Author's POV

“I’m going back to Lucknow… with Chote Papa and Choti Maa.”

The words slipped out of Saaisha’s mouth so calmly that for a moment, no one reacted.

They just stood there frozen, eyes widening as her voice lingered in the air like an echo that refused to fade.

Siya was the first one to speak, her tone sharp with disbelief.

“What? When and why?”

The three beside her only nodded in silent agreement, their faces mirroring the same shock. “Haan…” was all they managed to say.

Saaisha gave a soft, almost reassuring smile. “Yes, I’m going. By tomorrow.”

She paused, her fingers fidgeting with the end of her dupatta before she added quietly,

“And about why…? Well, today or tomorrow, I have to go back anyway. I’m healed now, and my voice… it’s back.”

Her words were simple, but they carried weight, the kind that pressed against everyone’s chest.

No one said anything after that. They just exchanged quiet glances and slowly made their way inside.

Deep down, none of them wanted her to leave.

She wasn’t just a guest anymore, she had become a part of them, a missing piece that had fit so perfectly into their family that the thought of her absence already felt like loss.

But when she said today or tomorrow, I have to go, none of them could find the right words to make her stay.

Because how do you ask someone not to leave when they believe it’s time?

Saaisha noticed. She saw the silence in their eyes, the heaviness in their steps. She knew what they weren’t saying.

And even though her own heart tugged painfully, she forced a cheerful smile to lighten the air.

“Wait here,” she said brightly, clapping her hands once.

“I’ve made something for you all.”

They looked at her, confused, but obeyed settling down in the hall.

A few minutes later, Meera and Rajveer  (Shaurya and Siya’s parents) joined them, curious about the sudden commotion.

Moments later, Saaisha reappeared from the hallway, carrying a few neatly wrapped bags in her hands. A maid followed behind her, holding more. She placed them carefully on the center table and turned toward everyone with a warm, almost shy smile.

“These are for you all,” she said softly.

“Just a small thank you, for… everything.”

She picked up the first two packets and walked toward Rajveer and Meera.

Her steps were steady, but her voice trembled slightly when she spoke.

“Uncle, Aunty… this is for you.”

Rajveer opened his packet first. Inside was a jar full of rasgullas, tied with a golden ribbon and a small handwritten note stuck on the lid.

‘Thank you, Uncle, for always fulfilling my needs like a father does for his daughter.
Just like these rasgullas, you tried to fill my life with sweetness.’

Rajveer’s eyes softened. For a moment, he didn’t speak. He just smiled a small, emotional curve of his lips that said everything words couldn’t.

“Yeh sab zarurat nahi thi, beta,” he murmured.

(You didn't need to do all of these.)

Saaisha’s eyes glimmered.
“I know. But I wanted to.”

Then she turned to Meera, handing her another packet.

Inside was a jar full of cookies, delicately packed, with another small note

‘Thank you, Aunty, for always looking after me like your own daughter.
Like a cookie that balances the bitterness of tea, your love and care balanced the darkest phase of my life.’

Meera’s eyes welled up. She reached out, cupped Saaisha’s face, and whispered,
“Tumhare bina ghar bilkul acha nahi  lagega.”

(This house will not be same after you left)

Saaisha smiled softly.
“I’ll visit, I promise.”

But they both knew, a promise can’t always stop a goodbye.

In Meera and Rajveer’s hearts, a silent ache bloomed. They didn’t just call her their daughter - they felt it.

And now, watching her prepare to leave reminded them of the shadow of someone they’d lost long ago… and how this girl had unknowingly filled that space again.

They didn’t want to lose her too.

Next, she picked up another packet and turned to Siya with a bright grin.

“For my Siya di,” she said, her voice dipping with affection.

Siya opened it carefully, inside were limited-edition fiction books, each signed by the author. Her eyes widened in shock and delight. Attached to the top was a note written in Saaisha’s neat handwriting:

‘Thank you, Siya di, for all your support and care.
You’re like those characters in books we never knew we needed,
but once they arrive, they make a home in our hearts.
I’ll miss you the most, di.’

Siya didn’t even try to stop the tears that brimmed in her eyes. Words failed her. She simply stood, pulled Saaisha into a tight hug, and whispered against her hair,

“I’ll miss you too, you little emotional fool.”

Saaisha chuckled softly.
“I knew you would.”

Then came Veer. She picked up a box and handed it to him with a playful tilt of her head.

“For you,” she said.

He opened it to find a box full of cheesecakes, each a different flavor. There was a note placed neatly inside:

 ‘Thank you, Veer bhai.
Just like we don’t realize we need cheesecake when we already have cake,
I didn’t know I needed a brother, until you entered my life calling me princess.’

