Chapter 28

Lamia’s Point Of View

The sound of soft knocking on the door stirred me from sleep, followed by the gentle rustle of curtains as light peeked in. I groaned, rolling over, only to feel a hand shake my shoulder gently.

“Lamia,” Rani’s voice called, surprisingly sweet and careful for someone waking me up. “Bumangon ka na. May bisita ka.”

I blinked my eyes open slowly. “Bisita?”

She nodded, already dressed in one of her pastel loungewear sets, hair slicked into a clean bun, looking effortlessly elegant even without makeup. “Nasa baba na sila. They’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes.”

I sat up, heart pounding just a little. “Sino?”

Rani just gave a soft smirk. “Go downstairs and find out.”

Curious and half-asleep, I stumbled toward the walk-in closet, pulling on a red silk robe and brushing my fingers through my tangled hair. As I descended the stairs, I could already hear the excited giggling and familiar voices bouncing off the penthouse walls.

And then I saw them.

Aeris Khalida, tall, statuesque, with dramatic lashes, stood beside Keona, my wild-hearted American-Latina friend whose rainbow-dyed ends peeked out from her oversized sunglasses.

“Aeris? Keona?!” I gasped, almost not believing what I was seeing.

“LAMIA!” they both shrieked at the same time, rushing toward me in unison.

The next few moments were chaos, full of loud laughter, tight hugs, the kind that squeezed all the air out of your lungs. It had been more than a year since I’d seen them. Not since before the marriage, before the pregnancy, before everything.

Keona cupped my cheeks, staring at me like I was a long-lost relic. “Girl, you’re glowing. What the hell is this?! Motherhood looks good on you.”

Aeris nodded in approval, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “You’re radiant. Wifey energy.”

I blushed, laughing breathlessly. “You guys didn’t tell me you were coming!”

Keona grinned. “We wanted to surprise you. I mean, hello? Faisal’s turning one! Like we were gonna miss that?”

“And,” Aeris added with a sly glance around, “I missed your family, the last time I saw you was your wedding day. Remember that you wanted to kill me because I told Dove not to attend your wedding.”

I glanced toward the kitchen where Rani was now quietly instructing Anna about coffee service, pretending she wasn’t listening, though I knew she absolutely was.

“Let’s sit,” I said, leading them to the sunlit lounge as I felt my chest warm with gratitude. It felt so surreal having them here, as if the old parts of my life were finally merging with the new.

And maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something whole.

I blinked. “Wait… Rani called you?”

Rani, who was now leaning against the marble counter with her arms folded, just smirked. “Someone had to call in reinforcements. You’ve been smiling, sure, but I knew you’d need them.”

I looked at her, surprised. Not annoyed. Just… surprised.

Keona rolled her eyes, “She’s actually very convincing on the phone. She said something like, ‘I don’t like you, but Lamia does, and she needs her girls.’ That sold me.”

Aeris snorted. “She also threatened to cancel our flower deliveries for the party.”

My mouth fell open, turning to Rani. “You blackmailed them?”

“I call it persuasive coordination,” Rani said, lips curving proudly as she walked off toward Faisal’s nursery.

“Still a diva,” Keona whispered to me, grinning.

I pulled both of them to the living room where the soft sun lit up the couches. The three of us sank into the seats like no time had passed at all.

Aeris placed her hand gently on mine. “We saw everything on the news, Lamia. The marriage, the press, the business… then silence. We were worried. But we didn’t want to pressure you.”

I sighed, head leaning back on the cushion. “There was… a lot. The marriage wasn’t something I wanted. Neither did she. And at first, we hated each other. We both had… others. And then…”

“Peterson,” Aeris said quietly. Her voice held an edge.

Keona made a face. “I always hated that guy.”

I nodded slowly, chest tight. “He’s the reason she lost our baby.”

They both grew quiet. Aeris reached out and held my hand.

“And now?” she asked softly.

I turned my head slightly toward the hallway where I’d seen Rani disappear. “Now? We’re… trying. She’s changed. Or maybe I did. But it’s not just for Faisal anymore. I think I’m falling in love with my own wife.”

Keona blinked. “Damn.”

Aeris smiled, that old warmth returning to her voice. “Well, that’s what we’re here for then. To remind you who you were. And to celebrate who you’re becoming.”

I bit back the tears threatening to pool. “I missed you both.”

