Chapter 14 : The Night That Changed Everything Matured

Inside Suryagarh Palace, the echoes of laughter and music from the bachelor and bachelorette parties were finally fading into a sleepy, midnight silence.

Inside her suite, Maysha sat tense at the edge of her bed. She was still in the outfit she had worn downstairs—a deep, wine-colored fitted dress. Her delicate heels had already been kicked aside near the sofa, and her earrings lay abandoned beside the glowing bedside lamp. Her hair had loosened from its careful styling, soft strands falling framing her face. She hadn’t bothered to change. Sleep wasn’t coming anyway.

Then came a soft knock on her door.

Her heart stumbled. She didn’t need to ask who it was.

Crossing the room, she opened the door just enough for him to step inside.

Ayush.

He stood before her with his jacket in his hand, a stark contrast to his polished appearance from the bachelor party. Now, he wore a crisp black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the forearms and the collar loosened. His hair was slightly messy, as though he had run his hands through it a hundred times in frustration.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The quiet between them felt unfamiliar. And that was exactly what hurt.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.

“I know.” He didn’t leave.

Her fingers tightened on the doorknob. “If someone sees—”

“They won’t. Everyone’s knocked out.” His voice softened, losing its edge. “I just… needed to talk to you.”

She hesitated, then slowly closed the door until it clicked shut. The silence between them wasn’t empty; it was heavy with everything left unsaid over the past few weeks.

Ayush took a step forward. “What changed, Maysha?”

She looked away.

“We used to talk about everything,” he continued. “Now we can barely stand in the same room.”

Her throat tightened. “Things change.”

“Not like this.”

She stayed quiet.

He searched her face, his voice dropping to a gentle plea. “We didn’t even fight. We didn’t break. We just… drifted. Like strangers who accidentally remember they once knew each other.”

The words hit her like a physical blow. Her lashes lowered, hiding the sudden rush of emotion welling in her eyes.

“Tell me honestly,” he said softly. “Don’t you feel it too?”

She swallowed hard.

He stepped closer, moving carefully, giving her every opportunity to pull away if she wanted to. She didn’t.

“That thing,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “That pull that drags us back toward each other no matter how far we step away… don’t you feel it?”

Her voice trembled. “Ayush…”

“I’m not asking you to choose me,” he said quickly. “I just need to know I’m not imagining it. That I’m not the only one who still…” He stopped himself, his breath uneven. The word feels hung unspoken in the heavy air.

Maysha finally looked up, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“That’s the problem,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I do feel it.”

A profound mixture of relief and heartbreak crossed his face.

She continued, her tone fragile. “And that’s exactly why we have to stop.”

His jaw tightened slightly. “Because the wedding’s ending?”

“Yes.”

“And after that?”

She forced herself to say the words out loud. “After that… we won’t meet like this again. You’ll be busy with your life. I’ll be busy with mine. And whatever this is—” she gestured faintly between them, “—won’t have a place to exist.”

He nodded slowly. Not because he agreed, but because he understood.

“And you’re okay with that?” he asked.

She didn’t answer. The silence was answer enough.

A long moment stretched between them. Then, he spoke quietly. “I thought maybe… we’d at least get a proper ending.”

Her lips parted slightly. “What do you mean?”

Meri adhoori kahaani

Lo daastaan bann gayi

“Not a dramatic one,” he clarified, his gaze locked on hers. “Just… something real. Something that belongs to us. Not silence. Not avoidance.”

Her chest rose with a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Outside, a faint burst of laughter echoed from somewhere downstairs before fading back into the night.

He stepped closer, tossing his jacket onto the chair by the dressing table. With every inch he closed between them, her heart raced faster. Gently, reverently, he took her hands in his.

Ho Tune chhuaa aaj aise

Main kya se kya ban gayi

“This,” he whispered, his thumbs caressing her knuckles. “This is what I’m going to miss.”

Her breath caught. Instead of stepping back, she stepped closer. Deliberately.

Sehme huey sapne mere

haule-haule angdaiyaan le rahe

Their foreheads came to rest against one another. For a moment, they simply breathed the same air. No promises. No future. Just now. When he finally wrapped his arms around her, it wasn’t possessive; it was pure instinct. She held him back just as fiercely, her fingers gripping the fabric at the back of his shirt as if trying to memorize the solid feel of him.

