Silence, that's what dominated her being and the atmosphere of the car. Neither she nor Sidharth wanted to speak anything, or maybe they couldn't.

The car moved, but Khushali felt as if time was moving faster than she thought. It was like as if in a flash, the last few days replayed infront of her eyes. The literature festival, Sidharth and Mayera's drama, Vivan's fake version of truth, the confrontation with Sidharth, the burglary in her parent's home, the revelation, the real truth, her and Sidharth's consummation of their marriage, and lastly today morning. Everything seemed to had taken place in a blur of a moment.
Or maybe in my head, she thought. For, any sane person all the things that had happened in her life in some days seemed surreal to occur one after the other. But it did, and she knew what was about to happen next, would give this nightmarish experience of hers an end, a happy, peaceful end.

"You don't have to do this, we'll work a way out of it." Sidharth squeezed her hand. They had reached Vivan's office, which she didn't notice as her eyes were on the dashboard of the car. A picture of hers with Sidharth and Amaira rested gracefully there, with a beautiful pink frame.

"No, I have to do this," she said, sounding firm. Clairvoyance or not, but she could easily predict that if she backed off of what she was intending to do now, her life would fall into a vicious cycle of deceitfulness that would never let her live in peace or move ahead. She'd be forever stuck on the same phase, the same page she'd been stuck at since last three years.

She couldn't allow herself to move back, not now.

"You're clear with what you have to do?" she asked, looking at Sidharth. There seemed a sly glint in her eyes, but it faded quickly. Replaced again by blankness.

"Yes, I am. But ...," he turned quiet. Sidharth clutched her hand even strongly. As if his life depended on it, as if with her exit, he wouldn't be able to breathe. "What if it goes wrong, what if the timing isn't right, like all the previous times? I don't want to lose you. I love so damn much that I'll be damned if something happened to you. I won't be able to forgive myself ever."

"You won't lose me, ever. I'm to stay in your life till we no longer can walk properly, and will walk only with each other's and our walking sticks' support. Our kids and grandkids will look at us and say: 'They were meant to last this long.' And then I have to make you go bankrupt as well. So no, you're not gonna lose me so soon, Mr. Husband Mehra." she squeezed his hand, and moved closer to peck his cheek.

But before her lips could touch his cheek, she felt Sidharth's lips crashing on hers. Wild and passionate, his kiss was numbing her. Yet it also conveyed what he was trying to speak but his words weren't supportive enough: he loved her and needed her in his life as long as he lived.
She realised it, as well.
In response to his kiss, Khushali was equally fervent. Her lips moved in the same rhythm as his, both didn't wish to stop. The fear of losing each other loomed around them, both knew.

However, it dawned on Khushali that she had to break apart or else Sidharth would never let her go. So, she pushed him slightly and without waiting to hear anything more, she marched toward the entrance of the office of Malhotras.

Her eyes were moist, it did hurt her heart to leave Sidharth behind. But she had come so far, that now looking back only would turn fatal for her and for those who mattered to her.

"Come, Ma'am. Sir's been waiting for you in his office."
She hadn't notice, certainly because of her glassy vision, but Ronak was standing just at the entrance of Vivan's office.

Startled for a few seconds on hearing his voice, Khushali quickly regained her composure. Ronak gestured her to follow him, and she did.

He led her to Vivan's office. While on her way, she passed by Sagar's old office. Her legs had halted on the tracks for a moment. Without her knowledge, her feet moved to stand infront of the glass door of his office.
It was locked, but still in the same manner as earlier with the decor in red and black. The walls were covered with his photographs with his family, her and his degrees. His trophies rested beneath them. And on the bookshelf, were books she had forcefully made him stack it with books gifted to him by her.

Nothing had changed in this office, only the essence of Sagar and his livelihoodness was missing. And she knew, it would never come back ever.

"Welcome, Khush―No, no, Mrs. Khushali Sidharth Mehra. Welcome to my office," greeted Vivan, a fake smile on his bearded face. "Hope you like the decor and interior. I haven't changed a single thing here, everything is still very much of Sagar's taste."

