She giggled, then caught his hand and tugged him gently. “Come on,” she said. “We have guests waiting. And besides, you still haven’t taken Pari in your arms.”
He froze mid-step, genuinely startled. “Me?”
Mishti stopped them at the kitchen door and turned to him, teasing. “Practice, Mr Karan Wadhwa,” she said. “By the time we become parents, we need to be hands-on.”
He thought about it for a moment, then grinned. The kind of grin she had never seen on his face before. They hadn’t planned for children yet, but the way life was unfolding between them now, it felt like it would happen sooner than they imagined. A few months, maybe a year at most.
Their fingers entwined naturally, like they had always belonged there. Karan raised their handhold, pressed a kiss on her knuckles and walked back together into the living room, ready to be the best hosts for the Goel family waiting outside.
Karan had entered her life carrying vengeance, and Mishti had stepped into his world carrying hope she herself did not fully believe in then. Revenge had taken what it needed, but love had stayed behind to rebuild what was left. The man who had once been her punishment was now her partner. Sometimes, even the most broken beginnings could still lead to something whole.
Just like their marriage…It was no longer a hellish revenge. But a hard-won love.
Epilogue
Wadhwa Mansion – Seven Years Later
The bedroom door creaked open as Karan and Mishti’s five-year-old son,Arin, pushed it with both hands. His small fingers tightly wrapped around those of his four-year-old cousin,Nysa, Abhimanyu and Komal’s daughter, who trailed beside him. They walked hand in hand, looking around the room.
“No one is here,” Arin whispered, eyes scanning his parents’ bedroom.
Nysa nodded seriously, as if this was an important discovery. That’s when he heard the faint sound of running water. Arin’s face lit up. He tugged Nysa along and walked straight to the bathroom door, knocking once with confidence.
“Dad?”
Inside, behind the closed door, Karan and Mishti froze.
Steam filled the glass shower cubicle, warm water cascading over skin that knew every inch of the other by heart. Karan had her pressed gently against him, his forehead resting against hers, his hands wrapped around her waist. Seven years had not dulled the way he looked at her. If anything, it had deepened it.
The knock from their son cut through their intimate moment.
Mishti froze first, as reality rushed back. Her eyes widened as she whispered his name in warning, her palms pressing against his chest to push him away.
But Karan didn’t panic. He only stilled her with a soft hush, his mouth brushing her temple as he looked at the door, which was firmly locked.
The knock came again.
“Dad?” Arin called, louder this time.
Karan reached out and turned the shower off before he answered, “Yes, Arin.”
Outside, Arin beamed at Nysa, clearly pleased he’d been heard.
“Where is Mumma?”
Karan glanced down at Mishti, who was still catching her breath, cheeks warm, face flustered. He smiled at her, gesturing for her to calm down.
“Mumma must be in the temple room,” he replied for his son to hear.
Arin frowned. “No, she’s not there. I checked.” Then, as if remembering something very important, he added, “I want ladoo.”
Mishti shot Karan a look and nudged him, trying to step away, clearly determined to exit before more questions followed.
But luckily for them, before either of them could move, another voice floated in the room.
“Arin? Nysa?” Komal called, walking into the room and frowned lightly. “What are you two doing here? I’ve been looking for you.”
Relief washed over Mishti inside, instantly. “Saved.”
