Page 85 of The Secret Bride
Armaan reached under the table and squeezed my hand.
"I know, Papa. I remind myself of that every day."
Throughout dinner, I watched Armaan and his father talk and laugh together. There was healing happening here. Years of distance and pain being slowly bridged. And somehow, my presence seemed to be helping. Papa kept looking between Armaan and me with satisfaction, as though seeing his son happy had lifted some long carried burden from his shoulders.
After dinner, we all sat in the living room and talked late into the night. Papa told stories about Armaan as a child, embarrassing tales that made Armaan groan and me laugh. Dadi shared memories of happier times when the family had been whole.
It was almost midnight when we finally said goodnight and retreated to our bedroom.
I changed into comfortable pajamas while Armaan did the same. When we climbed into bed, he immediately pulled me close, tucking me against his chest where I fit perfectly.
"Thank you," he murmured into my hair.
"For what?"
"For making tonight so perfect. For accepting my father without question. For fitting into this family like you have always been here."
I tilted my head back to look at him.
"This is my family now. Where else would I belong?"
His arms tightened around me.
"Did you see how happy Papa looked? I have not seen him smile like that in years. Maybe ever. He kept telling me how lucky I am, how perfect you are."
"He seems like a wonderful man. I can see where you get your kindness from."
Armaan laughed softly.
"Kindness? Most people would describe me as cold and ruthless."
"That is just what you show the world. I know the real you."
We lay there in comfortable silence for a while, my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. His fingers traced absent patterns on my back.
"Everything feels perfect right now," he said quietly. "You, me, Papa coming home, Dadi healing. Like all the broken pieces are finally coming together."
I knew what he meant. Despite everything, despite the strange circumstances that had brought us together, this felt real. This felt like exactly where I was meant to be.
"I love you," I whispered.
"I love you more," he whispered back.
"Not possible."
"Definitely possible."
I smiled against his chest and let my eyes drift closed. Safe. Loved. Home.
This was happiness. Pure and simple and perfect.
Chapter 22
Armaan
It had been a week since Papa came home, and the house felt more alive than it had in years. We spent our days together as a family, sharing meals, talking late into the evenings, slowly rebuilding the bond that had been broken.
This morning, Papa and I were taking our usual walk through the garden. The air was cool and fresh, carrying the scent of jasmine and roses. Birds sang from the mango trees, and a gentle breeze rustled through the leaves.