Keona tossed her hair. “You better have. I flew coach for this.”

We laughed, all three of us, tangled in the comfort of years of friendship.

The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the penthouse as I lounged on the plush sectional, surrounded by two of my fiercest and most beloved friends, Aeris and Keona. Despite the years and miles between us, their energy was just as vibrant as ever. Aeris, with her signature confidence and unapologetic diva flair, and Keona, whose quiet but sharp presence always kept us grounded, made this rare reunion feel electric.

“I still can’t believe you flew in without telling me,” I said, arching a perfectly shaped brow at Aeris, who wore that smug, playful smile only a true diva could master.

She smirked back, eyes glittering with mischief. “Surprise, darling. You know if I gave you a heads-up, you’d make me cancel.”

Keona chuckled from the corner, sipping her coffee with an elegant tilt of her head. “That’s Aeris for you. Always the dramatic entrance.”

I rolled my eyes but the smile tugged at my lips. “You know I live for drama… but not when it’s about my best friend sneaking in like a thief.”

Aeris flopped back into the couch, her long lashes fluttering over that fierce gaze of hers. “Let’s be real, your life’s drama puts mine to shame.”

I laughed, the sound light but with a weight beneath it. “Speaking of drama, last time we talked, you were dodging your mom’s calls and crying over that boy… Hassan, was it?”

Aeris groaned in mock agony. “Ugh, yes, Hassan. The love of my life and my personal nightmare.”

Keona smirked. “I thought you two were practically engaged by now. What happened to the perfect architect boyfriend?”

Aeris sighed, setting her cup down with exaggerated care. “We still are… sort of. But the real nightmare is my parents pushing me into an arranged marriage.”

I tilted my head, intrigued and a little amused. “Arranged marriage? You? Who’s the lucky diva?”

Her eyes narrowed with exasperation. “Maxine Laurrie.”

I blinked, startled. “Wait, that Maxine Laurrie? The flawless, ice-queen CEO and cover model?”

“The very same,” Aeris said with a theatrical eye roll. “Maxine, the one who can stop traffic with a single glance and break the internet with a single Instagram post.”

Keona laughed, nearly choking on her coffee. “Are you serious? Your parents want you to marry her?”

“Yep. Apparently it’s a ‘strategic alliance.’ Oil and glamour mixing with business empires. My dad thinks it’s the merger of the century,” Aeris snapped her fingers. “But we both know it’s just a power move cloaked in luxury.”

I raised my cup in a half-toast. “And is Maxine as diva-tastic as she looks?”

Aeris’s grin was devilish. “Oh, she’s a diva alright. Straight as an arrow, with a boyfriend who’s some pro athlete or something. But we hate each other. It’s like a reality show waiting to happen.”

I felt a pang of sympathy for my friend. “So you and Maxine, two straight divas, both with boyfriends, both forced to marry each other by your families.”

Keona shook her head. “That’s a script no one asked for.”

Aeris leaned forward, her voice dropping. “We even met, for lunch. Maxine’s sharp, smart, and equally furious about this whole mess. But her family’s grip is ironclad, all about image and control.”

The air thickened with shared frustration and unspoken dreams. “Sounds like we’re all caught between legacy and what our hearts really want,” I murmured.

Aeris nodded, eyes glistening with vulnerability behind her perfectly applied makeup. “You’re the only one I trust with this, Lamia. You’ve lived through your own arranged marriage hell.”

I swallowed hard, memories crashing in, the pain, the betrayal, the suffocating expectations. “It nearly broke me. But I’m still here. Still fighting. Just like you will.”

Keona’s voice was steady and warm. “You survived, Lamia. And that means there’s hope for all of us.”

I looked at them, two warriors battling their own demons. “I don’t know if I can call it love yet, but Rani and I are finding a way to make peace. To build something real for Faisal. That’s all I can hope for.”

Aeris smiled sadly. “I don’t want to end up resenting the person I’m supposed to marry.”

“You won’t,” I said with conviction. “Because you’ll fight it. We’ll all fight it. Maybe one day, our families will have no choice but to listen.”

She reached out, squeezing my hand. “I’m just so tired.”

“I know,” I whispered. “But whatever you choose, I’m here. To run or to fight… you won’t do it alone.”

Keona lifted her cup in a quiet toast. “To freedom. To divas who refuse to be caged.”

