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I feel as if the ground has been pulled out from under me. Something flickers in her eyes—pain, perhaps? But she quickly masks it.

“I’ve built a life here, away from... everything. You can’t just fly across the world and insert yourself into my life like this. I don’t need you complicating things.”

Her outburst stuns me into silence. I hadn’t expected this level of anger and resentment.

I refuse to back down. “Your life is already complicated. Someone out there wants to harm you. How can you stand there and tell me you don’t need help?”

She throws her hands up in exasperation. “Because I’m handling it! I’m not the same person I was back in India, Vishnu. I’ve grown up; I’ve changed. I can take care of myself.”

This time, I step forward, closing the distance between us, and she doesn’t retreat. “I know you’re strong, Simran. I’ve always known that. But this isn’t about strength. It’s about safety. It’s about…”

I trail off as I hear the unmistakable cry of a baby from the bedroom.

Simran freezes, her eyes locking with mine for a fraction of a second before she bolts towards the bedroom. I follow, my mind reeling as I try to process what I’m hearing.

As I step into the room, the world tilts on its axis. There, in Simran’s arms, is a baby boy, no more than a year old. She cradles him close to her chest, rocking him back to sleep with gentle pats on his back. A baby? My mind spins with questions—whose baby is this? Who else lives here with Simran? Is she sharing this apartment with another woman, probably the mother of this child? I don’t know anything. But the way the baby tightly clings to her tells another story.The baby is hers.And it hits me like another physical blow, my heart sinking at the realisation.

“You have a baby?” I blurt out, unable to hide my surprise.

She quickly turns around to face me. The fear I saw in her eyes when she resisted me from entering her apartment is back, this time more intense than before.

“Please, just leave,” she says firmly, though her voice trembles just a bit.

“Is thatyourbaby?” I ask again, my jaw clenched, knowing her reply already.

“Yes, this ismybaby,” she nearly shouts, then quickly gathers herself, lowering her voice for the child’s sake. “This is my son. I’m a single mother. I met someone here, and this baby happened. That’s exactly what I meant by ‘things are different now,’ Vishnu. So please, leave. I’m grateful that you came to protect me, but I don’t need it anymore. I’ll be fine. Just go.”

The room spins around me as I struggle to process her words. She met someone? Here in New York? And had a baby with him? The mere thought of another man touching her makes me want to murder him. Does Meher know? I doubt it—if she did, she would have told me. Why did Simran keep this a secret? And who is the father? Is he still in the picture? Does he live here with them?

A thousand questions race through my mind, each more painful than the last. But one thing is crystal clear. I’m not leaving until I have answers.

With determined strides, I move towards her. Simran’s eyes widen in alarm, and she instinctively clutches the sleeping baby tighter to her chest, as if trying to shield both him and herself from me.

“I’m not leaving, Simran,” I declare, my voice low and resolute. “Not until I ensure you’re safe. And most importantly, not until we figure this out.” I glance pointedly at the sleeping baby in her arms. “All of it.”

For a moment, we stand there, the air between us charged with unspoken emotions and earth-shattering revelations.

“I realise you’ve moved on from whatever happened in the past. But you’re still Meher’s friend, and your safety remains my priority. I’m here to protect you. Nothing more, nothing less. You can push me away all you want, but I’m not going anywhere. We’re meeting again tomorrow, and I expect you to be ready to answer everything I need to know.”

She looks at me, a mixture of defiance and fear clouding her eyes, but I’ve said my piece. With a final, piercing look, I turn and walk out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

As I make my way to the elevator, my body trembles with the force of suppressed emotions. Simran has a child. That single, monumental truth refuses to settle in my mind. It never will! But one thing is certain—I’m not leaving New York until I uncover every last secret she’s kept hidden from me. The stakes have just risen dramatically, and I refuse to back down now.

**************

I storm into the hotel room, barely registering the plush surroundings of the Upper East Side establishment as I slam the door behind me. My hands are still trembling as I head straight for the mini-bar, desperate for something to numb the turmoil raging inside me. I’ve checked into a hotel just a block away from Simran’s apartment, wanting to be in the close vicinity to keep my eye on her.

The smooth burn of whiskey does little to quell the inferno of confusion and anger threatening to consume me.Simran has a baby.The thought repeats itself, a relentless hammer against my head. I down another glass, and in a fit of frustration, I throw it against the wall, the crystal shattering into a thousand glittering pieces.

When did this happen? When did Simran become so integral to my peace of mind? The last eighteen months flash before my eyes—the political games, family obligations, and unspoken regrets. Simran had always been there, a constant presence in the back of my mind, my biggest source of guilt and longing.

Meher’s words echo in my head, a cruel reminder of opportunities lost.“Confess your feelings before it’s too late,”she’d always say. How right she was. Every time Simran’s name came up, my heart would skip a beat. But I’d pushed it aside, convinced that settling down with a woman was a distraction I couldn’t afford.

My sole focus had been on protecting my father, and safeguarding the Walia family legacy. Now, as I grapple with the reality of Simran moving on, I’m left to wonder why I never allowed myself a chance to explore those feelings. Each passing moment deepens the scar on my heart, and the weight of ‘what if’ feels like it’s going to crush me.

I sink onto the edge of the bed, burying my face in my hands. The constant buzzing of my phone serves as a harsh reminder of the world beyond this room. Messages from my father flood the screen, demanding to know why I left so abruptly. How can I possibly explain this to him? To anyone?

The truth is a bitter pill to swallow. My family, including Meher, has no idea of the depth of my feelings for Simran or of the secret that I have hidden from them. And now, with her new life here—one that includes a child—they can never know. It’s a secret I’ll have to carry alone, buried alongside the shattered pieces of my heart.