Thehre huey lamhe mere

nayi-nayi gehraiyaan le rahe

The remaining distance between them vanished. Maysha leaned in, making the first move, and their lips touched.

Their breaths mingled. The kiss was soft at first—hesitant, almost questioning. Then, the dam broke. The emotions they had been suppressing for weeks surfaced all at once. The kiss deepened, unhurried but beautifully intense, as though they were trying to pour every unspoken word into the touch.

Zindagi ne pehni hai muskaan

Karne lagi hai

His hand slid into her hair, steadying her, while her fingers curled tighter into his shirt. Moving on instinct, she slowly began to unbutton his shirt, pressing soft, fluttering kisses to his bare chest, trailing up the column of his neck and across his jaw.

itna karam kyun na jaane

With a gentle touch, Ayush turned her around so her back was to him. He swept her hair over one shoulder, his reflection meeting hers in the vanity mirror. Her breath hitched as he slowly unzipped her dress, the quiet rasp of the zipper sending a shiver down her spine. He pressed a lingering kiss to her bare shoulder, then to the sensitive curve of her neck, watching her eyes darken in the mirror.

Karvat lene lage hai

armaan phir bhi

He turned her back to face him, capturing her lips once more as the dress slipped away. Discarding their remaining garments, Ayush gently lifted her and carried her to the bed.

Hai aankh num kyun naa jaane

He hovered over her, his weight supported on his forearms, their foreheads touching with barely a breath between their lips.

His voice was a low, rasping whisper. “Maysha… do you want this?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “But Ayush, please… can we go slow? It’s my first time. Di told me it can hurt.”

A tender, reassuring smile touched his lips. “It’s my first time too.”

A soft, breathless chuckle escaped them both. Though they had shared deeply intimate conversations and late-night calls in the past, neither of them had ever crossed this physical threshold—a boundary Maysha had maintained in all her relationships, even with Maan.

O Saiiiiiyyan…

Ayush pulled the heavy sheets over them, shutting out the rest of the world, and made love to her with a slow, aching tenderness.

Much later, when the room had settled back into a peaceful quiet and the bedside lamp cast a warm, golden glow over the bed, they lay tangled together. Neither spoke. They both understood the tragic truth they didn't want to voice: some love stories don’t end because the feelings fade. They end because life moves faster than hearts are ready for.

Ayush rested his forehead against hers one last time, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

“Take care of yourself,” he murmured.

She nodded faintly, her fingers loosely clutching the bedsheet against her chest.

He hesitated. Then, softly, almost reluctantly, he added, “And… take a contraceptive pill, okay? I didn’t use…” His voice trailed off, his tone careful and protective rather than awkward. “Just to be safe.”

Her lashes fluttered, a faint, beautiful flush rising to her cheeks—not from embarrassment, but from the quiet intimacy of what they had just shared.

“I will,” she whispered.

He studied her face for a long second, his eyes tracing her features as if trying to burn the image of her into his memory forever.

Moving discreetly beneath the sheets, he slipped into his boxers before standing up to gather the rest of his clothes. Once dressed, he picked up his jacket from the vanity chair. Returning to the bed, he gently draped it over her shoulders.

Maysha pulled her arms through the sleeves, letting the oversized jacket engulf her beneath the covers.

“This will keep you warm. Aside from the blanket, of course,” he said, with a playful wink.

His hand lingered on the bedsheet covering her, offering a gentle, final pat. He took one last step back, taking her in completely, before turning toward the door.

The lock clicked shut softly behind him, echoing in the quiet room.

*

While upstairs the bachelor and bachelorette parties were in full swing on the terrace, Maira entered her parents' room. Diya was busy trying to get hers and Rahul's clothes pressed for tomorrow. The moment Rahul heard their room bell, he opened the door and to their surprise it was Maira.

The minute, Diya noticed Maira, she immediately switched the garment steamer off and walked a few steps towards her.

"Maira, what brings you here? Why are you looking so dull, beta?" Diya asked with concern, guiding her to the bed and making her sit.