Veer froze for a second, his jaw tightening as he tried to swallow the sudden wave of emotion that hit him.

He wasn’t used to gestures like this not the warmth, not the care, not the way she had made her place in their world so naturally.

She could have just left. A simple thank you would have been enough.

But she didn’t. She put effort, thought, and love into it  something that hit deeper than he expected.

Siya noticed the way his eyes softened and gently squeezed his hand.

Veer blinked, looked from Siya to Saaisha, and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thank you,” he said, voice low but sincere.

Saaisha smiled. “Anytime, bhai.”

Then came Ryan.

He sat with his arms crossed, pretending to look unimpressed but everyone knew better.

When she handed him a small packet, he frowned.
“Mere liye?”
(For me?)

“Yes, of course,” Saaisha said with a playful roll of her eyes.

“You trained me, didn’t you? You made me stronger, even if your methods were… bitter.”

Ryan snorted. “That’s called discipline.”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” she teased.

He opened the packet, inside were sugar-free pastries and a note.

‘Thank you, Ryan bhai.
I know you don’t eat sugar, so don’t worry.. these are sugar-free but still sweet.
Just like your bitter training not easy to like, but healthy enough to make me stronger.’

Ryan’s jaw tightened, but the corners of his lips twitched slightly. When he looked up at her, his eyes softened in a way they rarely did.

“I’m not your brother,” he said quietly.

Saaisha giggled, leaning forward mischievously.
“I know, I know… Ryan bhhhaaaaiiiyaaa.”

That earned a collective laugh from everyone. Even Ryan’s lips curved into a reluctant smile, shaking his head in defeat.

The air in the room lightened with warmth and laughter  until all eyes turned toward Shaurya.

He hadn’t moved from his spot, just stood there, watching her the whole time.

His gaze was calm, steady… but there was something else beneath it. Something that burned quietly, the kind of emotion he didn’t let the world see.

When Saaisha looked at him, she realized there was no packet left on the table.

Everyone else had received their gifts.. except him.

Her lips parted slightly as she took a small step toward him.

“I didn’t get anything for you…” she began softly.

“I knew what everyone else liked, so I made something special for them. But you…” she hesitated, her voice lowering, “I didn’t know what you would like. So…”

She trailed off, unsure what else to say.

For a moment, no one spoke. The silence stretched, delicate and heavy.

Shaurya’s eyes didn’t leave her. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until there was barely a breath of space between them.

He leaned down slightly, his voice low meant only for her.

“Then figure it out,” he murmured. “Because you’re not leaving before giving me my gift, Lotus.”

Her breath hitched, eyes flickering up to his. For a second, she forgot to blink.

He straightened, his expression unreadable, and walked past her  heading upstairs without another word.

Saaisha stood there frozen, still hearing his voice echo in her head.

You’re not leaving before giving me my gift, Lotus.

Her fingers brushed against her heart unconsciously.

“What gift…” she whispered under her breath, confused  yet somehow, a tiny smile curved her lips.

.

.

.

Ryan was driving back home, one hand lazily on the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh, a neat white box of sugar-free pastries on the back seat.

The sun was setting, the road half empty  everything calm and quiet.

Until..

THUD.

His car jolted forward as something pink flashed in front of him. Ryan slammed the brakes and muttered under his breath,

“Not again… why, God, why?”

He stepped out of the car, jaw tightening when he saw a pink scooty lying sideways, and beside it - her.

The same girl...

Anmol Kaur.

She stood there with her arms crossed, glaring at him like she was ready to throw her helmet at his face.

Ryan folded his arms too, staring back. “Move from the front. I have to go.”

Anmol’s glare didn’t waver.
“Say sorry.”

Ryan blinked, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “What?”

“I said,” she repeated, raising her chin, “say sorry.”

He gave a humourless chuckle.
“Lady, move your toy scooter. I don’t have all day.”

Anmol’s nostrils flared. “Toy? TOY?”

she stepped closer, her voice rising. “Dare you insult my Phoolkumari again!”

Ryan frowned.
“Who the hell is Phoolkumari?”

Anmol placed her palm protectively on the dented scooty. “My scooty,” she said, dead serious.
“And you just hit her. Now say sorry.”

Ryan tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes.
“You named your scooter Phoolkumari?”

Anmol glared harder.
“At least she’s loyal and doesn’t bump into people like you!”

That did it. Ryan burst out laughing, that deep, throaty laugh that only made Anmol’s anger boil further.

