Back in his washroom, Ram stood under the steady stream of the shower, the water cascading over his body, washing away the remnants of the storm outside. But no amount of water could cleanse his mind of the image that had been seared into it—the flicker of light revealing Priya's face, her eyes deep and dark, brimming with a beauty that he hadn't noticed before.

As he stood there, letting the water beat down on him, the moment replayed in his mind, unbidden. The softness of her touch, the way her eyes had met his, filled with a mix of surprise and something else—something that stirred an unfamiliar feeling within him. For a fleeting second, he had felt a pull, an urge to lean in closer, to explore the depths of those eyes that had caught him off guard.

But just as quickly, he shook the thought from his mind, dismissing it as foolishness. Ram shut off the shower abruptly and reached for a towel, his movements brisk and determined, as if by moving quickly he could outrun the thoughts that were beginning to take root.

He wiped the fog from the mirror and stared at his reflection, his wet hair clinging to his forehead. He could see the tension in his own eyes, a tension that hadn't been there before. "I can't afford this," he muttered to himself, his voice low and resolute. "I can't afford to be drawn towards a woman like her."

He ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back as he tried to regain his composure. The image of Priya's eyes lingered, a shadow in the corners of his mind, but he was determined to push it away. He was Ram Kapoor—confident, successful, who only treats women for his physical needs only.

Brushing off the lingering thoughts, he squared his shoulders, straightening his posture as he looked into the mirror again. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he admired his own reflection, a mask of self-assuredness slipping back into place. "You're too good for this nonsense," he told himself, his voice a touch more confident.

With a final glance at the mirror, Ram turned away, wrapping the towel around his waist as he prepared to face the world once more. But no matter how much he tried to shake it off, the memory of Priya's eyes lingered, like a stubborn whisper in the back of his mind.

That following night, as the moonlight streamed softly through the curtains, Priya sat at her desk, her eyes scanning through a stack of student assignments. The room was quiet, save for the faint rustling of papers and the distant hum of the night outside. Just as she was about to mark another paper, a gentle knock echoed through the room.

"Come in," Priya called out, her focus still on the assignment in front of her.

The door creaked open, and Arohi stepped inside, her small frame silhouetted by the hallway light. Without a word, she made her way over to Priya and sat down beside her, nestling close. Priya glanced down at her daughter, noticing the worry etched in her young face.

"Mumma, can I sleep here tonight?" Arohi asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Priya immediately turned her full attention to her daughter, sensing the unease in her tone. "What is it, sweetheart? Did you have a bad dream?"

Arohi nodded, her eyes wide with lingering fear.

Without hesitation, Priya pushed her work aside, the assignments forgotten. She pulled Arohi into a comforting embrace, wrapping her arms around her daughter as they both settled into the bed. The warmth of Arohi's small body against her own filled Priya with a sense of calm and purpose that no amount of work ever could.

As they lay there, the world outside faded away, leaving only the gentle rise and fall of their breaths in the quiet room. Priya stroked Arohi's hair, whispering soothing words until the tension in her daughter's body began to melt away.

Within moments, Arohi's breathing slowed, her eyes fluttering shut as she drifted into sleep, safe and secure in her mother's arms. Priya held her close, feeling the weight of the day lift as the smoothness of the night embraced them both.

The soft glow of the nightlight cast a gentle halo around them, and in the stillness of the room, mother and daughter surrendered to the peace of the night, their hearts beating in perfect harmony. Priya closed her eyes, letting the serenity of the moment carry her into slumber, Arohi's warmth a reminder of the love that anchored her to the world.

The days that followed were a delicate dance of change and realization within the Kapoor mansion. Ram, with a newfound determination, began to make small, yet significant efforts to rekindle his relationship with Arjun. He started by spending more time at home, taking an interest in his son's activities, and even joining him for meals. Though awkward at first, these moments slowly began to bridge the gap that had long existed between them.