We clinked our mugs, a small but fierce rebellion against the worlds that tried to define us. In that moment, with the glow of friendship, love, and defiance, we carved out a space where we could simply be ourselves.

——

The morning light spilled softly through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, casting a golden glow over everything. I stretched languidly on the oversized velvet armchair, my silk robe slipping just enough to remind me how effortlessly luxurious my life could be when I let myself relax. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of warm pancakes and tropical fruits, Aeris and Keona had already taken over the kitchen, their laughter and sass filling the space.

I made my way into the dining area, where the breakfast spread was nothing short of decadent. Golden waffles stacked high, bowls of fresh mango and papaya glistened like jewels, and perfectly crisp bacon lay beside a fluffy cloud of scrambled eggs. Aeris, ever the perfectionist, was arranging a platter of smoked salmon with the precision of a painter placing brush strokes on canvas.

Keona caught my eye and winked, “You’re just in time, diva. Aeris was about to give the eggs a pep talk, you know, so they don’t turn out boring.”

I smirked, slipping onto a chair beside them. “Only the best pep talks for breakfast. I’d expect nothing less.”

Aeris tossed me a playful glare but her smile betrayed her amusement. “Breakfast is serious business. Especially when we’re plotting world domination or just surviving another day of family drama.”

We laughed, the easy camaraderie between us a balm to the underlying stress none of us wanted to fully face yet. The table was set with fine china, crystal glasses catching the morning light, turning it into a sparkling cascade that rivaled even the most exclusive gala.

As I reached for a slice of mango, Aeris leaned in, voice dropping conspiratorially. “So, Lamia… what’s your game plan for handling Rani? You two really making peace or is this just a temporary ceasefire?”

I paused, considering. “We’re trying. For Faisal, mostly. The past still lingers, but we’re both divas, stubborn, proud. We won’t back down easily.”

Keona nodded knowingly. “Divas don’t do easy, do they?”

“No,” I admitted with a small laugh. “But maybe that’s our strength. We demand more from life… and from each other.”

Aeris’s eyes softened, and she reached over, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “Whatever happens, I’m here. You’re not alone in this.”

I felt a swell of gratitude for these two, for their fierce loyalty and understanding. “Thank you. I mean it. You both remind me that even in the darkest dramas, there’s still light and love.”

The conversation drifted effortlessly from wedding horrors to career ambitions, to stories of failed dates and moments of unexpected joy. For a few hours, the weight of our families, our pasts, and our futures lifted, replaced by friendship, laughter, and the shared knowledge that no matter what battles lay ahead, we’d face them as divas, strong, unapologetic, and united.

I took a bite of the fluffy pancake, savoring the sweetness as Aeris leaned back dramatically, swirling her coffee like a true queen. “You know, I swear my parents think I’m running a modeling agency instead of living my own life.”

Keona snorted, “If only they knew we all have our own secret rebellions. Like me, sneaking out for late-night dinners with my boyfriend when my parents think I’m working late.”

I smirked, “Oh, so you’re the sneaky one, huh? That explains the constant ’emergency meetings.'”

Keona grinned mischievously. “Exactly. And what about you, Lamia? You ever sneak away from your diva duties?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Every chance I get. Like right now, escaping the endless calls and emails about Faisal’s party. But honestly? It’s not just about escaping. It’s about trying to hold on to who I am, beyond the names and expectations.”

Aeris nodded, eyes glinting with that familiar fire. “I get that. Sometimes I feel like I’m living two lives, the perfect daughter with perfect plans, and the messy, passionate woman who just wants to love who she wants.”

Keona tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do you think Maxine gets that too? I mean, being forced into something so public, so… staged?”

Aeris’s jaw tightened. “She hates it. We hate it. And the worst part? We’re both divas. We don’t just want to survive these arrangements, we want to conquer them, on our own terms.”

“You know, if we ever have to walk down that aisle, I want to do it with a bang. Like, fireworks, a red carpet, the whole diva spectacle… but on our terms.” Aeris added.

I chuckled. “A diva’s wedding, huh? Full of drama and flawless style.”

Keona added, “And maybe a little rebellion hidden in the details. Like a hidden tattoo or a secret song.”

We laughed, the idea turning our shared frustration into a playful dream.

Aeris’s smile softened. “It’s nice, though… being here with you both. Like I’m not fighting this battle alone.”

I reached out, squeezing her hand. “You never are. We’re also sisters. And sisters don’t let each other fall.”

