And that son…

Was Haruv.

The moment replayed in flashes.

Too loud. Too fast.

“Boom.”

Haruv blinked and pulled himself out of the memory, his chest rising sharply. He walked toward the small table near the wall.

There, a photo frame stood quietly.

His mother.

Smiling.

The kind of smile that once made the world feel safe.

He picked up the frame carefully, his thumb brushing over the glass. His eyes stayed on her face as the past softened—shifting from pain to warmth.

A park.
Sunlight.
Laughter.

His small hand in hers.

Her voice calling his name.

The ache in his chest changed.

Still painful.

But gentler.

He lay down slowly, the frame resting close beside him.

And sometime between memory and silence, he fell asleep.

Morning came quietly.

Ashi woke early and stepped out for her morning walk.

The air was fresh. Cool.

But her thoughts were not calm.

They circled back to the balcony.

To the way Haruv had looked at her.

Her cheeks warmed again.

She shook her head, embarrassed at herself, and started running—faster than usual.

She reached the park.

Her breath steady.

Her mind slowly clearing.

And then she saw him.

Haruv.

He was there too.

Running. Exercising.

Ashi stopped in her tracks.

Her eyes stayed on him from a distance.

The world felt strangely smaller.

Like fate had gently pushed them into the same place again.