Flashback

Veer's POV - Flashback

He wasn't looking for her.

But fate plays a wicked game.

That morning in Warsaw, Veer walked out of the cold business tower alone. The city buzzed around him in a language he didn't understand, but the silence inside his chest was louder.

He turned down a quieter lane near the old town. No destination. Just his hands in his pockets, the wind biting through his coat, and his thoughts heavier than usual.

And then-he saw her.

Across the street.

A woman with a soft beige coat, long dark hair pinned loosely, standing at a corner florist. Her fingers moved delicately over petals of fresh tulips. She smiled at something the old vendor said. Her laugh was soft. Light. A sound that could melt snow.

Meher.

His lungs refused to work. His body stilled. For a heartbeat, the world simply paused.

She looked fuller now. Softer. But somehow even more stunning. There was a new glow to her skin, a slow grace in her movements. Her body had blossomed-curves that spoke of womanhood, not girlhood. The kind of beauty time sculpts only when it's kissed by strength and suffering.

The delicate roundness of her hips swayed gently as she walked. Her chest rose and fell beneath a fitted sweater beneath the coat, the fabric hugging her like a second skin. Her legs, long and elegant, carried her down the cobbled street with the kind of quiet power that only a woman who has rebuilt herself can wear.

Veer followed. Silent. Distant. Addicted.

He didn't know why. Or maybe he did.

Because something in him still burned. Something wild. Something dark and deep that had never been satisfied.

She turned into a wide-open park and walked toward a small corner cafe. Sunlight filtered through thin clouds, laying golden glints on her hair.

She picked a quiet table under a tree, ordered something light, then opened a slim black laptop.

She began to type.

Her brows furrowed when she focused. Her lips parted slightly when she thought hard. And when the wind caught her scarf and blew it off her shoulder, exposing the soft line of her neck, Veer clenched his fists.

He had kissed that neck once. Bitten it.

But now she was not his. And maybe never had been.

Desire coiled in his stomach like fire, twisting with guilt.

He didn't want to take her anymore. He wanted her to choose him.

But his body betrayed him. His eyes roamed her like a man dying of thirst. Every curve of hers called to him like a memory that never faded. She was more woman now-ripe, graceful, haunting.

His past came flooding in. Her moans under candlelight. Her trembling fingers clinging to his shirt. The nights he made her his in desperation and power.

But now?

Now, he only wanted to hold her. Fall to her knees. Ask for nothing but the permission to be near her.

The wind carried her scent to him. Lavender and ink.

She sipped coffee. She stared at the screen. She brushed a loose curl behind her ear.

Veer watched her from across the park. Motionless.

And in that moment, he realized-

he could never look at another woman again.

FLASHBACK ENDS.

The next morning, after he had seen the boy outside the school gate, Veer woke up with unrest in his chest.

The boy-his son.

He hadn't slept all night. The child's voice echoed in his mind, calling Meher "Mom" with the kind of innocence that broke his bones.

He wanted to hear that voice again. Up close.

He wanted to speak to him. Just once.

Not as a stranger.

As his father.

That morning, Veer stood near the school again, this time closer. Hidden beside a narrow wall lined with ivy, his eyes locked on the small gate.

And then he saw him.

Ruhan.

Dark-haired, a spark in his eyes, swinging a small backpack as he walked out, his jacket slightly unzipped.

Veer stepped forward. His steps were soft, careful.

"Hey," he said gently, his voice low but kind.

Ruhan turned. He blinked up at the tall man in the long coat.

Veer knelt down slowly. "Hey, I like your backpack. Is that a rocket?"

Ruhan nodded proudly, showing him a small drawing he had made. A crayon sketch-big stars, a moon, a spaceship, and a tiny figure with "DAD" written near the helmet.

Veer's heart stopped.

"Wow... so your dad's an astronaut?" he asked gently.

Ruhan's eyes lit up. "Yes! He went far, far away. Mom said he's in space... but he'll come back someday."

Veer's throat tightened.

Veer's voice trembled. "Maybe he came back."

Ruhan blinked. "Came back?"

Veer nodded again. "I'm here now."

The boy stared at him. "You... you're my dad?"

Veer could only whisper, "Yes, I am."

Ruhan's eyes filled with tears, and in a tiny, trembling voice he whispered, "You're really my dad?" Then, with a soft cry, he ran into Veer's arms, holding him tight like he never wanted to let go. "I knew you'd come back... I waited so long."

Veer couldn't hold back. His arms wrapped around the small boy, his eyes burning.

The moment felt like the universe pausing.

Later, Veer walked into the school office.

He asked for a meeting with the headmistress. Calmly, formally.

When she questioned his identity, he told the truth.

"I'm Veer Singh Rathore. Ruhan's father."

The headmistress frowned. "We have no record of paternal visits. And the mother-"

"I know," Veer said quietly, setting down his business card. The gold crest and the engraved name made the woman pause.

The moment she looked it up, her tone changed.

"The Veer Singh Rathore?"

"Yes. And I want to visit my son. Quietly. Without upsetting his routine or his mother."

"But we-"

"You will receive a donation today," Veer said, still soft. "A partnership, in fact. To upgrade your facilities. I want the best for the boy. And I know you do too."

The school couldn't argue with a name listed on the Forbes cover.

And when they looked at the photo of Ruhan again, it was almost laughable how identical he looked to the man in front of them.

"We won't say a word to his mother," the headmistress finally said. "You have our trust."

Veer left with a nod.

He took Ruhan out for the day.

They went to the most luxurious restaurant in the city-the one with a view of the river and the glass chandeliers that sparkled like stars.

Ruhan laughed. Ate pasta with his little fingers. Talked about his drawings. How his mom always made pancakes on Sundays. How she read to him at night even when she was tired.

Veer listened. Heart full. Eyes misted.

She had raised him right.

Happy.

Healthy.

Loved.

He leaned in at the end of the meal. "Ruhan... can I ask you for a favor?"

The boy looked up with big eyes.

"Don't tell Mom yet. About me."

"Why?" Ruhan asked, curious but not upset.

Veer smiled gently. "Because... Mom is a little angry. But I want to make her smile first. I want her to forgive me. Then we can all be together."

Ruhan thought for a moment. Then nodded slowly.

"Okay. But you have to make her smile soon."