Two years later...

The door clicked softly as a couple stumbled toward it, lips locked, breaths tangled.  he fumbled with the keys, blindly searching for the keyhole while her mouth moved hungrily against his, making it impossible for him to focus.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, her body pressed flush against his, and he let out a helpless, breathless groan.

"Baby—" he muttered between kisses, "I'm trying—but you're making this very... very difficult."

She only smiled against his lips and kissed him deeper.

After what felt like an entire eternity of clumsy attempts, the key finally slid in. The door opened with a soft thud. They stumbled inside without breaking the kiss, hands roaming, mouths desperate.

By the time they reached the bedroom, they were already breathless.

He lifted her slightly, letting her fall onto the bed, his body following right after. Their laughter mingled with their kisses, the sound warm and intimate in the dim room.

"Oh, I missed you so damn much," he murmured into her neck, lips brushing her skin like a plea.

" Just shut-up and Show me," she whispered, pulling him closer by his shirt, "Show me how much."

He kissed the corner of her mouth, the edge of her jaw, her eyelids—slow, teasing, aching devotion in every touch.

"You have no idea," he breathed, voice low and honest, "Knowing you were in the city for a whole week and I still didn't get to see you... it was torture, baby."

She giggled softly, threading her fingers through his hair.

"I'm here only for eight days, love. Six are gone. Just two left." She kissed him back gently, almost apologetically. "I missed you too."

"Oh, don't remind me..." he groaned, dipping his head to her neck, "I already started missing you'."

She laughed into his shoulder, their bodies tangling, their mouths finding each other again—until—

A loud, sharp ringtone shattered the moment.

They both flinched.

He pulled back, annoyed and panting. She  groaned and dropped her head dramatically on the pillow. "Who the hell is calling at a time like this..."

She reached for the phone lazily—
Then froze.

All the color drained from her face.

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no... I'm doomed," she whispered.

He propped himself on his elbow. "What happened, love?"

She  turned the screen toward him.

AANYA – Incoming Call

He blinked. "Oh."

She panicked. "She's going to kill me. Actually murder me and hide my body behind her wardrobe. I already canceled on her yesterday!"

"Relax, Bella," he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Just pick up the call."

She stared at him in horror. "Karan, you know her. how she is, and i you cancel her plan twice—she'll try all her new martial arts moves on me now."

The phone continued ringing aggressively.

With the expression of someone walking toward their execution, Bella finally answered.

"BELLLAAA!"

Bella yanked the phone away from her ear; the scream practically rattled her brain. She inhaled sharply, braced herself, and brought it back.

"Babe, babe, babe—listen," Bella rushed out, already standing up and fixing her messy hair, "Don't raise your blood pressure. I was stuck in an emergency—very serious emergency—but I'm on my way now."

Aanya's voice crackled through the speaker, suspicious and fiery.

Bella closed her eyes and continued, "Just fifteen minutes, okay? Fifteen minutes and I'll be standing right in front of you. Promise."

Aanya exhaled sharply and hung up.

Bella sighed in relief—like someone who had escaped from the jaws of death.

Karan sat on the bed, sulking adorably, looking at her with the saddest puppy eyes. Bella leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"I'm sorry, baby. I really have to go."

He pouted harder.

"We'll meet at the airport," she whispered, brushing her thumb over his jaw. "I promise."

And with a last kiss, she rushed out of the room—leaving Karan staring after her, already missing her warmth.
____

I know you all are wondering how Bella and Karan—two people so different, so unlikely—ever found their way to each other.

To understand that, you have to go back to the beginning... to Aransh and Nisha's wedding. after Aanya left for America. Both families were heartbroken, and without her bright laughter and bossy warmth, no one felt like celebrating. The decorations were minimal. The music was half-hearted. Everyone moved as if carrying an invisible weight.

But Aanya found out.

And in pure Aanya style, she called the families and threatened them mercilessly:

"If you don't celebrate this wedding with all your heart, if you don't make it grand,
I swear I will never return to India again."

That was all it took.

The families panicked—and the wedding turned into a celebration so extravagant, so full of color and light, that it almost looked like they were trying to lure Aanya back home with joy.

And it was there...in the middle of swirling lights, laughter, and music...celebrtaion Bella and Karan became dance partners.

Jay paired with Suzy. Jiya danced with Ansh. Even the elders joined in.

Only Ishaan stood alone for a while—his smile weak, but trying. He had promised Aanya he'd enjoy, he'd be better, so he paired with his mother and mother-in-law, dancing like a quiet, gentle gentleman.