"But does it really matter?" snapped Khushali, moving to stand infront of him. She stood right behind the greyish black wooden office table of Vivan's office. "Oh, I think it does since it helps you grab some pity. 'Oh, Vivan loves his brother so much that he hasn't changed the interior and still keeps it in the manner Sagar had got it designed.' You live for this pity and sympathy, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. Because getting a brand new brother is not possible, as it is for getting a new lover or even a husband, like you," he replied, his hands fisted over the table. The muscles of his forearms were so stiff, just like his facial expression which wasn't sly, that for a second Khushali wondered whether he took a dig at her, or there was some emotion behind it.

"Really? If that is so, then what are we doing here? Where was this love when you were framing your brother's friends in fake cases? When you had tried to get me―your brother's ex-fiancee―attacked, just to get something you thought was with me? Or your love for your deceased brother is sham? Or maybe it really is!"
Her hands gripped the chair headrest as her body shook with anger. The despise and fury that had been building up inside her, was now coming out. She had no control over it.

"I had to, I had no choice," he answered after few minutes of silence. "But you can't say that I didn't love my younger brother, because I did. I always have, he was my brother and will always be. Even when his life has seized to exist, he is my brother and my love for him hasn't decreased even a bit."

However, his answer only made Khushali scoff at him in disbelief. Perhaps because she knew how ruthlessly he had killed his own brother and framed others with his conspiracies and scheming. But something in his voice did vouche for the genuineness his words held. Khushali couldn't guess.

"You loved him, you loved him? Wow! Big, unexpected revelation!" she clapped her hands in a mocking manner. "If you really did, you never would've killed your brother, you never would've slayed your younger brother in cold blood. But you did! You killed him, Vivan! You murdered him! So, now please stop this phoney drama of yours. I know the truth."

She passed him a rageful glare, which if in her might, would've killed him. But it didn't. Because what she saw next, only lessened her rage.

Standing infront of her, wasn't the duplicitous Vivan. Rather, he was a forlorn man, who seemed vincible and timid.

But how ... and why? The question lingered in her mind.

She continued to stare at him, to find the man she hated. But she could not find even a glimpse of the man who she had started despising after learning the truth. The man infront of her wasn't malevolent, he was really ... frail and destructible.

Am I hallucinating?

But she knew, she wasn't. He was desolate, but wasn't he the callous man who had destructed her life in such a calamitous manner that she no longer could look back and claim that this wasn't her.

"It's not a 'phoney' drama. And its upto you what you want to believe. Can we please start with our negotiation rather than discussing this?" he asked, his tone devoid of his otherwise crudeness.

"Oh, negotiation. Surely we'll do it, but before that answer me why did you kill Sagar. For money? For property? For what, Vivan?" she questioned, agitated. She still stood behind the table, but her eyes were now gazing at a picture of Vivan with Sagar on the wall behind Vivan, probably when both were in their teens. This, again, made her wonder whether the truth she knew had some loopholes. Yet, she maintained her infuriated composure.

"No, I didn't kill him, not for anything. Can we now please move to negotiating and end this questionnaire?" he asked, but sounded more like pleading. Atleast that's what Khushali presumed.

She walked to stand infront of the Vivan, who moved to stand near the glass window from which the entire office premise was visible. Khushali didn't give up, and strode upto him. She pulled him back and made him face her, before speaking.

"If this wasn't what you were after, then why did you kill Sagar? He was your brother, your own flesh and blood! How could you let money blind you to such extent that you killed your brother in cold blood? How could stoop so low? Answer me, Vivan!" she demanded, her eyes full of rage and raw hatred. But even then the hints of remorse and fear in Vivan's eyes didn't go unnoticed.

What's wrong?

"I didn't kill him, I could never do that. You've just been filled with false stori―" he tried to reason, but couldn't continue as Khushali cut his speech.