Maira’s composure broke instantly. "Mama and Papa, I’m sorry for not telling you this earlier," she sobbed. "I even asked Mom and Dad to keep this from you both, thinking that maybe things would get better... but my marriage has failed, and I can't do anything about it."

Diya reached out to console her daughter. "Maira, I'm not upset that you didn't tell me, nor will I be upset with Mayank and Shaira for keeping this from me. But I’m getting worried now. Please tell me what is happening? Tell me everything..."

Maira then told her parents everything about their impending divorce and her decision to separate because she wanted to be childless while Ishaan wanted a baby. Diya and Rahul were surprised by her decision and asked, "Maira, tell me one thing: do you really want a divorce with Ishaan? Do you love Ishaan?"

"Yes, Mama, I love and respect him," Maira replied through her tears. "My love for him hasn't diminished; in fact, it's grown even more. But my choices... it's killing me from within."

"Then if it’s so, Maira," Diya suggested gently, "I would suggest you think about saving this marriage rather than abandoning such a good husband. Bacha, try to compromise for Ishaan's sake."

Rahul stepped in, his voice heavy with regret. "Maira, I don't know what's got into your brain to remain childless. See your mom, Shaira—she chose to remain childless for a particular time, and when she did want to become a mother, I stripped her away from that happiness by killing your unborn siblings. It haunts me yet that I was cruel to your mom, and for that, God gave me punishment by making me infertile. It’s always pained me that I couldn't give your Diya mama a child of her own. Please, Maira, don't make this mistake of remaining childless when you can still procreate."

Maan, who was passing by, froze as he overheard their conversation.

"But Mama and Papa," Maira asked, "what about my life choices?"

"Maira, in order to save your marriage, this is the only possible option—a chance of compromise," Diya said firmly. "If you love Ishaan and if this makes him happy and his family happy, then so be it. Very rarely do you find such a gem of a husband, Maira."

Rahul added, "Maira, your Diya mama has this one wish from you: to see you having a family, to see you being pregnant. After her miscarriage from her first marriage, she always craved to be a mother again by conceiving, but I failed her. But you have given her hope. Please give this marriage a chance and think about this, Maira. Save your marriage with Ishaan."

Inside, Maira felt the crushing weight of their history. If I can give Mom the hope she lost... I have to do this, she thought. I’ll compromise my choices just to make them happy. I'll save this marriage with a baby.

Outside, Maan’s anger boiled over. “Diya aunty can give her reasoning to support her cheater husband, but I am not accepting this,” he thought, his heart hardening. “Ishaan and Maira have cracks in their marriage, yet they are trying to save it with a baby? Seriously? And what about my relationship with Maira, where our relationship was left unfinished with misunderstandings? Now I will show Maira... if I had to sleep with someone and to acknowledge it, I would do so with your sister. This is what you get for not trusting me, Maira, and not choosing me.”

Consumed by resentment, Maan turned and walked straight toward Maysha’s room.

Inside the room, a profound silence followed the parents' plea. Maira looked at her adoptive parents, seeing the years of pain and hope in their eyes. She realized that over the last six months of their divorce period, she had been in constant pain, and no choice of hers was worth the loss of Ishaan or the disappointment of those she loved.

A small, bittersweet smile finally touched her lips. She reached out and squeezed their hands. "You're right," she whispered, her voice regaining its strength. "I love him too much to let this go. I will do whatever it takes to save my marriage. If it means compromising my choices for his sake , and both the family's, then so be it."

Diya and Rahul pulled her into a relieved embrace, unaware of the storm Maan was about to unleash just few rooms away.

Slipping quietly out of her parents’ suite, she made her way straight to the hotel’s reception desk. With a few whispered requests, a charming smile, and the right strings pulled, everything was set into motion. She pulled out her phone and dialed Ishaan’s number, asking him to meet her in the lobby.

When the elevator doors opened and Ishaan stepped out, he looked around in mild confusion. "Maira? Why did you call me down here? The parties are barely over."

"Because," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "I have a surprise for you."

Before he could ask anything else, she flagged down a passing hotel attendant, politely requesting a clean linen handkerchief. Stepping close to Ishaan, she reached up and wrapped the fabric over his eyes, tying it securely at the back of his head.

"Maira, what are you doing?" he asked, a laugh caught in his throat.