“You find this funny?” she shouted, taking a step toward him.

“You men are all the same! Make a mistake and can’t even say one simple sorry because your ego’s the size of this car!”

Ryan’s smile faded. His jaw tightened, eyes darkening. He stepped closer, so close she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.

“Watch your words,” he said lowly.

Anmol didn’t back off.
“Or what? You’ll glare at me? Scare me? I’m not scared of you, Mister Giant!”

Ryan clenched his fist, controlling his temper. Without another word, he brushed past her, muttering,
“Enough of this nonsense.”

“Where are you going? Running away because you can’t apologize?” she shouted from behind.

“Coward!”

Ryan stopped dead in his tracks, shoulders stiffening. He turned his head slightly, his gaze sharp enough to freeze the air - a warning.

But Anmol being Anmol, didn’t care.

“What?” she said, folding her arms. “Why are you glaring like that? I’m not scared of your angry face!”

Ryan didn’t reply. He opened his car door, got in, and rolled down the window. “Fine,” he said, voice calm - too calm.

“If you want sorry that badly…”

He started the engine, and before Anmol could move her scooty, Ryan accelerated  just enough to make her gasp as the wind whooshed past.

Her beloved Phoolkumari wobbled and fell to the side again, the mirror cracking.

Anmol froze.

“PHOOLKUMARI!” she screamed, running to her scooty’s side as if it were a fallen comrade.

Ryan stopped the car a few feet away, rolled the window down again, and looked at her with that damn smirk. “Sorry…” he drawled, “Miss Anmol  and her Phoolkumari.”

Her head snapped up, eyes blazing. “You!”

“Ryan Singhania,” he cut her off, smirk widening.

“Remember the name. Because from now on, I won’t let you forget it.”

He winked once  infuriatingly  before pulling away.

Anmol’s blood boiled. She looked around, grabbed the nearest brick, and hurled it toward his car with all her strength.

CRASH.

And she shouted, “I hate you ryan sighania.”

The rear windshield of his BMW shattered. Ryan hit the brakes, eyes wide. The pastry box on the backseat flipped over, smashing against the seat, Ryan looked at them and their shapes were destroyed completely.

Ryan turned back, exhaling sharply, jaw tightening again. He muttered, “I hate you, Anmol Kaur.”

Both drove off  in opposite directions  hearts racing, anger burning, and a strange spark neither wanted to admit.

.

.

.

Saaisha quietly pushed open the office door, balancing a small tray in her hands. Shaurya was buried in his work, his eyes glued to the laptop screen. She didn’t make a sound, stepping softly inside, yet before she could even announce her presence, his voice filled the room.

“Kahiye, Lotus… kya chahiye?”

(Say, lotus.. What do you want?)

Saaisha startled, almost dropping the tray. Her brows furrowed as she looked at him, he hadn’t even lifted his eyes from the screen.

How does he always know? she thought, shaking her head with a small sigh before sitting down in the chair opposite him.

Shaurya finally glanced up. His gaze moved from her to the tray two cups of tea sat neatly upon it. Just as he reached for one, Saaisha lightly tapped the back of his hand.

“That’s mine,” she said softly, a teasing glint in her eyes.
“And I don’t share what’s mine.”

For the first time that morning, something flickered across Shaurya’s face something unreadable, fleeting. He picked up the other cup, closing his laptop before taking a slow sip.

“I’ve made your gift too,” Saaisha said, breaking the silence.

Shaurya hummed in response. No smile. No warmth. Just that quiet, guarded hum that made her heart sink a little.

She placed a folded sheet of paper on the desk and slid it toward him. He looked at it, but didn’t flip it over.

Instead, he leaned back slightly, eyes fixed on her. “Apko jaane ki itni jaldi hai ke kal tak ruka nahi gaya apse?”

(You're so eager to leave, that you can't even wait till tomorrow?)

His tone was calm, but there was something heavy beneath it.
“Humne apko itna pareshan kar diya ke ab ek din bhi nahi rukna chahti?”

(We troubled you so much that you don't even want to wait for a single day?)

The words hit her harder than she expected. Her fingers curled in her lap as she looked at him, disbelief and hurt crossing her face.

“How can you even say that?” she whispered.

“I brought this today because I realized… I gave something to everyone except you. I didn’t want to wait any longer. That’s all.”

Shaurya’s jaw tightened. His voice came lower now, careful, but edged.
“Why do you want to go, then?

She held his gaze for a long moment before answering.
“Because I’m healed now. You’ve already done so much for me. I don’t want to be…”

Her voice faltered, the rest of the sentence dissolving between them.

