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Both of them lean in eagerly as I show them the picture that is absolutely precious. Ayaan’s attempted selfie shows him looking completely frazzled, holding Veer in his arms. Behind him, Vishnu is trying—and failing—to suppress his laughter as he holds a wailing Avika mid-tantrum, her mouth wide open as she cries. Meanwhile, Veer is busy reaching for his sister’s hair, mischief practically radiating from his tiny hands as he tries to grip her pigtails. Aksh is sprawled on the floor, surrounded by what looks like every toy the kids own, wearing a tiara that’s slightly too small for his head.

“Oh my god,” Devika wheezes through her laughter. “Is that my husband wearing Avika’s princess crown?”

“Forget the crown,” Simran giggles. “Look at Ayaan’s face! He looks so ready for fatherhood!”

“And Veer is at it again, pulling Avika’s hair,” I add, grinning. “Poor Aksh looks like he’s about to lose his mind.”

“That boy, I swear, was the sweetest when he was in New York,” Simran chuckles, shaking her head. “Now, after coming here, he’s acquired a talent for causing chaos wherever he goes. And Vishnu looks so done with life in this picture.”

“He really does!” I giggle, pointing at Vishnu’s expression. “And Ayaan captioned it,‘Survival of the Fittest: Fatherhood Edition.’”

We laugh until our sides hurt.

“Speaking of babies,” I say, waggling my eyebrows at them, “we’re hoping to join your parenting club this year.”

“Ooooh!” Simran leans forward excitedly. “Does this mean Operation Baby Shergill is officially in motion?”

“It’s more like Operation Keep-Ayaan-Glued-To-Me-During-Ovulation-Week.” I roll my eyes, making them burst into laughter. “I’ve already warned him—no flying off to Austria for missions until I conceive.”

We again laugh heartily. Just then, our drinks arrive, and we lift our glasses in a toast, clinking them together. Abhay, Simran’s personal bodyguard, and his team maintain their vigilant watch around us, making sure no one bothers us.

“Thank god Vishnu actually allowed this,” Devika says to Simran. “I wasn’t sure we’d pull this off. Our time together—just the three of us.”

“It’s not his fault,” Simran defends him softly. “He’s just worried about the threat that’s still looming over me.”

I reach across the table and squeeze her hand.

“How are you really handling all of that? I can’t imagine how scary it must be knowing someone’s stalking you to hurt you. And on top of that, you’re handling Veer and your business—it must be daunting.”

“Honestly?” She takes another sip of her drink. “Yes, I was scared out of my mind until Vishnu showed up in New York. After that...” she smiles, “I knew I was safe. I knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

I smile, nodding.That’s true.

“He just has this way of making me feel like everything will be okay, no matter how bad it gets,” she adds.

Aww.

“We wanted to check on you so badly,” Devika admits quietly.

“She’s right,” I remark. “When we found out how serious these threats were, we were so worried about you, Simran. But at the same time, we were also upset with you for keeping Veer from us. So, even though we wanted to call and check on you, we didn’t.”

Simran nods, her face falling as guilt tugs at her heart.

“But thank God for Vishnu. He kept us regularly updated, letting us know you were safe,” Devika adds.

“And,” I say, grinning, “we also knew if you can handle someone like Vishnu, who has the entire family following his every command when it comes to security, you can handle almost anything.”

We burst into laughter again, the sound drawing the attention of a group of young men nearby. They glance at us with interest, but before they can even think about approaching us, Abhay and his team shift slightly, their stern looks sending an unspoken warning. That was all it took for the group to scurry away without a backward glance.

“Remember when we used to love that kind of attention?” Devika snorts. “Gone are the days of flirting and guys checking us out. Now we’ve got guards glaring down at anyone who even looks at us.”

“We are tied to our husbands for life,” Simran adds with a grin.

“And we wouldn’t have it any other way,” I say, raising my glass again.

“Cheers to that,” Devika agrees, and we all take another sip.

We’ve come a long way from our carefree days—now we’re wives, mothers, and businesswomen. Yet, sitting here together, it feels like nothing has changed at all. We’re still the same three best friends, only with fuller hearts and lives we wouldn’t trade for anything.