"Then how did Sagar die? And don't lie to me this time, we both know a car collision couldn't leave scars of stabbing on someone's body," she stated, her voice firmer than ever. But her lips quivered, the answer to her question was debilitating and unexpected.

Vivan stared at her, without moving or averting his gaze from her. His lips trembled and eyes turned glassy. And that softened Khushali.

He turned to face the window again. A lone tear escaped his eye, which Khushali saw him wipe quickly. She called out to him, but he didn't turn back. She couldn't decipher what he was trying to do.

Did he really not kill Sagar? But then who― she began to muse, but stopped abruptly when she heard his voice.

"Sagar wasn't supposed to die. I never wanted him to die. It was an accident. I never intended to kill him. I loved him, he was my brother ... my baby brother. I could never ever think to kill him, I-I c-could n-never," he choked, covering his face with his palms. His back still to Khushali. "What happened that day, wasn't what I had expected. Infact I never w-wanted S-Sagar to get involved into any of this, t-the things I was d-dealing with. But he―"

"And you killed him, right? Because he tried to probe into you― "

"He didn't listen to me. I told him to go back home, that we'll discuss the matter later. But he didn't, and he was ... killed." he hung his head low. He seemed guilt-ridden and mournful.

Khushali took a step closer to stand beside him. She kept her hand on his shoulder. For a moment, she forgot her hatred for him. Instead, she decided to handle this calmly.
"How did he die, Vivan, if you didn't kill him? Tell me. You were my friend, right? Before we landed ourselves in this situation. Please, for the sake of our friendship, tell me the real truth. Tell me the truth, your side of truth. Please. And I promise, in return I'll give you the package. But for the one last time, speak up the real truth. No lies, no games, no sham, just the truth."

But Vivan didn't react. He stood still. With his unresponsiveness, Khushali assumed he would not speak. So, she turned toward the table where she had kept her bag. She started to take out the documents, when Vivan spoke again, this time even more distraught and ashamed.

"Fine, I will. The Sagar died...."
And he began narrating his side of story, the truth even Sidharth wasn't aware of.

"Sir, Sagar Sir has come to meet you. He's waiting for you in the mill manager's office." Vivan's P.A. informed him. Vivan had come on inspection of their company's mill where most of the fabrics were prepared. The Malhotras had a family business of textiles which were mostly for importing along with a chain of hotels sprawled in some of the metropolitan cities of India.

"No, tell him to come here only." he instructed his P.A., who promptly left to carry his reply back to Sagar.

Within few minutes, Sagar came to meet him in the testing room where the quality of the fabrics was tested. Vivan was inspecting a sample of fabric that had to be imported to a client in UK.

"Vivan Bhai, do you have some minutes to spare?" asked Sagar, sounding his usual self. Though, Vivan immediately noticed the vague glumness in his voice.

"Yeah sure, I can. But are you okay?" he asked, keeping the fabric aside. He gestured toward the chairs, which were in the testing room. He settled on one, and said, "By the way, why are you sounding so grim? Is everything alright or did you fight with Raima again and your Khushali again took her best friend's side instead of you?"
But Sagar didn't laugh, which made Vivan realise that Sagar was here for some serious business. He instantly signalled his P.A. to move out of the room.
"Tell me, Sagar, what's wrong? Why are you upset?"

"Why did you tamper with our company's financial statistics? Why did you show losses in the data when we had clearly made profit with our last few deals? Why did you do frauds in our own business which you have yourself worked hard to expand and make it attain the reputation it enjoys now? Why, Bhai?" questioned a teary Sagar, fidgeting with the files he had been holding in his hands. "And most of all, answer me, why have you invested the money you took from our company in Rehaan's business where you don't have enough shares either?"

Sagar's questions left Vivan dumbfounded, he didn't know how to react. He had noticed Sagar acting strangely for last few days and believe it was because of their company's legal attorney Sidharth Mehra's fault. He had thought that it was Sidharth who had been influencing his cousin brother, who otherwise had always trusted him blindly. But this changed once Sagar befriended Sidharth.