She smoothed the front of his shirt, lingering for a second. "Do you trust me, Ishaan?"

"You know I do," he replied, a fond smile touching his lips. "But tell me, what is this all about?"

"You'll see soon enough," she teased softly. "Patience."

Taking him gently by the arm, Maira guided a blindfolded Ishaan out through the grand lobby doors and into the cool desert night. Within moments, a sleek hotel car pulled up to the porch.

"Alright, step down and get in," she instructed, helping him into the back seat. "Just give me a second, I’ll join you from the other side."

She hurried around the car and slid in beside him. It was a remarkably short ride—barely two minutes—but the anticipation radiating from Ishaan filled the small space. The car tires soon crunched over a gravel path, coming to a gentle halt near the private mini-lake nestled within the sprawling grounds of the Suryagarh Palace.

"We're here," Maira announced.

She stepped out first, carefully guiding Ishaan out of the vehicle. "Watch your step," she murmured, holding onto his hand as he kept asking where on earth they were.

"Just a few more steps," she promised.

She led him down to the water’s edge. The transformation the hotel staff had managed in such a short time was nothing short of magical. A beautifully set dining table was laid on top of a red mat with wooden cushion chairs and pillows , glowing under the warm light of candles and lanterns. Just beyond it, the serene, mirror-like lake reflected the night sky, with a small wooden boat moored quietly by the pier. From the nearby domed pavilion, the haunting, soulful notes of a stringed instrument filled the air, played by a musician dressed in vibrant, traditional Rajasthani attire. A chef and a waiter stood at a respectful distance, waiting to serve them.

Stopping Ishaan right at the edge of the setup, Maira reached behind his head and untied the knot.

The handkerchief fell away. Ishaan blinked against the lantern light, taking in the breathtaking scene before him. The water, the music, the solitude—it was perfect.

He turned to look at her, sheer wonder in his eyes. "Maira… you managed to get all these arrangements done? Now?"

"Yes," she beamed, pride evident in her voice. "And within just a few moments, too. I just… I wanted to pull you away from the chaos for a bit. I wanted to make our night memorable."

Ishaan’s expression softened into something incredibly tender. He reached out, gently cupping her cheek. "This is so thoughtful. And incredibly sweet, Maira. Thank you."

A warm flush touched her cheeks. Without another word, she slipped her hand into his, lacing their fingers together, and gently led him toward the candlelit table waiting for them in the dark.

The lanterns flickered softly, casting warm, dancing shadows as the waiter served the final dish and slipped away. For a long while, neither of them spoke. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable—just heavy, burdened with everything they both knew was coming.

Six months of their test of love, finally coming to an end.

Ishaan absentmindedly swirled the wine in his glass, watching the deep red liquid catch the light. “I still can’t believe you managed to set this up tonight,” he said quietly.

Maira offered a faint, rehearsed smile. “I wanted one night that didn’t feel like a countdown.”

His eyes lifted to hers, carrying a sad tenderness. “A countdown to what?” he asked gently.

“You know what.”

The word divorce didn’t need to be spoken; it already sat at the table with them. Across the water, the distant, melancholic notes of a musician’s violin floated through the night air.

Maira inhaled slowly, bracing herself. “Ishaan… I’ve been thinking.”

He waited.

“A lot.”

“That sounds dangerous,” he joked softly, though his eyes remained guarded.

She didn’t laugh. She couldn’t afford to lose her nerve. “I don’t want our marriage to end.”

His expression shifted, the guardedness fracturing into surprise. “Maira…”

“I mean it,” she continued quickly, forcing a steady rhythm into her voice. “The last few months… the fights… the space… the moments that we shared—whether we sometimes faked it for the world or sometimes we actually, genuinely enjoyed every moment we had remaining—all of it made me realize something. I think we should try again.”

Ishaan studied her carefully, searching her face for the catch. “Try again how?”

She held his gaze, willing her eyes not to betray her. “I think...I think, we should have a baby.”

The words landed like a heavy stone in still water, sending ripples through the quiet night. Ishaan leaned back slowly, utterly stunned. “Maira…”

“Yes?”

“Is this what you want?”

She nodded immediately, her mask flawless. “Yes.”

