Sometimes, distance does not signify the end of a relationship. Instead, it has the power to strengthen the bond between two souls. Many of us have witnessed this in our own lives—people who drift away physically often find a way to settle deeper into our hearts.

Advait and Drishti had once feared that this distance would hollow out their relationship, leaving only emptiness behind. They thought time and separation would turn them into strangers. But fate had other plans. With every mile between them, their hearts grew fonder. With every passing moment, their love only deepened.

They realized that love was not about proximity but about connection—one that neither time nor distance could break.

The faint scent of spring drifted through the open windows as Drishti dusted the shelves, the warm afternoon sun spilling golden light across the room. It was Holi—the festival of colors, of joy, of new beginnings. Yet, amidst the laughter echoing from outside, she found herself lost in the quiet act of cleaning. Or maybe she was searching for something.

Her hands moved instinctively, pulling out an old box buried deep in the closet. As she lifted the lid, a bundle of forgotten memories tumbled out—faded photographs, tiny trinkets, and at the very bottom, a yellowed envelope with her name scrawled across it in familiar, slanted handwriting.

Her breath hitched. So he had been telling the truth… he had written his feelings after all.

Hands trembling, she unfolded the letter. His words, written long ago, felt as if they were whispering straight into her soul.

Drishti,

I don’t know when you’ll read this, or if you ever will. But if you do, I hope you know that distance could never change what I feel for you. You frustrate me, challenge me, and make me want to be better. And I—well, I have never been good with words, but I want you to know… if love had a shape, a color, a sound—it would be you.

Every moment I spent away from you made me realize that home was never a place. It was you.

Soon, I will come to you, my Jaan, and take you with me.

A tear slipped down her cheek, but a smile played at her lips. He had always loved her. Even when he couldn’t say it. Even when they had been apart.

Before she could fully process the emotions surging through her, a sudden burst of color interrupted her thoughts. A warm hand smeared blue powder across her cheek, its touch familiar, its presence undeniable.

She gasped, spinning around—and there he was.

Advait stood before her, a smirk tugging at his lips, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. He was home.

“You’re still the same,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly. “Always lost in your own world.”

Drishti held up the letter, her voice barely above a whisper. “I found this.”

Something flickered in his gaze—surprise, maybe a touch of embarrassment—but it melted into something softer when she whispered, “You were my home too.”

A moment of silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken emotions. Then, without a second thought, she dipped her fingers into the plate of colors nearby and smeared bright pink across his face.

His surprise turned into a chuckle, then into a deep, rich laugh—the kind that made her fall in love with him all over again.

And just like that, he pulled her closer, his fingers curling around her wrist, his voice a husky whisper against her skin.

“Happy Holi, Mrs. Rathore,” he murmured before pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, smudging colors between them, blending their past and present into something beautiful.

Outside, the world celebrated with colors.

Inside, they celebrated with love.

…………………………………

"Stop walking, Drishti," Advait said, glancing up briefly from his laptop as he watched her pacing restlessly across the room. Then, without another word, he returned to his work.

Drishti halted in her tracks, huffing in frustration. "Why? Maine kaha aapse ki aap apna laptop band karein, toh aap kyun mujhe bol rahe hain?" she snapped, crossing her arms.

Advait looked up again. Oh no. He knew that tone. He was in trouble.

Standing up—slowly, cautiously—he walked toward her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. His voice softened. "Meri jaan, main sirf yeh keh raha hoon ki tumhare tehlne se tumhara result accha ya bura toh nahi hone wala. Tum baith bhi sakti ho. Agar aise chalte rahi, toh tumhare pyaare, komal paair dukhne lagenge."

Drishti sighed, taking a deep breath. "Keh toh sahi rahe hain," she admitted reluctantly.

Advait smirked. "Haan, meri jaan." Without waiting for her reply, he guided her toward the sofa, making her sit beside him.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, her voice laced with worry. "Agar mera result sahi nahi aaya toh?"