As Ram tried to rebuild his connection with Arjun, he often found himself crossing paths with Priya. She was there every evening, tutoring Arjun with a quiet grace and dedication that did not go unnoticed. At first, their interactions were brief, polite exchanges—nothing more than a few words shared in passing. But as the days went by, Ram began to observe her more closely, noticing things about her that he hadn't before.

It was in the small, unguarded moments that Priya's true nature shone through. The way she patiently explained a concept to Arjun, her voice calm and reassuring. The gentle encouragement she offered when he struggled, never showing frustration, only kindness. Her simple presence seemed to bring out the best in Arjun, drawing him out of his shell in a way that Ram had never managed to do on his own.

There was a simplicity to Priya that captivated Ram—a quiet strength that didn't demand attention, but naturally drew it. She wasn't flashy or overtly confident; she didn't try to impress or seek approval. Yet, in her simplicity, there was a depth, a care that was evident in every interaction she had with Arjun. It was as if she saw something in his son that he had missed, and in doing so, she had begun to see a side of him that he hadn't realized he possessed.

Ram found himself lingering in the hallway outside Arjun's study more often, catching snippets of their tutoring sessions. He listened to the soft murmur of their voices, sometimes catching a laugh from Arjun—something that had become all too rare in their home. Each time he saw Priya, he noticed something new—the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the way her eyes softened when she looked at Arjun, the way she carried herself with quiet confidence.

In those moments, Ram felt a tug at something deep within him. He was captivated not just by her simplicity, but by the genuine care she showed towards his son. It wasn't something he could easily dismiss or ignore. As much as he tried to remain distant, to keep his feelings in check, he found himself drawn to her—drawn to the way she was slowly, without even realizing it, becoming an integral part of their lives.

But with that realization came an unease, a wariness he couldn't quite shake. Ram knew he was treading on dangerous ground. He couldn't afford to be captivated by a woman like Priya, someone who was so different from anyone he had ever known. And yet, despite his best efforts, he found himself wanting to know more about her, to understand the quiet force that had so effortlessly begun to change the dynamic of his home.

In the quiet of her home, Priya stood before the mirror, her fingers nervously adjusting the strands of her hair.

She could hear the faint sounds of her mother bustling about in the kitchen, while Arohi sat on the bed, watching her intently.

"Are you sure about this, Mumma?" Arohi asked, her wide eyes filled with hope.

Priya offered her daughter a small smile, knowing full well that this wasn't a date she was particularly excited about. But Arohi had been so insistent, her little heart set on seeing her mother happy. The thought of disappointing her was more unbearable than the idea of the date itself.

"I'm sure, sweetheart," Priya replied, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. It was a simple outfit, nothing too extravagant, but it was enough to make her look presentable. "It's just dinner, right? How bad could it be?"

Arohi grinned, jumping off the bed to give her mother a tight hug. "You look beautiful, Mumma. I'm sure it'll go great this time!"

Priya chuckled softly, returning the embrace. She admired the optimism in her daughter, even if she herself didn't share it. "Thank you,  Arohi. I'll do my best."

As she made her way to the door, Priya felt a pang of reluctance. The idea of finding love again—or even just someone she could tolerate—felt like an impossible task. But for Arohi's sake, she had agreed to try once more.

"Good luck, Mumma!" Arohi called out, her voice filled with encouragement as Priya stepped outside.

With a deep breath, Priya closed the door behind her, letting the cool evening air wash over her. She knew this date wasn't likely to lead anywhere, but the last thing she wanted was to dampen Arohi's  spirits.

As she walked down the street towards the café where she was supposed to meet her blind date, Priya couldn't help but feel a sense of detachment. But as she approached the café, she pushed those thoughts aside. For Arohi's sake, she would try to make the best of this evening. She could endure a few hours of awkward conversation if it meant seeing the smile on her daughter's face when she returned home.

With that resolve in mind, Priya entered the café, ready to face whatever this blind date had in store.