But inside, her chest tightened so fiercely she could barely breathe. This is what everyone wants: her in-laws, Ishaan, Shaira Mom, Mayank Dad, Diya Mama, Rahul Papa. A quiet voice echoed in her mind. She thought of Ishaan’s quiet, persistent longing over the years—a man who had loved her so fiercely, whose only dream was a family, but only when she was ready. For her, he had even told his parents to give them the time and space to grow as a couple and to think about having babies whenever she was comfortable. She loved them all too much to be the reason for their heartbreak. If giving up her own choices, her own freedom, was the price of fixing everything… she would pay it.

Ishaan reached across the table, his warm hand gently covering hers. “You don’t have to do this just to save our marriage.”

“I’m not,” she lied smoothly.

“Maira,” he said softly, his thumb brushing her knuckles. “I know I should have repeatedly asked during the initial stage of our marriage whether we were on the same page or not. I shouldn't have relied on my own consciousness that you might also follow the footsteps of Shaira Mom to have a child after achieving her career goals. I should have known better—that everyone is entitled to have their own life choices, and a child won't always do what their parents have done. So, I need to know if this isn’t fear talking. I don’t want a child if the price is you losing yourself.”

Her smile held steady, a beautiful, tragic facade. “You won’t lose me.”

Because I am already letting myself go, she thought in her mind.

"Ishaan, please trust me. I do want to have our baby, Ishaan. I want to be a mother and have a tiny human growing inside of me—feeling his or her small kicks, the mood swings, weird food cravings, and everything in between—and experience the beauty of parenthood. Because I know you will surely be a wonderful father to our child, and I am 101% sure that you will protect our child from all the fears and worries that I have held onto and that made me hesitate to have our baby. I love you, Ishaan." Maira said this with utmost sincerity; when she confessed her love for him, her eyes brimmed, wanting nothing more than him, even if it meant having a baby

"I Love you too Maira" , Ishaan's eyes were in tears. He brought his forehead to rest on hers while cupping her neck."Maira, you have made me the happiest person in the whole world" and then he kisses her on lips.

They parted, and the dinner continued quietly after that. They talked about lighter things—old memories and discussing how he planned with the younger lot to save Rudra's mojadis from being stolen during the wedding ceremony tomorrow. But as Ishaan smiled, looking lighter and happier than he had in months, Maira sat beneath the warmth of the lanterns, carrying a heavy, silent truth she would take to her grave.

As the final plates were cleared, a profound, peaceful quiet settled over the table. Ishaan turned to the waiting staff, his voice a low, steady rumble in the night air.

“Thank you for everything tonight. The food and the setup laid for us—it was truly amazing.”

"Pleasure is all ours sir", the staff said.

The manager stepped forward politely, offering a respectful nod as he handed Ishaan a small, sleek walkie device. “Sir, the boathouse is fully prepared. If you require anything at all during the night, simply contact us through this.”

Ishaan took the device, slipping it into his pocket. “Thank you.”

"And one more thing, sir." The manager then handed Ishaan a sky lantern. "Sir, this is again on behalf of Madam. You both can light it by the lake."

Ishaan looked at his wife, noticing all the gestures, and then looked back to the manager. "Thanks for providing the arrangement. We will light it by the lake so that it doesn’t create any problems."

With silent efficiency, the staff and the manager withdrew. As their footsteps faded down the path, the lake was left wrapped in an exquisite, isolated silence. The world shrank down to just the two of them, illuminated only by the warm, flickering glow of the lanterns and the pale brilliance of the moon above.

Ishaan stood. He looked down at Maira, his eyes dark and unreadable, yet impossibly soft. He extended his hand toward her.

“Come.”

She placed her hand in his, a tremor of anticipation running up her arm at the familiar warmth of his skin. Together, they walked down the narrow wooden pier toward the small, tethered boathouse. The night air was crisp, carrying the fresh scent of pine and deep water. Around them, the lake was a canvas of liquid silver, shimmering and dancing under the night sky.

Tu agar meri, yeh hawayen teri

Tu agar meri, saari raahein teri

When they reached the edge of the dock, they together lighted the sky lantern and made a wish. They let the lantern fly and stood watching it float in the sky for some moments.

