The series ended, but the result didn't turn out in their favour. Shubman's performance had dipped in the following matches, and it was hard for Pashmina to watch him so disappointed. His usual spark seemed dimmed, and she could tell it weighed heavily on him.

She could see the frustration building in him after each game. His usual spark seemed dimmer, and even though he tried to hide it, she knew how much the game meant to him. Watching him struggle hurt her too, and she wished there was more she could do to lift his spirits.

They were on the plane, heading to California for Pashmina's much-needed closure. She glanced over at Shubman, noticing how he lay there with his eyes closed, though she wasn't sure if he was actually sleeping or just pretending.

Quietly, she intertwined her fingers with his, hoping her touch could offer some comfort. "We can delay my—you know—closure," she whispered, her thumb gently rubbing his hand.

Shubman stirred slightly but didn't open his eyes. "No," he mumbled, his voice low and tired. "This is important for you. We'll go, and I'll be fine."

"Shubman," Pashmina whispered, gently cupping his face with her hand as she leaned in, resting her forehead against his cheek. "You don't need to pressurize yourself for me."

His eyes fluttered open slightly, and he let out a soft sigh. "I'm not," he said, his voice still heavy with exhaustion. "I want to be here for you. You deserve this—your closure, your peace. I can handle the rest."

Pashmina shook her head lightly, her thumb brushing his cheek. "But I don't want you carrying it all when you're already feeling down. It can wait. I need you to be okay too."

Shubman finally opened his eyes fully and met her gaze, the weariness in them unmistakable, but so was the affection. "Being with you helps me, Pashmina. You make it easier to deal with everything."

Pashmina's smile was soft, but tinged with sadness, as she pressed tender kisses along his jawline, each one gentle, as if she could somehow lift the weight he carried. "I hope this closure brings ease to both of us," she whispered, her lips brushing against his skin.

Shubman closed his eyes for a moment, soaking in the warmth of her touch. "It will," he replied softly, his voice steady but laced with vulnerability. "But even if it doesn't happen right away, we'll figure it out. Together."

Pashmina nodded, her forehead resting against his, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breath. "As long as you're with me, I think I can face whatever comes," she said quietly, her words full of quiet determination.

He smiled then, a small but genuine curve of his lips. "Always," he promised, pulling her closer. In that moment, it wasn't about finding the perfect answers or immediate relief. It was about knowing they had each other, through every up and down, no matter how heavy the journey ahead might feel.

Being a holiday for all students, the University of Southern California was unusually quiet, giving Pashmina the perfect opportunity to explore the campus. It felt like she had been transported back in time, revisiting the spaces that held so many memories.

The classrooms were empty, but they reminded her of the day she first laid eyes on Karan, a moment that had sparked something special within her. Wandering through the corridors, she recalled the times they had snuck out of classes, sharing secret smiles and laughter, feeling like they were the only two people in the world.

The cafeteria, usually bustling with students, was eerily silent, yet it brought back vivid memories of cosy afternoons spent with Karan. They would sit in a quiet corner, huddled together, sharing bites of food while stealing glances at her paaji's matches streamed on her phone. Those moments of intimacy felt timeless, encapsulating the warmth and innocence of their early romance.

Last but not least, her favourite part of the campus came into view. Pashmina stumbled forward, tears blurring her vision as she moved toward it, with Shubman right behind her, ensuring she didn't get too overwhelmed.

As she stepped inside, she allowed herself to relive those precious moments as 18-year-old Pashmina Kohli. She turned around and spotted the same old librarian, who regarded her with a look of understanding and pity. The librarian had seen her grow up, had witnessed the love and loss that had shaped Pashmina's journey, and she knew all too well about Karan and how their story had unfolded.

She missed seeing Pashmina and Karan cuddled together in their usual corner on Saturdays, engrossed in the pages of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.

