Veins of Power, Threads of Fate

The sun dipped lazily into the hills, casting warm golden hues across the small town that now felt like Ekta's only refuge. It had been just over a year since she walked away from Dev Raghuvanshi - from the pain, from the betrayal, and from the silence that screamed louder than any argument ever could.

Yet, her scars remained.

And so did Adrit.

Her little boy, just over a year old now, had become her anchor, her breath, and her reason to smile even on the worst days.

And now, slowly, gently - without pushing or pressing - Rohan was becoming a part of that fragile little world too.

A Morning of Laughter and Doubt

The kitchen smelled of cardamom, toast, and baby lotion. Ekta balanced Adrit on her hip as she tried feeding him mashed banana, the little boy determined to fling it on the floor instead.

"He's got an arm," Rohan joked from behind the counter as he chopped vegetables. "Might have a future in cricket."

"He's got his father's stubbornness," Ekta said before she could stop herself.

The room went quiet for a second. Rohan didn't press. He never did.

Instead, he looked at Adrit and smiled. "Well, at least we know he'll never give up on what he wants."

Ekta's heart tugged painfully.

She placed Adrit in his playpen and walked to the sink, gripping its edge. The memories came without permission - Dev's harsh voice, his silence afterward, the name "Nitya" on his lips in a drunken haze... and the night everything changed.

She wasn't weak anymore, but she was still healing.

And that wound still bled.

"You okay?" Rohan asked softly, standing beside her now.

"Yeah," she nodded, forcing a smile. "Just tired."

Rohan wanted to tell her she didn't have to lie. That he saw her pain even when she hid it. But he knew - some silences weren't his to break.

So instead, he picked up the tiny sock Adrit had flung and knelt in front of the boy.

"Alright, champ. Let's get you ready for a walk. Mama needs fresh air."

Ekta looked at the two of them - her son and the man who had shown up in her life not to rescue her, but to walk with her. And for a fleeting second, something warm bloomed in her chest.

A Coincidence Too Cruel

A few miles away, Dev Raghuvanshi stood outside a luxury resort on the outskirts of the same town.

His father had forced him into this "business trip" under the guise of expanding the Raghuvanshi legacy into untapped spaces. But Dev wasn't here for numbers. Not truly.

He had heard whispers.

From old associates. From Veer. From even his own mother, who had recently learned about Ekta's move.

"She's somewhere near the foothills," Veer had told him. "Raising your son. Alone."

That sentence had haunted him for months.

He had signed the divorce papers in anger - a man too broken to admit his guilt. And now, months later, he couldn't undo what was done.

But fate - or perhaps karma - was cruelly generous today.

From the glass café of the resort's balcony, Dev spotted a woman walking along the lane below - her white cotton saree fluttering gently in the breeze.

His breath caught.

It was her.

Ekta.

And beside her... a man.

Carrying Adrit on his shoulders. Making the boy laugh.

Dev's world narrowed to that scene.

Ekta smiled - genuinely - as the man handed her a flower from a nearby vendor. She said something, and the man laughed, his gaze tender, protective.

For the first time in his life, Dev felt out of place.

As if he didn't belong to the picture anymore.

And maybe... he never truly had.

A Heart That Trembled

That evening, Ekta sat on the porch, her legs stretched out on a wicker bench, sipping ginger tea. Adrit had fallen asleep after hours of playing in the sun.

Rohan sat across from her, reading something on his tablet, glasses perched on his nose.

She watched him - how peaceful he looked, how solid and sure he seemed even in the quietest of moments.

"You've been so good to us," she whispered.

Rohan looked up, startled.

"I didn't do anything," he said. "I just showed up."

"Sometimes, that's everything."

There was a pause.

"Rohan..." she hesitated, the words burning inside her throat. "Do you... ever think about us? Like... us?"

His heart skipped.

He kept the tablet down, careful not to move too fast.

"Yes," he said honestly. "But I don't expect anything, Ekta. Your heart has been through hell. I don't want to rush a single beat of it."

Tears pricked her eyes.

"I'm scared," she admitted. "Every time I smile, a part of me feels guilty. As if I don't deserve to heal."

Rohan leaned forward.

"You deserve everything, Ekta. Joy. Peace. Love. And not because of what you've endured - but because of who you are."

She reached across the small table, their fingers brushing. The silence stretched - not heavy, but full of meaning.

For the first time in what felt like forever, her heart didn't ache from absence.

It trembled with the possibility of presence.

Dev's Regret

That night, Dev sat alone in his luxury suite, staring at the half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand.

The image of Ekta laughing with that man - Rohan - refused to leave his mind.

She looked free.

Unburdened.

Happy.

He had spent months haunted by her absence, convinced she was as broken as he was. But now he realized the truth.

She had moved on.

She had survived him.

And Dev, the man who once thought himself invincible, found that knowledge more devastating than any bullet, any betrayal he had ever faced in the underworld.

He had destroyed the only pure thing in his life.

And now, someone else was piecing it back together - gently, patiently, lovingly.

And Dev had no right to claim any of it back.