Then, as Maira stepped toward the boat —before her foot could touch the deck, Ishaan’s arm caught her waist. In one smooth, effortless motion, he swept her off her feet and lifted her high into his arms.

“Ishaan!” Maira gasped, a soft, breathless laugh escaping her lips as she instinctively threw her arms around his broad shoulders to steady herself.

He looked up at her, a devastatingly tender smile playing on his lips. “You started the surprises tonight,” he murmured, his gaze dropping momentarily to her mouth. “It’s my turn.”

Tu agar meri, main hoon tera

Tu agar meri, yeh ujaale tere

He carried her across the threshold into the softly lit cabin and kicked the heavy wooden door shut behind them. The quiet click of the latch was absolute. The outside world—the ticking clock of their separation, the lawyers, the lingering doubts—instantly disappeared.

Tu agar meri, dil hawale tere

Tu agar meri, main hoon tera

Inside, the cabin was a cocoon of warmth, bathed in the amber glow of hidden lights. A plush, wide bed dominated the space, layered with thick blankets and crisp white linens.

Ishaan let her legs slide slowly down his body until her feet touched the floor, but he didn’t step back. For a long, fragile moment, they simply stood inches apart, looking at each other. They were two people standing at the absolute edge of a precipice—a marriage that had been moments away from ending, now trembling on the brink of a profound rebirth.

Maira stepped even closer, resting her palms against the solid warmth of his chest. She could feel his heart hammering beneath her hands.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Ishaan reached up, gently cupping her jaw. His thumb stroked her cheekbone, reverence in his touch. “Maira,” he breathed, his voice breaking slightly. “I would have come anywhere you asked.”

The remaining distance between them vanished. When his lips finally met hers, it wasn't a gentle brush, but a collision. Six months of pain and longing to be united, shattered in an instant. The kiss was deep, desperate, and hungry—a torrential release of everything they hadn’t known how to say.

Maira’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate to anchor herself to him. Ishaan’s arms wrapped around her waist, crushing her against him as if he was terrified she might still slip through his fingers.

Betaab-sa mohabbat ka tu inqalaab hai

As their mouths parted just inches and their breaths mingled, he whispered the question that always stole him from the moments he wanted to cherish.

"Maira, do you seriously want us to make a baby?"

"Yes Ishaan, and this time I don't want you to hold back"

Mera jahaan teri baahon mein khwaab, khwaab hai

The heavy fabric of his jacket was discarded, falling to the floor. Maira’s dress followed, a whisper of silk slipping into the shadows. Every touch was an exploration, a frantic relearning of the body they knew better than their own. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, his hands mapping the curves of her waist with a heated, possessive devotion that made her gasp his name.

Gehra hua, gehra hua

Rang aashiqui gehra hua

He carried her the short distance to the bed, following her down into the soft linens. Outside, the lake water lapped softly against the wooden hull, causing the boathouse to sway in a gentle, rhythmic lullaby. Inside, the rhythm belonged only to them.

Gehra hua, gehra hua

Dariya-dua gehra hua

Tera hua

When they came together, Maira arched into him, a soft cry tearing from her throat. Ishaan held her tightly, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet space. They made love with a slow,aching intensity, every slide of skin, every whispers of each other's name and moans.

Tu agar meri, yeh hawayen teri

Tu agar meri, saari raahein teri

Tu agar meri, main hoon tera

As the gentle rocking of the boat carried them through the night, they held onto each other in the dark, bodies tangled and exhausted. The vast, cold distance that had threatened to ruin them was gone, replaced by the quiet, beating promise of a second chance

*

Maysha laid in the bed for some time, cocooned in his jacket, breathing in the faint, lingering scent of him trapped beneath the sheets. It was a goodbye she desperately didn't want to let go of.

Then realization struck her that she needed to take the contraceptive pill. And to do that, she had to go up to Maira’s room.

Reluctantly, Maysha pushed the covers aside and got out of bed. The oversized jacket Ayush had left her hung warmly over her petite frame. She gathered her discarded party clothes from the floor, folding them neatly atop her suitcase, before swapping the heavy jacket for a soft nightgown and a silk robe.