"I don't think I'm answerable to you, atleast right now. We shouldn't be discussing this here, this is not the right place to talk about this. Go home, Sagar, we'll discuss this later." Vivan tried to dismiss Sagar.

But Sagar was adamant to confront Vivan, right where they were.

"You have done this all because of granddad's stupid will, haven't you? I know you were upset with the way granddad has divided his property and our company's shares. Infact I had have tried many times to make him understand that it's not fair. But why you have tried to ruin your own family's business, for which so much hard work and time has been invested, even your owns? Huh, Vivan Bhai? Answer me," said Sagar, his voice still calm. Certainly, his composed demeanour was always envied by people around him.

"Yes, I did, happy? Now go home, we'll talk about this later, Sagar. Not now," Vivan said, again busying himself in examining the samples. Under his breath, he added, "You won't understand."

Yet again, Sagar didn't leave. And he also heard what Vivan had said.

"What I won't understand, Bhai? Huh? I will, just try to explain it once to me. I will try my best to understand it. Please." And like this, Sagar continued to pester Vivan to speak the issues that had led him to do what he had done, apart from the will. Sagar did guess that there was something else that had been a constant botherment to Vivan and certainly somewhere had led to all the chicanery that his brother had committed in both the companies.

"Enough, Sagar!" said Vivan when he could no longer tolerate Sagar's continuous persuasion.
He got up from the chair and closed the door of the room. This conversation should rather stay private, between him and his brother.
"I know your smart enough to guess that granddad's will has compelled to do such drastic things, but do you even know how this is not the first time? Time and again, this discrimination between us has always been there in our family where you were given everything you wanted, even before he spoke it out while I had to stay contented with whatever I was being given because unlike you I wasn't an only child? Haven't you ever seen how you were praised for even the smallest of your achievements while I was scolded for even the tiniest mistake I committed? Were you blind all the time I was chided for lacking business acumen while you were praised for decisions that I would've also taken in the similar situations? Haven't you ever noticed how you have always been favoured over me, even when you never wanted to join our family business?"

He paused for a moment, to study Sagar's face. From his facial expressions, Vivan could guess that Sagar was trying his best to comprehend what Vivan was saying. So he continued.

"Just one mistake, one mistake I did three years back when I had newly joined the business and the company had to face a loss of 5 lakhs because of that. You know what I was told that time by our family's elders, 'You are useless, you don't deserve to be handling our business', 'Sagar would do better than you,' etc etc. You know what hurt me the most was that even my own father didn't support me. He always felt that it would've better if you were his son and not me. How I wish I could tell him that I never liked being his son, either. But even more than this what stabbed me is that the constant comparison between the two of us. We're different individuals, right? So why to compare us? But no they did, and still do. And I really don't think what I have done is wrong. If I'm not worthy enough to run this company, then why can't use the money that I have with my shares and build an empire for myself? What's erroneous in that?"

"It's unethical, Bhai," said Sagar, keeping his hand on Vivan's shoulder. "I understand what you've been through but it's incorrect to cheat our family out of its hard work, isn't it? I know you've suffered enough, and I'm ready to compensate for that. I'll transfer my shares on your name, in fact I'll resign from my post. You know I never wanted to join our family business, I rather wanted to become a travel journalist. I'll pursue this dream of mine. But you promise me that you'll put an end to this unscrupulous work of yours. And I swear I won't let anyone come to know about it, not even Sidharth or Rehaan or anyone from our family. Trust me!"

For few minutes, Vivan remained quiet. He contemplated what Sagar had just told me. He knew his brother loved him, but he didn't want this charity from him.

"No, I don't want your charity. I'll earn it on my own―"

"It's not charity," cried Sagar immediately, "You rightly deserve it, not me. I haven't done anything to deserve it, I haven't worked at all to get this. You deserve it. I don't. I swear, I don't want a single penny, you keep it. Its rightfully yours, not mine."

