Ved's pov,

Everything in my life had been a war-one not fought with weapons, but with resilience. Every good thing I had ever earned came at a cost. I wasn't handed love; I clawed through heartbreak for it. I wasn't given peace; I forged it from the silence of sleepless nights. And happiness? That elusive luxury was always fleeting, never promised, and barely tasted.
As I drove towards Mishra Mansion, the city passed by in a blur of shadows and headlights. The sky above was dipped in hues of dying sunlight-lavender bleeding into coral, blushing into the slow blue of twilight. But none of it reached me. None of it touched the hollow within.
Until her name thundered through my veins-uninvited, unforgotten.
Oovi.
God, even thinking her name hurt. But today... today, it felt like she was close. Too close.
Maybe it was the air, laced with the same jasmine scent she used to wear. Or maybe it was the haunting way her memory crept into the quiet corners of my mind. I could swear I heard her laughter in the whisper of the wind, saw her silhouette reflected in the mirrored windows I passed. It made my heart race and ache all at once, as if it recognized something the rest of me still refused to accept-that love doesn't die. It hibernates. Quietly. Painfully.
My phone buzzed repeatedly on the seat beside me. I didn't check. I couldn't. The world could wait. I was lost somewhere between what was and what should have been.
The Mishra Mansion stood tall, decorated like a palace plucked out of a royal dream. Draped in crystal chandeliers and gold-threaded fabrics, it glittered under the spotlight of society's approval. Tonight, it wasn't just any event-it was the celebration of my first wedding anniversary with Natasha Dixit, daughter of Narang Dixit, the real estate mogul who built cities and broke destinies with a pen stroke.
Narang had spared no expense. Everything screamed legacy. But the grandeur only mocked the ache inside me. It felt like walking into a play I never auditioned for, reading lines from a script I didn't write.
Inside, people laughed, champagne flowed, and the scent of roses hung in the air like a lie.
And there she was.
Natasha.
A vision in ivory silk, her saree kissed with emerald embroidery, hugging her frame like moonlight. Her smile dazzled, her posture was poised, and her pride unmistakable. She was the picture of perfection-a woman any man would be lucky to call his. But I didn't want luck. I wanted truth. And Natasha, despite her elegance, wasn't her.
She walked toward me with a practiced grace, her heels barely making a sound.
"Ved," she said, her voice sweet and soft. "You're late."
I offered a crooked smile. "But I'm here."
She didn't press. Just slid her hand through my arm. "Let's make them believe in fairy tales."
________________________________________
The party unfolded like a well-rehearsed ballet. Everything was in place-the twinkling lights, the curated music, the flutes of champagne passed with robotic precision. People circled around us, raising toasts to our 'perfect love', showering us with praise for being the golden couple of the year.
But behind every compliment, I felt the hollowness. The applause was loud, but inside, I was screaming.
Natasha held my hand, guiding us toward the stage. Her hand was warm, hopeful. Mine was cold. Detached.
She clinked her glass gently to command attention. The room dimmed slightly, the spotlight turning to her.
"Good evening, everyone," she began, voice steady, smile radiant. "Thank you all for being here on such a special night. A year ago, Ved and I began a journey together-a bond we promised to nurture with love, trust, and companionship. Tonight, as we celebrate that commitment, I have something else to share with you..."
A hush fell over the room. I turned my head slowly, instinctively sensing something that felt heavier than joy.
"I'm... expecting," she said, her voice trembling with excitement. "Ved and I are going to be parents."
The room erupted in cheers. Glasses clinked. Guests cheered. Narang Dixit stood with pride, eyes moist. Flashbulbs sparked like stars. Everyone around us celebrated.
Except me.
I stood frozen. Numb.
I tried-tried so hard-to match their joy, to pull a smile from somewhere deep within. But my heart refused. My gaze drifted away-searching for her. For Oovi. For the ghost of the girl who had vanished but still haunted every breath I took.
"Ved," Natasha whispered, offering her hand for me to hold. "Say something..."
I nodded faintly. "That's... great news."
But my voice lacked conviction, and my eyes... they had already wandered away.
Moments later, I excused myself, murmuring something about needing air. I stepped onto the balcony, into the solitude of the stars, and pulled out my phone.
I typed her name.
Oovi.
No results. As always.
But the ache in my chest didn't need confirmation. Her absence was louder than her presence had ever been.
________________________________________
"Bhai!" Adhvay's voice pierced through my daze. My younger brother, always the one to bring logic where my heart spiralled in chaos, looked concerned, and all this years have changed him a lot actually they made him more mature.
"Something's wrong," he said, voice hushed, urgent. "I just got a call from the Delhi branch. There's been a major mishap."
"What kind of mishap?" I asked, already dreading the answer.
"Security breach. Server meltdown. Possibly fraud, or something big than we ever could thought, it have already been collapsed, We need to be there now."
I looked back inside. Natasha was laughing with guests, hands resting gently on her still-flat stomach, eyes scanning for me.
But I had already made the decision before the conflict began.
"Let's go," I said.
"Now?" Adhvay asked, incredulous. "At your own anniversary party?"
"Especially now," I murmured.
We left quietly, slipping away like shadows in the night.
________________________________________
Hours later, as our car sped through the highway towards Delhi, the silence between us was heavy.
"You didn't say a word to her," Adhvay finally said.
"What was I supposed to say?" I asked him
"That you're going to be a father? That you're happy? That even if you're not, she at least deserves your honesty?"
I looked away, jaw tight. "Don't start, Adhvay."
"She's your wife, bhai," he said, not unkindly. "She deserves more than just your presence. She deserves your heart."
I sighed. "You know I gave that away a long time ago and I never promised her love" I clenched my jaw with that.
"But you gave her your name."
"No," I said quietly. "I gave her a place in my life. Not my heart. That still belongs to someone who never came back."
Back at Mishra Mansion...
Natasha stood alone in the bedroom, the celebration now a carcass of cold champagne and empty compliments. Her father paced downstairs, barking at PR teams to contain the whispers.
But Natasha? She sat on the edge of the bed, her palm resting protectively on her stomach.
The silence rang louder than the band had.
No text from him. No goodbye. No apology. Just... absence.
"How could you leave, Ved?" she whispered, tears streaking down her flawless makeup. "How could you abandon us like we meant nothing?"
The diamond necklace she wore-his gift-suddenly felt like a noose.
She looked into the mirror, saw the woman smiling on stage hours ago, and no longer recognized her.
________________________________________
Ved's POV,
We reached Delhi before dawn. The branch was a disaster-servers down, employees in chaos, data bleeding into the dark corners of cyber warfare. But even as I barked orders and tried to salvage what we could, my mind wasn't here.
It was still in that ballroom.
It was still with Natasha, her hopeful eyes fixed on mine.
And it was still, eternally, hopelessly-with Oovi.
Some wounds never heal.
Some goodbyes never close the door.
And some love stories... they don't end. They just go quiet.