The librarian noticed Pashmina's tears and gently wiped her own as she reached beneath her desk, pulling out an old, worn copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It was the very book Pashmina had left behind on the table before graduation day, the one she never returned to retrieve.

As soon as Pashmina saw the familiar cover, she hurriedly skipped steps to reach the librarian, her heart racing. She took the book into her hands and hugged it tightly to her chest.

"This is mine," she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "I can't believe you still have it."

The librarian smiled gently, her eyes shimmering with understanding. "You left a piece of yourself here, dear. It was only fitting that it waited for you to come back."

Pashmina looked down at the book, tracing the worn edges of the cover with her fingers. Memories flooded back—countless afternoons spent curled up in this very library, losing herself in the magical world of Hogwarts, often sharing those moments with Karan.

Pashmina moved forward in a trance, drawn to the corner of the library that had always been her favourite spot. The cosy nook was filled with plush cushions and soft lighting, making it the perfect escape for a bookworm like her. Shubman followed closely behind, giving a soft smile to the old librarian, appreciating her kindness and understanding.

Pashmina folded her legs beneath her and brushed her hair back from her eyes, feeling a rush of anticipation as she opened the first page of the book. But as soon as she did, a sob escaped her lips. There, nestled between the pages, was a withered rose—the very one Karan had given her when he asked her to the ball. The letter, carefully folded and slightly crinkled, lay next to the rose. She hesitated for a moment before unfolding it, her hands trembling with emotion.

Pashmina pulled the paper closer to her mouth, sobbing softly as she pressed her lips to it, feeling the texture of the letter against her skin. The scent of the aged paper mingled with her tears, creating an intimate connection to the past that she couldn't bear to let go of.

As she pressed her lips against the fragile paper, she could almost feel Karan's presence, as if he were there beside her, sharing in her pain and joy. The letter had been a bridge to a moment in time when everything felt possible, and the world was filled with magic. At that moment, she was transported back to the ball, where the music had swirled around them and his smile had made her heart flutter.

Feeling a rush of warmth mixed with sorrow, she clutched the letter tightly, as if trying to hold onto every feeling it evoked. "I miss you," she whispered into the silence of the library, her voice barely audible. "I miss what we had."

Shubman watched Pashmina cry, and memories he had buried deep inside surged back to the surface. He loved Pashmina, but seeing her surrounded by Karan's tangible memories brought forth his own past experiences—those moments he had tried to forget.

As Pashmina clutched the letter and pressed it to her lips, Shubman felt a pang of longing in his chest. He remembered his heartaches and the times he had wished for something that felt just out of reach.

"Does love have to be this hard?" Shubman thought as his eyes drifted toward his wrist, where the thread lay—still tied, still there, even after he had given up on love. The simple piece of thread seemed to hold the answer, as did the sight of a crying Pashmina beside him.

But when he walked through the doors of Pashmina's room, he saw a mirror of his soul reflected in her. They were two people on a journey, both trying to find their way through their struggles. In that moment, he realized he could love someone again—and maybe even receive that love in return for a lifetime.

He looked up to see Pashmina placing the rose and letter back into the book before shutting it tight as if closing a chapter in her life to begin anew. When she glanced up at Shubman, there was a sense of determination in her eyes.

Shubman looked down at his thread bracelet once more, biting his lip as he made a decision. It was time for him to move on; the person he once loved was never coming back. He realized he had waited long enough, and now it was his turn to embrace love. She had made her choice, and it was time for him to make his.

With a smile on his face, Shubmam looked up and stepped forward, wrapping Pashmina in a warm bear hug. He kissed her forehead gently, feeling a surge of warmth and affection. At that moment, he knew he was ready to start a new life with Pashmina Kohli, embracing all the possibilities and love that lay ahead.

With Pashmina Kohli's past chapter closed, the question lingered: was Shubman Gill's past truly behind him as well? It seemed so, but was it? Or was it time for him to confront the ghosts of his past before he could fully embrace a future with Pashmina?