But Vivan was in no mood to listen to him. He stormed out of the room, with Sagar following behind him. As he knew Sagar was following him, he increased his pace. Sagar did manage to keep up for a while. However, soon the sound of Sagar's footsteps stopped reaching Vivan. It made him anxious, because as far as he knew Sagar, Sagar would never give up on pacifying Vivan until Vivan gave in. But what happened this time, Vivan couldn't guess.

He ran back to see Sagar, but he fell back on the ground when he saw why had held Sagar back. Piercing his abdomen, was a spinning needle that had been taken out of the machine for repair. Sagar had slipped when he ran behind Vivan to pacify him and the fell on the spinning needle which was just a step away from him.

Vivan―when he regained his senses―swiftly rushed to his brother's aid and tried to remove the spinning needle from Sagar's abdomen. But it only worsened Sagar's condition, who seemed to be losing his consciousness. He bled profusely, inching closer to losing his breath.

"Sagar, don't lose your consciousness, I'll take you the hospital right away. Just try to stay awake," he told Sagar, before calling out to his P.A. to help him out.

With his P.A.'s help, he rushed Sagar to the nearest hospital but Sagar was pronounced dead when they reached the hospital. Vivan didn't know what to do, he was scared of the consequences. But just then, he received a call from Ronak and he knew what he had to do....

"He wasn't meant to die, I had tried my best to save him. If you don't believe me, I'll ask my P.A. to confirm it you and also I have the CCTV footage of that day which I had retained with myself. I never killed him, it was accident!" cried Vivan. "I never could imagine to kill my brother. I could never." He punched the wall in frustration, before slumping down on the floor. He cried.

Khushali sinked to the floor as well, but whether in stupefaction or because of the blow she just received, she herself didn't know. If earlier she had been shattered, anguished to know the truth, she was inconsolable now. For the fate that Sagar had, only aggravated her agony.

"But why did you put the blame on Rehaan, when you knew Sagar didn't die because of him? Why did y-you f-frame and blackmail him and h-his f-friends when they weren't at fault?" catechized Khushali, still sitting on the floor with her head hung. Vivan was still crying.

Despite the despondent truth, she had to know why had Vivan involved others in this game of family politics that had not only costed his brother's death but had also blurred the thin line of difference between right and wrong for him.

"Because it was Sidharth, and his so-called friends because of whom Sagar had pressed on probing the issues in our office. It was after Sidharth had filled him up with stuff about my deals and investments, that Sagar began to do his investigation which led to him confronting me that day ... and to his death. Why shouldn't had I got these people framed for they were the people to snatch my brother's life," he bitterly responded, his words coated with raw hatred and loathe. But he then again buried his face in his palm and weeped. His loss was genuine, his reasons too, but his way of avenging it, wasn't.

"They were not responsible for what happened to Sagar, it was us." a male voice echoed in the Vivan's office, making both him and Khushali to get up and look toward the source of voice. A man was standing at the entrance of the office door, behind another man stood along with two women, one of whom was Suhasi, Sagar's mother. The man was Vivan's father, Sujoy Malhotra.

"The fault wasn't yours, it was ours! Maybe if we had learnt our lesson before, Sagar would've been alive. So, it isn't you who deserves to be punished, it's us." said Sujoy, shame and guilt very well manifested in his words.

But Khushali wondered, whether it would still change the kismet of each and every person who had become a part of this ugly game. The family politics that had ruined the childhood of Vivan and Sagar's life, was being sorry for it change anything. She highly doubted that, but remained quiet.

Sagar's parents were silent, as well, and so did Sidharth who had brought them here. Before coming to Vivan's office, Sidharth had put a microphone in Khushali's handbag. He had then called the entire Malhotra family to Vivan's office and made hear to the conversation between Vivan and Khushali which took place in Vivan's office.

Though, Khushali had objected it, Sidharth had kept it as a condition to allow her to for negotiation. He wanted Sagar's parents to know the truth, especially Suhasi who had assumed Khushali as the main culprit of Sagar's death. But hopefully, this would change.