Stepping out into the hushed, dimly lit corridors of the Palace Hotel, Maysha made her way to the adjacent room. She found Maira’s door locked, but a quick search of her pockets reminded her of the spare key card her sister had given her for safekeeping. Swiping the card, she slipped quietly inside.

The suite was pristine and completely untouched. The bed was perfectly made, the lamps were dimmed to a warm, low glow, and the balcony doors were left slightly ajar, allowing the cool, crisp desert air to drift into the room.

She moved straight to the nightstand where Maira always kept her travel medical kit. Spotting the familiar pouch, a faint wave of relief flickered across her face. She unzipped it and quickly located the blister pack of contraceptive pills. With a soft pop, she carefully pushed one tiny tablet free, catching it in her palm.

Now, she just needed water.

A crystal jug sat on the small table beside the bed. Walking over, she picked up a glass and poured the water slowly, the gentle trickling sound echoing faintly in the silent room. She raised the pill toward her lips.

And then—voices.

Muffled at first, but drawing steadily closer. It was the housekeeping staff making their late night rounds in the corridor.

Maysha froze.

She glanced back and realized the suite door was still half-open. Her heart leaped into her throat. If someone saw her sneaking around Maira’s empty room at this hour, the questions would be impossible to answer. Panic flared hot in her chest.

Instinctively lowering the water glass, she darted toward the door to shut it, the pill still pinched between her trembling fingers.

But in her haste, her grip faltered.

The tiny tablet slipped from her hand, bouncing silently onto the thick, plush carpet—completely unnoticed by her.

Reaching the door, she quickly pushed it shut and locked it with her spare card. Heart pounding against her ribs,she rushed towards the secluded mini terrace until the voices in the hallway finally faded away.

Maysha made her way to the domed pavilion perched above the miniature pool—the exact spot she had retreated to on the night of the Mehendi. Letting the cool breeze wash over her, she took a deep, steadying breath.

I'm glad I took that pill, she thought, relieved she had managed to slip away unnoticed. She was completely unaware, however, that the pill still sat untouched in Maira's room. Shivering in the night air, she rubbed her palms against the silk of her sleeves, chasing a fleeting sense of warmth.

The faint crunch of approaching footsteps broke the silence. Maysha turned, her heart executing a sudden, violent skip.

It was Maan.

“Maan?” she breathed, startled. “You scared me.”

He didn’t answer immediately. His dark gaze swept over her face, lingering on her slightly smudged kohl and the softness that hadn’t yet faded from her goodbye with Ayush.

“How did you know I’d be here?” she asked, her voice quiet over the water.

“I went to your room first,” he replied, his tone unreadable. “But I saw you leaving Maira’s room and heading this way… so I followed.”

She exhaled lightly. “Just like the Mehendi night,” she said, a faint smile touching her lips. “Somehow, we always end up in this secluded place.”

A muscle feathered in his jaw. Something inside him seemed to tighten.

“You weren’t downstairs,” he noted, his voice dropping low.

“I was tired,” she replied gently. “So I came up.”

A heavy pause stretched between them. Then, he stepped closer. Not hurried. Not hesitant. Deliberate.

Maysha felt her pulse pick up its tempo. There was always a fierce intensity to his presence—as if he carried storms tucked neatly behind his ribs.

“You didn’t look tired earlier,” he pointed out.

She gave a small, defensive shrug. “Maybe it hit me all at once. Besides, didn't everyone head to bed after the parties wrapped up?”

“Most did,” he murmured. “But some chose to have their own after-parties. Private matters.”

Maysha’s brow furrowed. “Oh. I guess you didn't enjoy the after-party, then.”

His jaw shifted again, as though he were swallowing words he couldn't afford to speak. He had come out here with frustration coiled tight inside his chest—an anger he couldn’t direct where it truly belonged. The ghost of Maira’s voice from downstairs still echoed in his mind. Her calm, collected promises about starting a family. Her casual choice of a future that had absolutely no space for him in it.

And now, here he was. Standing in front of her sister. Trying to outrun an anger he refused to name.

Maysha tilted her head, studying him. “Is everything okay?”

He let out a quiet breath that masqueraded as a humorless laugh. “Depends on your definition of okay.”

“What happened?” she asked softly.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he really looked at her. He took in the way she was still emotionally undone, the raw vulnerability she hadn’t bothered to hide, the way she never raised her walls when he was around.

