SIX MONTHS.

Six months of waking up to the soft drizzle tapping against their London apartment windows… and to Shanaya curled into his side, mumbling in her sleep about meetings and missed coffee. Six months of watching her walk into boardrooms like she was born to run empires—poised, brilliant, ruthless in heels and messy buns.

Kabir watched her now, pacing barefoot across their living room, a silk robe loosely tied over her nightshirt, glasses perched on her nose as she read through a contract with a frown.

God, she was beautiful when she was annoyed.

“You know,” he called out lazily from the couch, “if you keep glaring at that file like that, it might just burst into flames.”

She looked up, blinking once, then rolled her eyes. “If only that worked. Half my problems would be solved.”

Kabir chuckled, stretching his arms behind his head. “Or we could burn your boardroom instead. I’d light the match if you asked nicely.”

She walked over, dropped the file on the table, and sank beside him, legs folded under her. “Tempting,” she murmured, “but sadly, I still need a functioning office.”

Kabir leaned in, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Functioning office. Check. Insanely hot boss. Check.”

Shanaya raised a brow. “Smooth.”

“I try,” he grinned.

She snorted but leaned into him. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer until she was half sprawled across him, her head on his chest. Moments like this—lazy afternoons, her weight resting comfortably against his heart, the scent of coffee lingering in the air—were his favorite part of their new life.

London had changed a lot for them.

It wasn’t just about leaving India. It was about building something that was theirs from scratch. No shadows from the past. No obligations. Just love, healing, and building.

But as much as Kabir had embraced their new chapter, he hadn’t forgotten everything. Some ties back home still needed to be tied up—discreetly, quietly—and that meant a short trip.

He kissed the top of her head, then spoke softly. “Shanaya…”

“Mhm?”

“I have to leave for India tonight.”

She lifted her head instantly. “What? Why?”

“Just a couple of things to take care of. Won’t be more than two days, I promise.”

Her brows furrowed, but she didn’t argue—just stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. But I hate when you're not here.”

“I know,” he said gently, brushing her cheek. “But when I come back, I’m stealing you for a while.”

Her eyes lit up with curiosity. “Stealing me?”

“Hmm.” He grinned, eyes dancing with mischief. “We’re taking a short trip. Just us. No business. No chaos.”

Shanaya’s lips parted. “Where?”

“Not telling. But…” he reached into his back pocket and handed her a sleek black credit card, “Shreya’s already free tomorrow. Go buy yourself something beautiful for this beautiful surprise.”

Shanaya narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “So this is why you’re being extra charming today.”

“Darling,” Kabir smirked, pulling her close again, “I’m always this charming.”

She rolled her eyes but her grin betrayed her affection. “Fine. But this better be good.”

“It’s going to be unforgettable,” he whispered.

Because this wasn’t just a trip.

It was the beginning of forever.

---

KABIR’S POV :

India smelled different now.

Not just of the monsoon-soaked earth or the incense curling from roadside temples—it smelled of memories. Of choices I could never undo, and one woman who had changed everything for me.

I stepped out of the car, my black kurta clinging to me under the humidity of Mumbai’s late afternoon air. My heart pounded harder than it did before a business deal or a mafia confrontation. This wasn’t about power. Or control.

This was about love.

And redemption.

Shanaya’s family home stood tall in front of me. I had only ever passed by it from afar years ago. I never belonged here before. Not when I was hiding too much. Not when I was too broken to deserve her.

But now… now I needed to.

Not for closure.

Not for respect.

But because she was worth it.

Every damn piece of it.

I rang the bell, exhaling slowly. The door creaked open.

Ishaan stood there, still broad-shouldered and calm-eyed. I could see the flicker of surprise in his gaze. A little tension, a little curiosity.

“Kabir.”

“Ishaan.” I nodded respectfully. “Can I come in?”

He held my stare for a beat before stepping aside.

Shanaya’s parents were in the living room. Her mother was folding laundry. Her father sat on the recliner with his reading glasses perched low. When they looked up and saw me, a tense silence spread like smoke.

I bowed slightly, folding my hands. “Namaste, Uncle. Aunty.”

Her mother blinked. Her father put the newspaper down.

“I know this is unexpected. But I came here because there’s something I’ve needed to say for a long time.”

I looked at all three of them, and then slowly dropped to my knees on the floor.

It wasn’t for drama.

It wasn’t for effect.

It was simply because my heart had fallen to its knees a long time ago. This just caught up.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, my voice thick. “For everything. For the pain Shanaya went through because of me. For the way I let her face heartbreak… for the secrets I kept. For being a coward when she deserved a man who could fight the world for her.”

Ishaan shifted but didn’t speak. Her mother’s hands clutched the edge of her saree.

“I know I can’t change the past,” I continued. “But I’m not here to defend myself. I came to ask for something—only if you feel I’m worthy of it now.”

I looked up at them, my throat tight.

“I came to ask for your permission… to marry your daughter.”