Keona nodded, her voice steady. “Exactly. No matter what our parents say, no matter the expectations, we write our own stories.”

The sun climbed higher outside, but inside, with coffee cups raised and hearts a little lighter, we felt ready to face whatever came next, fierce, united, and unapologetically ourselves.

Just as Aeris was about to launch into another dramatic rant, the soft click of Hermes slippers announced someone entering the dining area. I glanced up to see Rani, impeccably dressed even at breakfast, her presence commanding attention the moment she stepped in.

“Well, well,” she purred, arching a perfectly shaped brow as she surveyed us. “Looks like I’m crashing the party.”

Aeris grinned mischievously. “Rani! Perfect timing. You just missed my story about my mom trying to set me up with Maxine Laurrie.”

Rani’s eyes flicked with interest, but she kept her diva composure. “Maxine Laurrie… The model and CEO? That one?”

“Exactly,” I said, nodding. “Aeris’s parents want her to marry Maxine. It’s complicated.”

Rani took a seat beside me, crossing one leg over the other with that familiar diva flair. “Sounds like a mess. You girls always have the most interesting family dramas.”

Keona laughed lightly. “Oh, you have no idea. But enough about our problems, how are you holding up with all the birthday prep?”

Rani smiled, but it was softer than usual. “Honestly? It’s been… enlightening. Spending time away from work, focusing on Faisal, on us… it’s forcing me to rethink everything.”

Aeris’s eyes softened. “See? Even the biggest divas have to soften sometimes.”

Rani smirked, taking a sip of her coffee. “Soft doesn’t mean weak. It just means I’m learning to be… more human.”

I reached over, brushing my fingers against hers. “We’re all learning, Rani. And I think Faisal’s lucky to have a mom like you.”

She glanced at me, a rare flicker of gratitude in her eyes. “And you, Lamia. Maybe we’re not so different, after all.”

The room felt warmer, the diva energy still present but tempered with something new… understanding.

Rani’s voice dropped just enough to be intimate. “Let’s make sure it’s unforgettable. For Faisal. And maybe, a little for us, too.”

I smiled, feeling that fragile hope bloom brighter than ever.

The clink of glasses lingered in the air as the morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the dining room. It felt like a rare moment… three divas and one queen, all gathered around the same table without the usual battle of egos.

Rani took another sip of her coffee, then leaned back slightly, her gaze drifting toward Aeris. “So, Aeris, tell me… how exactly does Maxine deal with all this? I mean, being a celebrity, a model, and now this forced engagement drama?”

Aeris rolled her eyes with a small smile. “Maxine? She’s fierce. She doesn’t back down from anything. But she hates this situation as much as I do. It’s like both our families are playing chess with our lives.”

Keona nodded, folding her hands neatly on the table. “And from what I’ve heard, they’re both so stubborn. The kind of people who want their way no matter what.”

I glanced at Rani, who was watching Aeris intently, then decided to join in. “That sounds a lot like what I’ve been through. My parents, Rani’s parents… It’s like they see us as pawns to secure alliances, not people with lives and feelings.”

Rani nodded in agreement, her expression softening. “Exactly. It’s exhausting, pretending you’re okay with it all.”

Aeris sighed. “I sometimes wonder what it would be like to just live for ourselves… for once.”

Keona gave a knowing smile. “Maybe that’s what makes moments like this so important. We get to remind ourselves that we’re more than just our families’ plans.”

I looked around the table, feeling the weight of years and distance melt away. “We’ve all been pushed into molds, told who to love, where to go, what to become. But we’re still here. Still fighting. Still choosing, even if it’s just one small thing at a time.”

——

The penthouse felt quieter than usual. Not lonely, not quite, but undeniably emptier now that Keona and Aeris had gone home to their places here in the Philippines. I missed the laughter, the chaos, the comfortable way we snapped at each other like we were still teenagers in Dubai. But there wasn’t time to dwell.

Rani and I had a full day ahead, and by 10 a.m., we were already on the road. The familiar hum of the engine filled the silence inside the SUV as we cruised down EDSA toward Makati, windows tinted against the glare of the morning sun. Our chauffeur knew the drill. No unnecessary stops. No small talk.

Rani sat beside me, her legs crossed elegantly, tablet in one hand and a tall iced Americano in the other. Her sunglasses hid most of her expression, but I could still see the small crease on her forehead, that tiny furrow that told me she was in full-blown perfectionist mode.

