Peace was supposed to feel quiet.
Safe.
Comforting.
But as Aarohi stood by the window, watching the city lights flicker below, none of those words felt real anymore.
Because this peace—
felt borrowed.
Temporary.
Like it could be taken away without warning.
---
Her hand rested lightly over her stomach.
The gesture had become instinct now.
Unconscious.
Protective.
And every time she did it, the truth settled deeper—
She wasn't alone anymore.
---
Behind her, the apartment was calm.
Too calm.
No shouting.
No chaos.
No fear.
And yet—
she couldn't relax.
---
"You've been standing there for ten minutes."
Veer's voice broke the silence.
Low.
Steady.
But observant.
---
Aarohi didn't turn immediately.
"I'm trying to understand something," she said.
"What?"
She finally looked at him.
"This," she replied. "Us. Your world. Where I fit in it."
---
Veer leaned slightly against the table, arms crossed—not defensive, but contained.
"You don't have to fit into it."
"That's easy for you to say."
A pause.
"You've lived in it your whole life."
---
That landed.
Because it was true.
---
Aarohi walked toward him slowly, stopping a few steps away—not distant, but not close either.
"I didn't choose this life," she continued. "It chose me."
Her voice didn't shake.
But the weight behind it was clear.
---
Veer's gaze softened slightly. "And I won't let it hurt you."
Aarohi let out a quiet breath.
"That's the problem."
---
Silence.
---
"You think protection is enough," she said. "Like if you stand in front of me, nothing will touch me."
A faint pause.
"But that's not how it works."
---
Veer's jaw tightened slightly. "Then tell me how it works."
Aarohi held his gaze.
"It works when I feel safe even when you're not there."
That—
that was the line.
---
For the first time, Veer didn't have an immediate answer.
---
Aarohi stepped closer now, her voice softer—but stronger.
"I don't want to live looking over my shoulder every second," she said. "I don't want our child to grow up in fear."
Her hand moved again to her stomach.
Instinct.
Protection.
Truth.
---
Veer's eyes followed the movement.
And something shifted in him.
Deep.
Unspoken.
---
"I can change things," he said quietly.
Aarohi shook her head. "No."
That stopped him.
---
"You can't just say that," she continued. "You can't switch off a world you've built for years."
A pause.
"But you can choose what matters more."
---
Silence filled the space again.
But this time—
it wasn't uncertain.
It was heavy with decision.
---
Veer stepped forward slowly, closing part of the distance—but not all of it.
"I've survived in that world for fifteen years," he said.
Aarohi didn't look away.
"I know."
"And I've never had a reason to leave it."
Another step.
Closer now.
"But now you do," she said.
---
Their eyes locked.
No anger.
No confusion.
Just truth standing between them.
---
Outside, a car slowed down again.
Unnoticed.
Watching.
Waiting.
---
Inside—
everything felt like it was balancing on a thin edge.
---
"I won't force you to stay," Veer said after a moment.
Aarohi's expression shifted slightly.
"But I won't lose you either."
---
That wasn't a promise.
It was a warning.
To the world.
To himself.
---
Aarohi exhaled slowly.
"You don't have to choose between me and your world," she said.
A pause.
"You just have to decide which one comes first."
---
Silence.
Long.
Unavoidable.
---
For a moment, Veer said nothing.
Because for the first time—
this wasn't about power.
Or control.
Or survival.
---
This was about something he had never risked before.
---
Aarohi turned slightly, her gaze drifting back to the window.
The city still looked the same.
Bright.
Alive.
Dangerous.
---
But she wasn't the same girl looking at it anymore.
---
And somewhere in that city—
someone was already making their move.
---
Because peace like this—
never lasted.
Not in Veer Khanna's world.
And definitely not anymore.