A reckless, dangerous spark flickered in his eyes.

“Maysha,” he said quietly, closing the distance between them. “Do you ever feel like you care too much for people who don’t choose you back?”

Her brows knit together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” his voice dropped to a rough whisper, “you give… and you give… and you still end up standing alone.”

Her chest tightened. Because that feeling? She knew it. Intimately.

She tried to deflect it with a fragile smile. “That sounds like a very specific experience.”

“It is.”

Silence settled over the water again.

She studied his shadowed face. “You’re upset.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not,” he repeated, though his voice had lost its edge.

She didn’t argue. Instead, she looked up at him with devastating gentleness. “Then let me ease your pain.”

That single sentence did something to him. It slipped effortlessly past his defenses. For a fraction of a second, the storm in his eyes shifted—not disappearing, just… redirecting.

“You’re the only one who sees straight through me,” he murmured.

Her breath caught. The words landed far deeper than he probably intended. Stepping a little closer, she let her concern bleed into her voice. “Let me heal you.”

Iss tarah se khudse aa mujhko jod tu

Thoda bhi mujhme na mujhko chhod tu

That was all it took. It wasn’t seduction. It wasn’t a calculated intention. It was permission.

Maan reached out. His fingers brushed her wrist—slow, testing, offering her every opportunity to pull away.

She didn’t.

Na yaad teri tujhko

Na yaad mujhe hoon main

Her heart was still fragile from her goodbye. His was restless and bleeding from rejection. And sometimes, in the dark, two unfinished emotions mistake each other for healing.

His hand slid slowly, firmly, down into hers.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he whispered.

“Like what?” she breathed back.

“Like I matter.”

Her lips parted slightly. “You do.”

Aa mujhko pehan le tu

Aa tujhko odh loon main

That answer snapped the final thread of restraint he’d been holding onto.

Maan pulled Maysha into a deep embrace. When they finally parted, they lingered for only a breathless second before leaning in again, capturing each other’s lips in a kiss that quickly grew heated. His hands moved deftly to slip her robe from her shoulders, revealing the delicate nightgown beneath. Lifting her effortlessly, he let her wrap her legs around his waist as they continued to kiss, lost in each other.

Katra katra main girun

Jism pe tere theharun

He carried her into the sanctuary of the dome pavilion, gently laying her down upon the plush sofa. Shedding his own clothes, he tenderly helped her out of her under garment. His lips trailed a path of fire and reverence—pressing soft kisses to her stomach, up across her chest, lingering on the sensitive crook of her neck and shoulder, before returning to claim her lips once more.

Katra katra main girun

Tujh mein hi kahin reh lun

Pulling the heavy sofa blanket over them to ward off the night chill, Maan made love to Maysha. Surrounded by the soft glow of scattered lamps and the fragrant bloom of night flowers, the starry sky above stood as the silent witness to their union.

By dawn, the first pale rays of morning light filtered into the dome, gently waking Maan. Maysha rested peacefully against his chest, both of them still tangled in each other's embrace beneath the warm blanket. Not wanting to disturb her sleep, Maan carefully slipped away. He quietly pulled on his boxers and swiftly dressed in his clothes.

Returning to the sofa, he securely wrapped Maysha’s sleeping form in the thick blanket. He retrieved her room key and Maira's from her discarded robe, slipping it into a separate pocket from his own so he wouldn't mix them up. Gathering her clothes, he draped them carefully over his arm so he could carry her without anything falling. After a cautious glance down the quiet, empty corridor to ensure no one would see them, he carried her effortlessly back to her room.

He unlocked her door and placed the key card in the wall slot. Approaching the bed, he laid her down with the utmost gentleness. He placed her folded robe and nightgown neatly on the edge of the mattress, then pulled the room's bedsheets over her, leaving her still warmly cocooned in the blanket from the pavilion. He set Maira's key card on the nightstand.

Even though they had kept each other warm all night, Maan knew the outdoor air had been crisp; he didn't want to risk her catching a cold. He quietly switched on the room's space heater to ensure she stayed comfortable. After casting a final, tender look at her peaceful face, he slipped out the door and headed back to his own room.