Shaurya leaned forward, eyes darkening.

“Complete that sentence, Lotus,” he said quietly. “You don’t want to be… what?”

She blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his tone.

“Why are you acting like this?” she asked softly. “So defensive… so angry?”

He looked away, exhaling sharply, trying to calm the storm building inside. He didn’t have an answer only the sinking realization that he didn’t want her to go. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Because he had a feeling that if he let her go today, she wouldn’t come back just like the others. And he couldn’t let that happen. Not at any cost.

“If you’re angry just because I’m leaving,” she said, standing up,

“I don’t know what to say, Mr. Rathore. But I don’t like this side of you.”

She turned to leave but before she could take another step, a firm hand wrapped around her wrist.

She froze.

Shaurya rose from his chair, closing the distance between them until they stood just inches apart. His hold wasn’t rough  it was desperate. Unsteady.

Lowering his gaze, his voice came softer now, stripped of power.
“I’m sorry, Lotus.”

When he looked up, his eyes held an honesty that made her heart stutter.

“Sorry for being rude,” he said quietly. Then, his thumb brushed lightly across her knuckles, an unconscious, tender gesture.

“Sorry for questioning your decision.”

The faint tremor in her hand brought him back to reality. He blinked, realizing what he had done, and immediately let go. Stepping back, he said hoarsely,
“I’m sorry… for crossing the line.”

Saaisha didn’t move for a few seconds just stood there, her heart pounding in her chest.

Then, silently, she walked back and sat down on the chair. Shaurya followed, both of them trying to steady the air that now felt charged between them.

He cleared his throat softly. “Why don’t you stay?” he asked, his voice low, almost coaxing.

“Revenge is still pending, isn’t it? Two of them are still roaming free.”

He said it like it was strategy, but deep down he knew it wasn’t. It was the only excuse he could find, the only reason that made sense to his head when his heart was pleading otherwise.

A flicker of relief crossed his face after the words left his mouth. This might work, he thought. She’ll stay for justice.

But Saaisha didn’t react the way he hoped. She didn’t argue, didn’t agree, she simply picked up the folded paper from the table and said softly,
“Look at what I made for you.”

Her tone was calm, but her eyes held something else warmth, pride, maybe even affection.

Shaurya hesitated, then took the paper from her. As he flipped it open, his eyes softened instantly. The cold composure he always carried that mask of the Chief Minister, the leader, the man everyone feared cracked for a moment.

A genuine smile tugged at his lips. “Lotus…” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Saaisha leaned forward slightly, her voice filled with quiet conviction.

“It’s my manifestation,” she said, her eyes shining. “And I know it’s going to be true… soon.”

Shaurya’s gaze fell back to the paper to the painting she’d made.

In it, he stood tall on a grand stage, the national flag waving behind him, a roaring crowd below. And in bold letters on a banner above the crowd, it read:

“PM SHAURYA SINGH RATHORE.”

For a moment, he couldn’t look away. He traced the edges of the painting slowly, reverently, as if afraid his touch might ruin it. There was a small, unguarded smile on his face one that reached his eyes.

When he finally looked back at her, something gentle lingered in his expression, a quiet kind of awe.
“It’s beautiful,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion he didn’t fully understand.

Saaisha smiled faintly, her eyes glimmering. “It’s not just beautiful,” she said. “It’s true. You just have to believe it.”

Shaurya gently kept the painting aside, still tracing the edge with his thumb before looking back at her. His voice softened  deeper, more personal than usual.

“You have to play that game again with me, Lotus,” he said, a faint smirk curving his lips. “Remember what I told you? If you ever dare call yourself a burden again, I’ll keep playing this game until you start saying ‘B’ for blessing.”

A small smile tugged at Saaisha’s lips  the kind that reached her eyes.

“But this time,” she said playfully, “I’ll ask first.”

Shaurya leaned back, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Okay, Lotus. Go ahead.”

“L,” she began.

“Lotus,” he replied without hesitation.

“W.”

“White.”

“T.”

“Tea.”

“S.”

“Saaisha.”

She blinked at that, her lips parting slightly. Still, she asked, “B.”

Shaurya looked at her  really looked at her and said quietly, “Brown.” His voice dropped lower as his eyes lingered on hers. - The color of saaisha's eyes.

Saaisha’s brows shot up, her lips twitching.
“You’re cheating, Mr. Rathore.”

He looked almost boyishly confused. “How?”

“You’re supposed to say the first word that comes to your mind not what’s standing right in front of your eyes,” she said, crossing her arms.