“The cake artist is meeting us first,” she said without looking up. “Then the balloon stylist. After that, stage designer, table layout, photo wall, dessert stylist, and later… another walkthrough of the venue.”

I smirked, leaning my head against the cool leather. “You forgot the fireworks meeting.”

“I didn’t forget,” she replied coolly. “I just moved it to tomorrow so your highness won’t faint from diva exhaustion.”

I let out a soft laugh. Exhausting? Yes. But the way she cared about every detail, how meticulous she was about Faisal’s birthday… it wasn’t just control. It was love. I saw it in every crossed-out checklist and every email she triple-checked. It wasn’t just a party to her. It was a gift.

At the private showroom in Makati, we were greeted with champagne and an eager team of creatives ready to impress two Al-Gadaffis. The ceiling soared above us, and every corner of the space had some elaborate setup, from minimalist pastels to full-blown carnival.

Eric, the balloon stylist, dressed in head-to-toe linen with glitter on his brows, gestured toward a grand arch display dripping in oversized florals and metallic balloons.

“Picture this, but in ivory, champagne, and powder blue. Hand-painted animal balloons, soft matte textures, zero latex, completely biodegradable. And of course,” he paused dramatically, “absolutely no clowns.”

Rani raised a brow. “Good. Because I’d walk out if I saw one.”

Eric clutched his chest. “Same, mama. Same.”

The day blurred into velvet swatches, cupcake samples, glittering centerpieces, and digitally animated party walkthroughs. Rani asked the kind of questions most people wouldn’t think to ask, about guest parking, tent ventilation, childproof decor, noise thresholds. She had a sharp tongue when something wasn’t up to par, but damn if it didn’t get things done.

By the time we reached the last venue meeting, the sky was a dusky gold. We were back at the garden location in Manila Bay, watching the setup crew begin stringing warm fairy lights between the trees. Rani kicked off her heels the moment we stepped into the venue’s lounge and sank into a chair like a queen who’d just won a war.

“God,” she exhaled, tilting her head to look at me with a rare, amused smirk. “We are actually insane.”

I collapsed beside her and let my head fall back. “Faisal better remember this when he turns 30 and starts dating someone I don’t like.”

Her laugh rang out across the room, free and unguarded, the kind of laugh I hadn’t heard from her in a long time. It made something in my chest ache, soft and almost hopeful.

“Tomorrow,” she said, pulling up a new page on her tablet, “we’re finalizing the host, entertainers, giveaways, and luxury toy booth.”

I groaned, dragging a hand over my face. “What happened to cake, balloons, and a family slideshow?”

“We’re not peasants, Lamia,” she replied without missing a beat, still scrolling. “Faisal is an Al-Gadaffi.”

I stared at her, barely hiding my smile. “You’re such a diva.”

She glanced up, lips curving. “Takes one to know one.”

I bumped her shoulder, and for a moment, we just sat there, heels off, hair slightly undone, no cameras, no staff. Just two tired women planning something extraordinary for the one little person who tied them together in ways neither of us fully understood yet.

And somehow, despite everything, the past, the complications, the sharp words and sharp heels, it felt like we were building something real.

One gold-dusted dessert bar at a time.

——

The penthouse was dim when we returned, just the low glow of accent lights along the walls casting warmth across the marble floors. The quiet was comforting. Manang Sally had already taken Faisal upstairs to sleep, and the whole place felt softer in the hush of early evening.

Rani set her heels down by the door, her movements slower now, more human than the sharp, composed version of her that had dominated the day. She crossed the living room barefoot, the hem of her silk pants grazing the floor, and I followed behind her silently, both of us too tired to fill the silence with unnecessary words.

It wasn’t until we were in the kitchen, she reaching for water, me leaning against the marble island, then I finally spoke.

“You didn’t have to go this far, you know.”

She paused, glass in hand, then turned to me. Her face was unreadable in the half-light. “For what?”

“For all of this,” I said, motioning vaguely. “The party. The hundreds of details. You’ve done enough. Faisal will be happy with just cake and cuddles.”

She exhaled, almost like she’d been waiting for someone to tell her that. Her shoulders fell slightly.

“I know,” she said softly. “But I think… I’m doing it because I want to prove something.”

I didn’t answer right away. I watched her move to the island and sit across from me, fingers lightly circling the rim of her glass.