But in the crowd, Karan's heart noticed something he never expected— Bella. At first, it was just a small spark. A harmless crush. A flutter in the middle of a dance. He knew she still loved Ishaan. He knew she was trying to move on. He knew he had no right to hope. But the spark stayed.

And fate brought them together again—this time as colleagues on Mehra Tech Co.'s new Ai hospital project—that spark slowly grew into a flame.

Bella worked as a volunteer doctor for the project. Karan handled the administration and planning. Long nights. Shared coffee. Arguments that turned into laughter. Tired eyes that softened when they met. They became friends—unexpectedly, naturally, gently.

Almost a year passed. A year of small moments that stitched their stories together without either of them noticing.

Then one night, at the project's success party, Karan felt it too strongly to hide anymore.
His voice trembled, but he spoke:

"Bella... I think I love you."

Bella had moved on from Ishaan—her wounds had healed, her heart no longer aching. But she wasn't ready. Not for another relationship. Not again. So she rejected him.

Karan didn't walk away. He didn't push. He didn't force anything. Instead... He stayed. He proved himself. He earned her trust, step by step, like a man determined not to win her—but to deserve her.

Bella slowly began to like him too. But she said nothing, did nothing. And Karan, watching her silence, believed she would never choose him. So after three months, he decided to leave for America. To end his chapter quietly. To protect his heart before it broke. He packed his bags. ready to go. Said his goodbyes.

But then—

Bella shattered. The fear of losing love again, the ache of another goodbye, the realization that she did love him— it all rushed through her like a storm. She ran. Ran straight to him. Tears streaming, breath trembling, voice breaking as she yelled:

"Why are you leaving me? Why do I always lose the people I love?"

Karan froze.

And then she confessed—loudly, desperately, in front of both families:

"I love you! Do you hear me, Karan mehra? I love you!" she cry her heart out in his arm.

That was the moment they began. Karan never took that flight. He stayed 15 more days with her. And though he eventually had to return for work, Bella soon followed—coming to America for an important surgery case study.

And that's where Bella and Aanya found each other again. Two women. Two storms. Two survivors. They spent days together, nights talking, shopping, laughing— and somehow became best friends without even realizing it.

Bella arrived in America a week ago for her case study, and to meet with her father and brother, her father is professor here.

And now she and Aanya are returning to India together. After two long years, Aanya is finally ready— ready to face everything she left behind. Ready to face her past. Ready to face... him.

___

Bella spotted her the moment she stepped into the café.

Aanya was sitting by the window, sunlight spilling across her face like a halo. Her hair was longer now, falling over her shoulders in soft waves. There was a quiet strength in her posture—shoulders relaxed, gaze steady, presence calm yet commanding.

She looked like someone who had rebuilt herself from ashes.

Bella felt guilt punch her in the chest. She walked toward her slowly, like a child approaching a teacher after skipping homework.

"Aanya..." she whispered.

Aanya didn't look up. Not yet. She stirred her coffee with a slow, deliberate motion—the kind that made Bella's stomach drop.

"I am so, so sorry," baby. Bella blurted out the moment she reached the table. "I swear I was busy—an emergency came up and—"

Aanya finally lifted her eyes. Sharp. Knowing. Deadly calm. "Oh, cut the crap, darling," she said, voice smooth as silk but twice as dangerous. "I know exactly what kind of emergency it was."

Bella swallowed hard.

Aanya leaned back in her chair, raised a brow, and added with a perfectly measured smirk— "By any chance... was the emergency's name Karan?"

Bella's soul left her body.

Her mouth opened, closed, opened again—like a malfunctioning fish. Aanya simply lifted her coffee cup to hide the subtle amusement tugging at her lips.

"Aan–Aanya... babe, please, listen—" Bella tried stepping forward, but Aanya raised a finger.

"Oh no, sweetheart. Not a word. Just sit."

Bella dropped into the opposite chair instantly.

Aanya's silence was scarier than her yelling. Bella would've preferred being strangled with Aanya's scarf over this quiet judgement.

"You canceled on me yesterday," Aanya said softly. Too softly. "And today you showed up an hour late."

"I know," Bella whispered, shrinking.

"And the reason..." Aanya tilted her head, "was your little secret romance?"

The tips of Bella's ears burned red.
Aanya let out a slow sigh—then finally, finally smiled.

"You idiot." She reached across the table and pulled Bella into a hug so sudden Bella almost fell out of her chair. Bella froze. Then clung to her.

Aanya held her tight, arms strong, grounding, warm—like she was hugging someone she had missed dearly. "I'm not angry," Aanya whispered into her shoulder. "I just missed you."