Advait's expression turned serious as he replied in a firm tone, "Toh tumhe daant padegi."

Drishti immediately lifted her head, her eyes wide with shock. "Kya?" she gasped, pouting.

A deep chuckle rumbled in Advait’s chest. "Mazaak kar raha hoon," he said, shaking his head.

Rolling her eyes, Drishti rested her head back against his shoulder. "Waise bhi, ab main aapse darti nahi hoon," she muttered, a hint of pride in her voice.

Advait raised an eyebrow, teasingly. "Sach mein?"

She hesitated for a moment before whispering, "Bas… aapke taano se darr lagta hai."

Advait grinned, wrapping an arm around her. "Acha? Phir toh mujhe aur practice karni chahiye."

Drishti groaned, burying her face in his chest. "Nahi, bas ab aur nahi!"

And just like that, her worries melted away, replaced by the warmth of his presence.

………………

Drishti sat on the sofa, clutching her phone tightly, her heart pounding against her ribs. The result was out.

Her fingers trembled as she refreshed the page, squeezing her eyes shut. What if she didn’t do well? What if—

"Drishti, stop it now," Advait’s deep voice broke through her anxious thoughts. He effortlessly took the phone from her hands. "Let me check."

She gasped, trying to snatch it back. "No! I’ll see it first!"

But it was too late. Advait had already opened the result.

For a second, he said nothing. His expression remained unreadable.

Her stomach twisted. "Advait?" she whispered, barely breathing.

Then, his lips curled into a slow, proud smile. He turned the phone toward her, his voice brimming with pride. "My love, you did it."

Drishti’s eyes widened as she read the screen—her name was shining at the top. She had passed. With brilliant marks.

For a moment, she just stared in disbelief. Then, a wave of emotions crashed over her—relief, joy, and pure exhilaration. She did it.

"I… I really did it?" she breathed, blinking back tears.

Advait cupped her face, his eyes filled with admiration. "Yes, you did it."

Without thinking, she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. "I can't believe it!"

He chuckled, holding her close. "I always did."

Drishti pulled back slightly, narrowing her eyes playfully. "Then what about all those taunts you kept giving me?"

Advait smirked. "Motivation."

She huffed, lightly smacking his arm. "You are just…"

Before she could finish, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I am just… proud of you, Mrs. Rathore."

Drishti's cheeks warmed, her heart swelling with happiness. This moment—this feeling—was everything.

"I'll just inform Mom and be right back," she said, rising to her feet. He merely hummed in response, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before shifting away.

……………………….

Life had never felt more beautiful and romantic for them. Advait Singh Rathore, a man who once barely smiled, now carried an unshakable warmth on his face—a change only Drishti could bring in him.

Once, he had taken it upon himself to drop Drishti off at college as a responsibility. Even now, he continued the routine, but the roles had shifted. She was no longer a student but a professor. Yet, every morning, he still drove her there and picked her up, as if it was never just a duty but something he had always meant to do.

The love he once believed would remain unspoken now flowed freely from him. Advait, who had once kept his emotions locked away, now found himself expressing them in ways he never imagined. It wasn’t just in grand gestures or whispered confessions—it was in the way his fingers brushed against hers absentmindedly, the way his gaze softened whenever she spoke, and the way his voice carried an undeniable warmth when he called her name.

He no longer hesitated to tell her how much she meant to him. Whether it was a simple "Take care" before she left or a quiet "I missed you" after just a few hours apart, every word, every action reflected a love so deep that even silence spoke volumes.

"Advait, come have dinner," Anjali called out, her voice carrying through the house.

He stepped into the dining area, pulling out a chair to sit, but his eyes instinctively searched the room. His brows furrowed when he didn’t see Drishti anywhere.

"Where is Drishti?" he asked, his voice calm yet firm.

At his question, Anjali and Riddhima exchanged glances—ones that spoke of hesitation, as if they were trying to hide something.