“Prove what?” I asked finally.

“That I can give him a life full of warmth. Full of joy.” She looked up at me then, eyes tired but not cold. “Because I didn’t grow up with that. Not always. My parents are so busy that they don’t even remember it’s my birthday. And me? I want him to feel safe. I want him to know he’s loved. Even if…” She hesitated. “Even if we never figure this out… you and me… I want him to always know that he was wanted. That he was celebrated.”

Her voice cracked, just barely, but it stopped me cold.

Because I knew what she meant. I knew what it was to carry guilt… to be unsure if what you were building was out of love, or penance.

“I used to think you didn’t care,” I admitted quietly, my voice lower than before. “About any of this. About being a mother. About me.”

She didn’t flinch. She just looked at me with something heavy and unguarded in her eyes. “I didn’t know how to show it. I thought if I just did everything right on paper, it would make up for everything I did wrong before.”

There was a long silence.

I walked over and sat beside her, our knees brushing. I stared at her hands, perfectly manicured, always moving, always doing something. She never stopped. Not because she didn’t care, but because she cared too much.

“You’re trying,” I whispered.

She nodded, her gaze falling. “So are you.”

I reached out slowly and laced my fingers through hers.

She didn’t pull away.

Maybe this was how we found our way back. Not in grand gestures or perfect parties, but in quiet confessions under the dim kitchen lights.

We sat like that for a long time. No words. Just hands held. Hearts soft.

And when we finally stood to head upstairs, I didn’t let go.

We ascended the stairs in silence, the ambient glow of the sconces casting shadows against the walls. Rani’s fingers were still wrapped around mine, firm but gentle, like she didn’t want to let go… and honestly, neither did I.

Inside our bedroom, everything was as we left it, soft lights, the air lightly scented with the lavender oil Manang Sally always used in the diffuser, and Faisal’s tiny crib in the corner, already still and quiet for the night.

Rani let go of my hand slowly, only to walk to the edge of the bed. She turned her back to me as she removed her blazer, draping it carefully on the chair, then sat on her side of the bed, exhaling like the day had finally caught up with her.

I moved quietly to the other side, peeling off my jewelry one by one, the earrings, the bracelet, the thin chain around my neck. I didn’t speak. I didn’t know how to break the silence without breaking the moment.

But she did.

“You know…” she started, her voice barely a murmur as she leaned back against the pillows, legs curled under her. “Back there, in the kitchen. I wasn’t just talking about Faisal.”

I turned to her slowly. “I know.”

She looked at me then… really looked, and it was all there in her eyes. The weight of what she’d done. The guilt she still carried. The silent apologies she never knew how to say out loud.

“I’ve been a mess, Lamia,” she whispered. “And I’ve hurt you in more ways than I can count. Sometimes I wonder if you’ll ever be able to look at me again without remembering all of it.”

I didn’t respond right away. I just got into bed beside her, folding the covers around my legs. The space between us was small. Tension hung heavy in the air, but it wasn’t anger. It was something else. Something fragile.

“I used to think the same thing,” I finally said. “That no matter what I did, I’d never be more than the woman who said yes to an arranged marriage and destroyed your life.”

Her brows furrowed. “You didn’t destroy my life, Lamia.”

“No?” I gave her a small, bittersweet smile. “You think we came into each other’s lives like blessings?”

She looked down. “No. We came into each other’s lives like storms.”

That made me laugh softly, not out of humor, but recognition. “Exactly. But even storms pass.”

“I still don’t know if we’ll ever be okay,” she said. “Not really. Not the way people dream of being okay.”

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling, then turned to face her. “Maybe we won’t. Maybe we’ll never be a love story. But Rani… we’re becoming something. Something different. And it’s not perfect, but it’s real.”

She blinked hard, then slowly reached for my hand again, under the sheets this time, away from the world. It was a small touch, but it was everything.

“I don’t hate you anymore,” I said quietly, a confession years in the making.

She let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “I think I stopped hating you the night you let me sleep peacefully beside you.”

We stayed like that, in the dark, on opposite sides of the bed, but tethered by something more than history now. Something tender. Wounded, but still alive.

The world outside could demand perfection, could throw legacies and empires and dynasties at our feet. But in this bed, in this moment, we were just two women, tired, scared, healing, trying to raise a son in the middle of the wreckage we didn’t choose.

And maybe, just maybe, finding our way out of it. Together.