“I am smiling,” Arin argued. “This is my serious smile.”
The adults broke into laughter again.
“Perfect,” the photographer said, clicking the photos.
Then it was time for the family photograph, a tradition they never skipped.
Mishti and Karan took their place at the centre of the 12-seater couch, with Arin comfortably settled on Karan’s lap. Rajat and Avni sat to their left with Anaya, while Daksh and Divya sat to their right with Pari. Abhimanyu and Komal sat slightly below to fit into the frame, with Nysa perched happily on Komal’s lap.
“Cheese,” the professional photographer called out.
Smiles spread instantly. Laughter echoed. The kids giggled and squirmed. Without thinking, Karan pulled Mishti a little closer. Their heads turned toward each other just as the camera clicked.
For a brief moment, everything else faded.
The laughter around them. Even the kids’ voices. All Karan saw was Mishti. All Mishti saw was him and this family they had built together.
Two broken souls who had once craved nothing more than a sense of belonging were now standing at the centre of a family that trusted them, loved them, and leaned on them.
This was their legacy now.
A marriage that had begun in revenge had quietly, stubbornly, grown into something far greater. A life. A home. A family rooted in love.
Dilip Goel was gone.
He had died just a few months after Mishti’s last meeting with him in prison. Isolation, guilt, and the complete severing of his outside connections had hollowed him out. Alone with his regrets, unable to bear the weight of what he had destroyed, he had passed away quietly.
When the news reached Wadhwa Mansion, Karan had breathed for the first time in years as if something heavy had finally lifted. Justice, at last, for his mother. For his family. For everything he had fought for, was served.
And Mishti…She had felt no grief. She had already mourned the man her father should have been and had decided not to grieve someone who had caused suffering for his own greed.
“Karan… the camera is at the front, buddy,” Rajat’s voice echoed, pulling them both back into the present.
Mishti moved closer instinctively as Karan’s arm tightened around her waist. Together, they turned toward the lens, ready for one more photograph.
One more memory.
One more proof that love, when chosen, could turn even the darkest beginning into something worth passing on.
And as the camera clicked, Karan and Mishti smiled, surrounded by laughter, children, and warmth, having found not just each other, but a meaning to their lives that revenge had never been able to give.
Only…One Hellish…Lovehad.
THE END