The words began to be spoken between Vivan and his parents, but Sagar's parents and Khushali and Sidharth maintained a voiceless equanimity. Only when the commotion between Vivan and his parents ended, did Suhasi spoke up.

"I agree with your mother, Vivan, that you do deserve a severe, unforgettable punishment for the lives you have ruined. But its not us who has the right to punish you, it's Khushali. Because more than us, it's her who had suffer every indignity, ignominy and the tag of being a bad omen. She's the one who should penalize you, not me, not your mother, not anyone else. But her."
She then turned to Khushali, and gestured her to speak.

However, Khushali had already made up her mind as she knew what Sagar wanted her to do.

But remember one thing, despite what all bad deeds a person do, they do deserve forgiveness. Because the power that forgiveness has, I don't think anything else is so potent to even compare.
And it'll only let go, when the last chapter is forgotten and forgiven, and not buried deep in earth. For that requires a little deception, because black doesn't always support the lies.

Sagar had subtly conveyed his wish to her, the course action that he wanted her to take. And she would stand by it.

"I forgive him."
Her answer shocked everyone, except Sidharth and Suhasi, maybe Vivan. Perhaps, they knew this what Sagar would've done, and wanted to happen.
"I can take my revenge, make him suffer as much I have. But I don't want to. I don't want to live with grudges that'll always belong to my past. I want to move on in life, and only forgiveness can do that. So, I forgive him."

And with this, she left the room. She had won. Not a player since the beginning, but she had emerged as the winner. Because finally, she had learnt her lesson that Sagar wanted her to learn.
Deception will always play its trick, but the real victory comes from forgiveness, not grudges and revenge.

And the question that had bugged for since Vivan revealed to her the truth of Sagar's death, how did Sagar know he was about to die. She knew the answer well: his intuition. That's what was the difference between him and Sidharth was, Sagar was intuitive while Sidharth believed facts. And both taught Khushali lessons that no one else could.

The charges on Rehaan and Arhaan were lifted off, and Jay's suspension was taken back. The company that Vivan had taken from Rehaan and Arhaan was returned back, and he was forgiven. Kapoors and Mehras were informed at last about the entire drama, and they could only sigh in relief.

But one thing was left, and that was for Khushali to part with her past, completely for the last time.

Maybe that will be the time when my life would give you a closure to me and my love for you.
The day you'll solve this riddle, you'll be ready to part with my memories as well.

She walked slowly, her grip on the wooden box tightened. It was time when she put it aside, symbolically her past as well. She now truly had to move on, and for that the box and the memories it homed, had to be burned away.

"Fire would only erase its existent, but would it ever truly erase it from your heart and your mind? Or the memories, you've so long cherished? Will the fire ever take away what not even time could snatch from you, Khushali?"

Taken aback, she didn't see her husband following behind her when she made her way to the terrace of her maiden residence. The rest of their families were downstairs. She had excused herself to complete this one last task.
She had came here to burn the box and the gifts of Sagar that she had so long kept hidden away from the prying eyes of the world. But her husband's question, made her heart wonder whether burning it was really the only solution?

"What other choice do I have?" she quizzed, a little remorse, a little guilt. "I can no longer live this dual life of mine: Khushali Kapoor, the lover of the much dead Sagar Malhotra, and Khushali Mehra, wife to Sidharth Mehra. I only want to be your wife now, Sidharth. The months starting from our marriage till last week, has only made me realise that it's possible to fall in love twice, but I can't continue to love both, not simultaneously, nor equally. To be at peace, I shall choose one of you, and I'm wiser enough to know to that holding onto death is surely foolish when I can cherish my life with the man who's very much living and in love with me."

A pain in her eyes for giving up on Sagar, so dominant that she couldn't dare look at Sidharth. For the fear that he would see that she maybe she wasn't just yet ready to put her past with Sagar to rest. It would do no good to her, or to him, and maybe to Sagar either. To bring back the normalcy and emotional security she had been craving for past three years, it was necessary for her to let go of her past ... or let it consume her existence again.