His patience thinned. "I asked something, Ma. Where is Drishti?" His tone sharpened slightly, demanding an answer.

"Beta… woh…" Anjali started, but before she could finish, all eyes turned toward the door.

Drishti stood there with Amaira, tears streaming down her face.

Advait’s heart clenched, and in an instant, his expression darkened. The sight of her crying sent a wave of fear through everyone in the room. Without wasting a second, he rushed toward her, almost running.

He grabbed her by the shoulders, his hold firm yet gentle, but before he could say anything, she threw herself into his arms. Her body trembled as she clung to him, her sobs muffled against his chest. His arms wrapped around her protectively, one hand rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Anjali hurried closer, concern etched all over her face. "What happened, beta? Why are you crying?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.

Drishti hiccupped between sobs, struggling to form words. "Ma… Ma…" she choked out.

Advait’s grip on her tightened, his jaw clenching. "Did someone say something to you? Tell me!" His voice was sharp, his protective instincts kicking in.

Riddhima, equally concerned, turned to Amaira. "Amaira, what happened? Why is she crying?"

Amaira hesitated, glancing at Drishti before turning to them. "Bhabhi… she is…"

"What?" Advait pressed, his heart pounding in anticipation.

Drishti took a deep breath, her teary eyes lifting to meet his. "I… I am pregnant."

Silence fell over the room.

Complete. Utter. Silence.

Advait blinked. Once. Twice. Processing.

Riddhima gasped, Anjali’s eyes widened, and Amaira bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile.

And then—

THUD!

Vihaan, who had been casually drinking water at the dining table, choked and nearly fell off his chair.

Meanwhile, Advait just stood there, frozen, staring at Drishti like she had just dropped a nuclear bomb on him. His mouth opened… then closed… then opened again. No words came out.

Drishti sniffled, wiping her nose on his shirt like a child, completely oblivious to his mini heart attack.

"You… you're what?" Advait finally managed to croak out.

"Pregnant."

The word echoed in his head. His wife was crying because she was… pregnant?

The realization hit him like a brick. His legs wobbled for a second before he grabbed Drishti’s shoulders again. "Wait, why are you crying?!"

Drishti smacked his chest weakly. "No, you idiot! I’m just emotional!"

Amaira burst out laughing. "Bhai, you looked like you were about to kill someone! Chill!"

Anjali finally sighed, shaking her head with a laugh. "Hai Ram, Advait! Instead of being happy, you almost had a heart attack!"

Meanwhile, Vihaan, still recovering from his water-choking incident, muttered, "Bhai, I swear I saw your soul leave your body for a second."

Advait finally snapped out of his daze, looking down at Drishti, whose tears were now a mix of joy and nervousness. His lips slowly curled into a grin.

And just like that, the fear, the panic, and the confusion all melted away. Replaced by something far greater.

"Now, aside everyone! I need to ward off the evil eye from my granddaughter-in-law," Urmila declared, making everyone turn toward her in surprise.

Vihaan, who had been casually observing the chaos, snapped his head toward her, eyes wide. "Wait, what did you just say, Dadi?" He quickly stepped closer, disbelief written all over his face.

Urmila smacked his arm lightly. "Chup, pagal! You've never done anything good in your life, but at least let me do something right!" she scolded, shaking her head.

She then pushed through the gathered crowd, her wrinkled yet steady hands reaching for Drishti. "Move aside, all of you!" she commanded, her voice carrying both authority and warmth.

Drishti, still emotional, looked at her with teary eyes as Urmila gently performed the traditional nazar utarna ritual, murmuring protective words under her breath. The moment was simple yet profound.

Tears welled up in everyone's eyes as

they watched. It wasn’t just about the ritual—it was the love, the acceptance, and the silent promise of family.

Because life was always unpredictable, but sometimes, it surprised you in the most beautiful ways.

🩷🤍....