couch. Kabir followed her, chucking his socks in one corner and wearing the house slippers. 

As she watched him move about, a thought began to linger in her mind. This moment, this peace, this happiness, it was almost too good to be true. 

She had seen so much darkness and pain that this light felt fragile as if it could shatter at any moment. 

Kabir noticed her silence and walked over, standing close enough that she could feel his presence but far enough to give her space. "What's on your mind?"

Meher shook her head, forcing a smile. "Nothing. Just tired, I guess." 

Kabir didn't press, but the look in his eyes told her he knew there was more. He reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together. You know that, right?" 

Her smile this time was genuine. "I know." 

As Kabir went to put his bag in the study, Meher stood there for a moment, letting his words sink in. 

Until when will things be this good?

She thought to herself, the question echoing in her mind. 

But as she looked around, at the home they were building together, at the man who had become her anchor, she decided that maybe it didn't matter. 

For now, she would cherish this. For now, she would hold on to the good, for as long as it lasted.

Hello after a month! It is the calm before the impending storm and it is the 60th chapter of Every Flame. Last time when I wrote the 60th chapter, it was the end of a beautiful story. I can't believe that we are nearing the end of this story. Roughly 5-10 chapters more, depending on the word count and how much I want to use the words to wrap the story up.

This has not been my best work but I sincerely hope that you guys are enjoying it.

The last few weeks have been rough because I have been mobbed by exams. Balancing your hobbies and studies is quite difficult. Well, January is going to go peaceful in that sense.

Christmas and New Year is near. What are your plans? Excited for 2025?

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year in advance. Have a great time!

With Love,

Akii.