Epilogue

Epilogue

Twelve months later...

“Maan! Stop being such a perfectionist and hand me the knife!” Geet’s voice echoed through the kitchen as she tried...emphasis on tried...to chop vegetables for their anniversary dinner

Maan, looking effortlessly smug in his casual black t-shirt and track pants, leaned against the counter with a smirk. “Do you even know how to use this?” He waved the knife dramatically.

Geet huffed, planting her hands on her hips. “Excuse me, ACP! I’ve been cooking for months now. I know how to chop!!"

“Oh, really? Because last time you tried, I ended up eating ‘potato soup’ that was 90% water and 10% burned ambition. Let’s not even talk about the burnt roti..."

Geet’s mouth fell open. “Maan Singh Khurana!” she yelled, swatting his arm. “You’re impossible”

“And yet, here I am. Stuck with you forever,” he teased, handing her the knife with a wink

“Forever, indeed. You’re lucky you look good, or I would’ve divorced you by now”

Maan raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to her. “Divorced me? That’s funny, because as far as I remember, you practically tackled me to the mandap”

“I did not!”

“Oh, you did. You were so desperate to make me your husband, you didn’t even wait for the priest to finish chanting. I’m still recovering from the shock”

Geet gasped, scandalized. “Say one more word, and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” she warned, narrowing her eyes

Maan chuckled, leaning down so their noses almost touched. “Admit it. You’re crazy about me”

“Crazy? Yes. About you? Debatable” But the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her

Before she could pull back, Maan’s arm wrapped around her waist, tugging her closer. “Careful, Mrs. Khurana. You’re playing with fire”

“And you’re playing with my patience” she shot back, though her cheeks were turning crimson

“Patience? Is that what you called it when you wrote ‘Geet loves Maan’ all over your case files last year?”

Geet’s jaw dropped. “I did not! Who told you that?”

“Your assistant, of course. She thought it was adorable”

“That traitor!”

Maan laughed, pulling her back into his arms. “Relax, sweetheart. I loved it. Although” his voice dropped to a teasing murmur, “if you were that obsessed with me, you could’ve just skipped the formalities”

Geet frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, we could’ve skipped the wedding altogether and just gone straight to the honeymoon” he said with a wicked grin.

It took her a moment to process, and when she did, her face turned beet red. “Maan!”

“What?” he asked innocently, leaning closer. “Just saying. You did seem very... enthusiastic that night. Remember how you...”

“ACP MAAN SINGH KHURANA!” she yelled, clamping a hand over his mouth. “If you say one more word, I swear...”

His muffled laughter was contagious, and she couldn’t help but giggle as she pushed him away.

~~

Later that evening, they sat on the couch, the failed dinner replaced with takeout. Maan had his arm around Geet, and she was pretending to be engrossed in a legal drama on TV.

“You know, this show is so unrealistic” she said.

“Says the woman who once argued with a traffic cop for an hour about why she didn’t need a helmet” Maan quipped.

“That’s different! I had solid reasoning”

“Sure you did” Maan replied, smirking.

Geet turned to face him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “By the way, do you know what’s on my to-do list for tonight?”

He leaned in, intrigued. “What?”

“Winning another argument with my husband.”

Maan laughed, pulling her closer. “Oh, you can try. But I warn you, Mrs. Khurana. I play dirty”

Geet smirked, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Good. So do I.”

Maan’s laughter turned into a soft chuckle as he shook his head. “You really are something else”

“And you love me for it” she replied confidently.

“Always” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

As the night unfolded, their banter continued, laced with love, teasing, and the kind of intimacy that only they could share - a perfect mix of chaos and devotion that made their world uniquely theirs.