Shaurya froze for a second. But that was the first thing that came to my mind, he thought, a little dazed. Every word, every image… it had all been about her.

He shook his head slightly, brushing the thought away. “Coincidence,” he muttered to himself.

When it was his turn, he asked, “B?”

Saaisha smiled softly and said, “Blue.”

Not burden.

Something in Shaurya’s chest eased  like a quiet relief he didn’t even realize he was holding.

After a moment, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
“You’re not going, right?” he asked, his tone gentle but desperate beneath the surface.

“If you want… we can go to the ice cream parlour every week, you know.”

Saaisha tilted her head, suppressing a smile. “Are you trying to bribe me, CM sahab?”

Shaurya chuckled, his dimples flashing. “Am I, Lotus? Is it working?”

She laughed quietly, shaking her head as she stood up. “We’ll see.”

Walking toward the door, she paused, her hand on the knob. Then she turned back with a teasing glint in her eyes.

“Be ready, CM sahab,” she said.
“You’ll have to take me to the ice cream parlour every day.”

A wide, genuine smile broke across Shaurya’s face rare and unguarded. “Okay, Lotus,” he replied, voice thick with warmth.

She turned to go, but then hesitated again. Pushing the door open slightly, she peeked back in and said softly  almost like a confession

“Your touch doesn’t scare me, Mr. Rathore.”

And before he could say a word, she was gone.

Shaurya stood frozen, her words echoing in his ears  sinking deep into a part of him he didn’t know needed healing too. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. He let out a long breath, half relief, half something unnamed.
.
.
.

Veer sat slouched on his chair, files open, papers scattered like a storm across the table. His sleeves were rolled up, specs perched perfectly, forehead furrowed in deep focus. His pen tapped against the page as his eyes darted from one file to another completely lost in work.

Then, suddenly, a soft arm slid around his waist.

The tension in his shoulders melted instantly. His pen fell from his fingers as a wide smile  the kind that showed his dimples replaced the frown. Without needing to turn, he already knew who it was.

“Butterfly,” he murmured, turning and pulling her into his arms. “I missed you.”

Siya hugged him back but scoffed, “Jhoote! I came here to meet you, and you didn’t even text me.”

She mimicked his deep voice mockingly, “I missed you, huh? Aye bade!”

Veer chuckled, breaking the hug with a grin. “Okay, okay, guilty.”

He made her sit on his chair and stood in front of her, dramatically holding his ears.

“1.” He started doing sit-ups. “I’m sorry, butterfly, for not texting you.”
“2.” He continued. “Sorry, butterfly, for not calling you.”
“3..”

Before he could finish, Siya jumped onto him with a laugh. Veer instinctively caught her, her legs wrapping around his waist, arms snaking around his neck.

“Enough,” she whispered, pressing a quick peck on his lips. “It’s okay, love.”

Veer’s smile widened, his dimples deepening. Siya immediately bit one of his cheeks, making him laugh.

“Your dimples are so hot,” she said with mock frustration. “I just wanna eat them.”

Veer chuckled, his eyes darkening just a shade. “I’ve got something else that’s even hotter,” he said, voice dropping low. “Wouldn’t mind your mouth around that either.”

“Veer!” Siya gasped, hitting his chest with a blush creeping over her cheeks. “How can you say something like that just so casually? Shameless!”

He smirked, brushing his thumb along her jaw. “I’m just saying about my lips, butterfly. What did you thought?. You’re the one making it sound dirty.”

“Shut up!” she hissed, slapping her hand over his mouth.

“Ek aur word bola na, toh I swear, I’ll make your nudes and sell them in the market!”

Veer’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Konsi girlfriend apne hi boyfriend ke nudes bechti hai, haan? Pagal ladki!”

(Which gf sells her own bf's nudes? Mad woman)

“Main!” Siya flipped her hair with attitude. “Don't underestimate the power of a comman woman!"

Veer laughed, pure and hearty, before pulling her close and kissing her lightly. “You’re anything but common butterfly,” he murmured against her lips. “And I love you.”

Siya’s giggle softened into a smile.
“Did you have your food?”

“Yes,” he said simply, sitting back on his chair with her still perched comfortably in his lap.

Her eyes fell on the scattered papers. “Did you find out something?”

Veer exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know… There’s too much in my head right now. Everything feels tangled  like I’m missing a piece.”

He paused, gaze distant for a second, before finally saying quietly,
“I have to ask Shaurya about someone.”

Siya looked at him curiously.
“About whom?”

Veer’s eyes darkened, the light teasing gone, replaced by something heavier, older.
He said the name slowly.

“Aisha.”

___________________________________________