"Will you mind if I share a secret of mine―that I have never shared with anyone else―with you? Though I'm not sure how well you'll take it." he sounded full of uncertainty but with affirmation that he was doing the right thing.
He stood a few steps away from her.

Khushali couldn't think of a response, her mind had already began coming up with theories as to what he wanted to share with her.
She gave a small nod, which Sidharth would've unnoticed had he been not staring at Khushali.

"The time when we got married―I hope you know already that only a few months before that Mayera and I had broken up―I had had resentment towards you. Maybe, a little hatred too ... perhaps, like you had for me for trying to take Sagar's place in your life." he paused, scared that Khushali's sentiments were hurt. But she smiled, slightly amusedly. He continued, "I know I never showed it to you, like you did by being aloof and distant in those initial months of our marriage, not that you didn't try to move on. But I know the bitterness one feels when the person we love gets replaced by another with whom we never imagined our future―I was experiencing the same bitterness. So, I couldn't blame you ... and certainly because I had started harbouring feelings for you. But I couldn't let you know that, because I thought it might also bring out the anger I had towards you, for rudely ending my perfect love story, though it clearly wasn't your fault. Also, I was drowning again in my majorly self afflicted pain, Mayera had found love in Arjun. And as much as I loved her and wished her to be bestowed by all the happiness and bliss she deserved in this world, I could never accept that she could love another man, while I was alive, with the same intensity and love that she had for me. It was debilitating, but maybe I deserved it."
With this he silenced, or Khushali thought so.

"I never imagined ... that you could be resentful towards me, but I don't blame you, not when I know that I deserve it. But it does hurt, now when I know we both just want to be each other's," she sighed, a smile still playing on her lips. "Besides, I'm unable to find any association between your theory of fire and this secret of you. Can you be a little more explicit?"

"Yes, of course," he said, but his voice faltered. He gripped the railings of the terrace wall, vaguely tight, perhaps to collect himself together. "The link between the two is simple, I tried to burn my memories with Mayera when I realised that you are my fate and Arjun is Mayera's. I thought it would lessen my grief, probably ending my sufferings, but I couldn't do it. I loved her, and her memories were like the last pieces of life that were keeping me sane, when not even your presence was helping. Because that was the time when you didn't feel anything for me, while I had an ocean of feelings for you ... okay exaggeration ... only a glass full of feelings, and Mayera's memories were the only thing in my life that made me feel ... loved ... the same way Sagar's memories made you feel all this while. And I know, just like I found it hard to burn it away, you can't do it either. Because in that fire, it's not only these gifts made of plastic and paper, it's a part of you that'll be burned too. And without it, you won't be able to survive. I learned that, already ... twice."

"Then what shall we do?" she mumbled, putting her hand over his. "Let it stay in our lives for some more time?"

"Maybe, because not all memories are meant to be burned down. Lets keep them safe for some time, then we'll decide what we shall do with it, okay?" he prompted, half hugging Khushali.

"Yes," she replied, resting her head on his shoulder.

Silence prevailed as few moments passed. Both remained where they were, until Sidharth decided to speak up.

"Khushali, you know I was thinking that we should really to stick to idea of having a volleyball team. Though I would love to make a cricket team with you, but let's stick to five kids. Aur ek do bacche extra, what say?" he grinned cheesily, playing with the strap of Khushali's shirt.

Khushali raised her brows. Her husband was surely an individual, and there wasn't anyone like her in this entire world.
"Sure. But since you're obsessed with sport teams, why not a lawn tennis doubles team? That is cool na?"

"Yes, but I can't resist you," he pecked her lips. His arms were wrapped around her, while hers were snaked around his neck.

"You don't have to, either," she winked back. And before she could say anything more, her husband pulled her in for a kiss. This time, they didn't have to move apart, marking their beginning, the new chapter of life they were embarking on.

A true beginning is only when the past is ready to bid you adieu. The doors need to be closed shut, for even a tiny space can help it come haunting back.