Her father stiffened slightly. Her mother’s eyes widened. Ishaan leaned forward, visibly surprised.

“I love Shanaya more than I’ve ever loved anything in this world,” I said, steadying myself. “Not just because she saved me. But because she chose me again and again, even when I didn’t deserve her.”

“I want to build a life with her. I want to wake up next to her for the next fifty years. I want to be the man who supports her dreams and protects her peace. Not as someone from a dangerous past… but as her husband. As her home.”

The silence in the room felt sacred.

“I know I should’ve come here years ago. But I wasn’t ready then. I wasn’t worthy. I’ve spent every second since then becoming someone who is.”

I turned to Shanaya’s father. “Uncle… with all my heart, I ask for your blessing.”

Then to her mother, softly, “Aunty… I want to be the man you’d trust your daughter with.”

And finally, to Ishaan. “I want to be her family. Yours too.”

Her mother’s eyes glistened. Her father looked at me—long, hard—and finally said:

“You were never a bad man, Kabir. Just a broken one. And broken men… sometimes build the strongest homes.”

Then he exhaled. “Yes.”

Her mother nodded, smiling tearfully.

Ishaan clapped my shoulder. “You’ll keep her happy?”

“Till my last breath.”

And in that moment, something unspoken passed between us. A chapter that had long remained unfinished… finally, softly, closed.

I stood up slowly, heart pounding, a tear slipping down my cheek.

Because now I wasn’t just going back to London with a surprise.

I was going back with her parents' blessing.

And a ring that had waited too long to find its home.

---

Forgiveness is not always loud.

Sometimes, it’s a silent nod from a man who once doubted you.

Sometimes, it’s the slight softening in a mother’s gaze when she pours you chai.

Sometimes, it’s a brother offering you a towel after a surprise water balloon fight with the neighbors’ kids.

And that afternoon in Mumbai… forgiveness was all of that.

After the talk, they didn’t rush me out.

They didn’t embrace me either. But they let me stay—and that meant more than words.

I was seated on the floor of their drawing room, sipping hot masala chai. Her mother had insisted I try her homemade mathris. I did. I swore I hadn’t tasted anything like it.

“She made these for Shanaya every winter,” Ishaan told me, smirking. “Shanaya always said she’d sneak some in her coat pocket for school but would finish them before even reaching the gate.”

I laughed, imagining her with crumbs on her lips and mischief in her eyes.

Her mother chuckled too. “Even as a child, that girl had no patience when it came to food. She was always so full of life. Still is, I think. You bring that out in her.”

My chest tightened. That sentence held a kind of quiet approval I hadn’t expected yet.

“I’m just lucky she chose me,” I said honestly.

“Luck doesn’t last this long,” her father replied from the corner. “Effort does.”

I turned to him, understanding the gravity in his words.

“Then I’ll keep choosing effort,” I told him. “Every single day. For her.”

---

LATER THAT EVENING…

I offered to help with dinner. Her mother laughed and waved me away.

“You’ll ruin my kitchen. Go play carrom with Ishaan instead.”

“I’m surprisingly good at it,” I said, raising a brow at Ishaan.

He narrowed his eyes. “Oh? Confident much?”

An hour later, I had lost two rounds and was grinning like a boy half my age. Shanaya’s dad sat nearby, watching the game while quietly sipping whiskey and occasionally throwing in commentary like a referee.

“You missed that shot by a full inch. Shanaya would’ve scored that blindfolded.”

“I believe it,” I said with a lopsided grin. “She’s fierce.”

Her dad smirked. “Took you five years to say that in front of me.”

I paused. Then: “Took me five years to be brave enough.”

He gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “Then you’re on the right track.”

---

THAT NIGHT, AFTER DINNER…

I stayed the night at a nearby hotel, but before I left, her mom walked me to the gate with a small tiffin box.

“I packed the leftover mathris. Shanaya likes it reheated with a little extra butter. Don’t forget.”

I blinked.

It wasn’t just food.

It was home.

It was acceptance.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

She smiled gently. “Don’t mess it up again.”

“I won’t,” I promised.

Because this time, I wasn’t just returning to Shanaya.

I was returning with her family’s trust tucked into my chest like a sacred vow.

And when I slipped into my flight back to London, that small tiffin in my hand, and the engagement ring in my jacket pocket, I knew:

I wasn’t just going to ask Shanaya to be my wife.

I was going to ask her to marry a man who had finally become worthy.

---

AUTHOR’S NOTE :

GUYSSS… are we ready for the most awaited moment?!

Because Kabir Singhania is officially in his “I want to marry this woman and make her mine forever” era!!

Where do you think he’ll propose?

A candlelight rooftop? The middle of the London streets? Somewhere personal? Somewhere grand?

What do you think he’s planned for our girl Shanaya — who has NO idea what’s coming!?

Drop your guesses, scream with me in the comments, and hold your hearts because the proposal chapter is coming next… and it’s going to be magical, emotional, and EVERYTHING this couple deserves.

Are you ready? Because he is.

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