Aanya loosened the hug, cupped Bella's face, and gave her a small, affectionate glare.

"And next time you ditch me for Karan..." she tapped Bella's forehead lightly, "I'll break your bones, darling. One by one."

Suddenly she  pushed back her chair so abruptly that half the café turned to look. She didn't care. Panic had decided to grab her entire soul at once. She slapped her palms dramatically on the table, eyes going wide.

"Now let's go! Oh my God—only two days left!" she wailed, sounding like a heroine whose world was collapsing. "Only today is left for me to meet my hubby after two years and I haven't prepared anything. I didn't even buy clothes. I didn't do my hair. I didn't buy gifts. I am completely ruined! And all because of you—you got late!"

Bella didn't even blink.

She simply lifted her coffee cup with veteran calm, took a slow, luxurious sip, and raised one eyebrow—unbothered, unimpressed, and absolutely used to Aanya mehra's theatrics.

"Okay, drama queen," she drawled. "But now that I'm here..." She stood up, dusting her jeans, looking Aanya up and down with the expert eye of someone who had attended one too many fashion emergencies.

"Are we going shopping," she continued, smirking, "or are you planning to go to Ishaan in this dress?"

Aanya gasped as if Bella had personally insulted her ancestors.

"Oh, shut up!" she slapped Bella's arm. "Obviously we're going shopping. I'm going to give a grand entry to India. To Ishaan."

She flipped her hair with unapologetic attitude.

"A kind of entry," she declared, "that will shake him straight to his core."

Bella burst into laughter—full, loud, bubbling—almost choking on air as she watched Aanya's confident, sassy expression.

"Oh God, I missed you," Bella laughed, clutching her stomach.

Aanya smirked with a little tilt of her chin. "I know. I have that effect."

They walked out of the café together, sunlight spilling over them like a warm spotlight. Bella looped her arm through Aanya's, pulling her close. Aanya leaned in, smiling brightly, her earlier panic melting into excited energy.

Two unexpected best friends.
Side by side. Heading toward a mission that felt both ridiculous and monumental.

Aanya was returning— not as the broken girl who had left, but as the woman who was ready to face her past with fire in her eyes.

And Bella, ever her anchor, walked beside her—laughing, teasing, steady. As they stepped onto the busy mall, Aanya glanced at Bella with a grin.

"Shopping mission activated," she announced.

Bella saluted. "Let's go make India—and Ishaan Mehra—lose their minds."

And together, the two women disappeared into the crowd— laughing, glowing, unstoppable.

___

Two days later, the airport buzzed with its usual rush—rolling suitcases, echoing announcements, and the soft hum of travellers chasing their destinations. Amid all of it, Aanya, Bella, and Suzy stood together near the departure gate, three women glowing with excitement, mischief, and a hint of nervous anticipation. India awaited them. Ishaan awaited her.

Aanya's heart was beating faster than the flight engines warming outside. Bella was scrolling through her phone, pretending to be calm but visibly checking the time again and again. Suzy was bouncing on her heels, unable to hide her excitement. becuse someone is waiting for her also.

Suddenly—
"BELLA!!"

A voice came from behind, breathless and frantic. Karan was running toward them, one suitcase dragging wildly behind him. The three women exchanged the same look—confusion, surprise... and then suspicion. Why was he holding a suitcase?

Bella stepped forward, her brows raised sharply. "Babe," she began slowly, "whose bag is this?"

Karan exhaled as if he'd sprinted through an entire war.
"It's... mine."

All three froze. Aanya's mouth opened slightly. Suzy blinked twice. Bella just stared at him.

Karan continued, his expression the definition of a guilty puppy trying to justify himself before the scolding even began.

"I'm coming with you guys," he confessed. "I finished all my work here, and honestly... I didn't even get to spend time with you. I don't know when you'll come back to me. And now your darling Aanya is also flying to India," he pointed at her dramatically, "so you definitely won't return anytime soon. That means I'll be left all alone. So yes—I'm coming too."

His voice softened at the end, almost pleading, as if asking permission to breathe.
Aanya and Suzy couldn't hold it—they burst into uncontrollable laughter, bending slightly, clutching their stomachs.

"Oh God," Aanya said between fits of laughter, "I swear, what is wrong with these Mehra siblings? How can they be this adorable?"

Bella shot both of them a stern glare, the kind that screamed protectiveness and possessiveness in equal measure. "Do not laugh at my man," she warned.

Karan looked at her with a full pout—eyes big, lips pushed forward, as if his entire world depended on her approval. Bella sighed, the edge of her irritation melting instantly. "Okay, baby. You're coming with us," she said, her tone softening completely. "Let's go."

She took his arm, and together the four of them walked inside the airport, the automatic glass doors sliding open like the beginning of a new chapter.

Aanya walked a step behind, her lips curving into a slow smirk. Her fingers lightly brushed the handle of her suitcase as she tilted her chin up. "I'm coming, Mr. Mehra," she whispered under her breath. "Be ready."

The words were soft, but they carried a storm. A storm named Aanya, returning to the man who still didn't know that his world was about to shift again. A man who is going crazy day by day for his women. 

And with that thought, she walked into the airport— A woman with fire in her eyes, Love in her chest,And a destiny waiting on the other side of the sky.

____

In India at Mehra Mansion – Morning

Morning arrived softly at the Mehra mansion, slipping in with the calm dignity that only a new day carries. A thin ribbon of sunlight squeezed through the curtains and fell across Ishaan's face, warming the curve of his cheek, coaxing him awake.

His eyelids fluttered open slowly—heavy, reluctant. Instinctively, his hands reached out on either side of him, searching... searching for a warmth that no longer filled his mornings.

When his fingers brushed against what he was looking for, a faint smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

"Good morning, Mr Super Robo," he whispered, his voice tender, almost fragile.
He lifted the small robot to his chest for a moment, as if greeting a friend who had helped him survive countless lonely nights.
"Did you sleep well?" he added softly.

He sat up on the thin floor mattress—the same mattress he had slept on every night since Aanya left. The same place on the floor where he used to sleep when she is with him.

He folded the mattress neatly, placed it inside the closet, and looked at the untouched bed beside him—large, comfortable, perfectly made.

"Come back soon, Rose," he murmured to the empty room.
"This bed misses you... I miss you."

He couldn't sleep there. Not without her.
That bed held her laughter, her scent, her shape. It felt wrong to occupy a space where she once spread like octopus, unaware of how deeply she was carving herself into him.

So he slept on the floor—with her blanket still faintly carrying her warm fragrance, her pillow hugging his arm, and her little Super Robo clutched against his heart.

He sighed, long and quiet, then stepped into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, he emerged freshly dressed for work—crisp shirt, calm expression, but eyes carrying a quiet ache.

The dining hall glowed with soft morning light. Mehra family sat around the long polished table—everyone except Nisha, who now lived with her husband in her in-laws' home.

Ishaan took his seat and glanced around casually—until his gaze landed on Jay, who was smiling down at his phone like the screen held a private universe only he could enter.

Ishaan raised an eyebrow.

"Jay, what is so fascinating in that phone that you're smiling like this?" he teased.

Jay immediately straightened, placing the phone face-down on the table with the speed of a guilty teenager.

Before he could form a believable excuse, Jiya, sitting next to him, opened her mouth,
"Oh, bhai, it's Su—"

Jay's hand flew over her mouth, silencing her mid-syllable.

With a nervous grin, he said,
"It's nothing, bhai. Just a friend sending jokes. That's all."

Ishaan hummed, not fully convinced but not pushing either.

Jiya finally freed from Jay's grip, tried again:
"No, bhai, it's actually Su—"

Jay clamped her mouth shut again, glaring.
"Say one more word, Jiya, and I'll tell everyone about Ansh."

Her eyes widened. She instantly zipped her lips like a sealed envelope and nodded dramatically.

"Yes, bhai," she said quickly. "Just jokes."

The entire table erupted into laughter—except Mrs. Mehra, who muttered under her breath "These two, always up to something..."

Ishaan shook his head affectionately.

"How's your internship going, you two?" he asked.

Jiya brightened instantly. Since finishing her exams and entering her third year of college, jay  had also joined her same university—
They both studied different courses, yet somehow spent every day together, always accompanied by Ansh. now three of them graduated 2 month ago and join their internship.

Jay and Ansh shared a fierce, constant rivalry—constantly bickering, constantly trying to outdo each other, yet inseparable.

Jay replied proudly,
"It's going well, bhai. I've started working on new paintings. They might even put one up for exhibition soon."

"And I'm working on new designs," Jiya added excitedly. "The senior designers are guiding us really well."

"That's good," Ishaan said, nodding with a faint smile.

Breakfast continued, laughter spilling across the table, plates passing from hand to hand.
But Jay's smile—soft, secretive, glowing with something unspoken—never once faded.

"soon... bhai is going to be really happy," he thought silently, eyes drifting to the text message still glowing on his phone screen.

Hope stirred inside him—a quiet excitement for the happiness he knew was coming. no one knows but he know. A happiness named Aanya.

Thanks....🫂🫀🙂