A quiet Storm

The morning sun filtered in gently, casting a soft glow on the kitchen floor.

Ruhan sat at the breakfast table, quietly stirring his cereal. No spaceship noises, no dinosaur facts, no made-up riddles. Just the quiet clink of his spoon against the bowl.

Meher noticed it immediately.

“Everything okay, baby?” she asked, packing his small lunchbox—cheese sandwiches and apple slices shaped like stars.

He nodded, but didn’t look up. “Yeah.”

“Your teacher said you’re making a solar system project today. Want to take your model?”

He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

Her heart tightened. This wasn’t her Ruhan—the one who woke up with questions and dreams in both fists. This was someone else. Someone quieter.

She walked over, knelt beside him, and gently touched his cheek. “Roo?”

He finally looked at her. And there it was—in those deep eyes framed by long lashes. Something was troubling him.

“Mom…”

“Yes, baby?”

“Do astronauts come back?”

She paused, the knife still in her hand.

“You mean… your dad?” she asked gently.

He nodded, looking down. “You said once he’s on a mission… in space. But everyone in class has a dad. I mean, they talk about them. Some dads came to school yesterday for Father’s Day...”

She felt like her heart was made of glass. A thousand cracks and still somehow holding shape.

“I saw them,” he whispered. “And I thought… maybe mine would come too.”

She bit her lip, reached for his hand. “Ruhan… I didn’t lie to you. I only told you the part I could.”

He blinked. “But why don’t we have any photos of him? Even the other kids have baby photos with their dads.”

Her breath hitched.

Ruhan’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Did he not want me?”

Tears welled in her eyes before she could stop them. She quickly turned her face away, wiping them with the edge of her sleeve. “It’s not that, Ruhan. It’s never that.”

He scooted closer, wrapping his small arms around her waist.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, Mom,” he whispered. “I won’t ask again.”

She cupped his face gently. “You can ask anything, always. You have the right. And one day… when you’re ready—I’ll tell you the truth. But not today. Okay?”

He nodded slowly, leaning into her palm.

That was the thing about Ruhan.

He was young, yes—but his soul had aged through the quiet.

Through the tears she never cried out loud.

Through the love she gave him in place of everything he never had.

---

Later that morning, Meher dropped him off at his kindergarten. She watched as he joined the others, smiling now, helping a classmate fix a bent paper rocket.

Her boy.

So strong.

So kind.

So much like her…

And yet a mirror of the man she once ran from.

---

The office was calm when she arrived. Her desk was beside a glass window overlooking the café across the street. She sipped her coffee and opened her laptop, ready to finish an article she had been researching for days—an exposé on political corruption in Central Europe.

As she opened her documents, a new tab popped up—an auto-generated draft from a Google Alert she had set years ago and long forgotten.

Her eyes scanned the name.

Then stopped.

“Veer Rathore: Business Tycoon’s International Venture Hints at Global Expansion.”

Her fingers froze.

It was a short article. A press release, really. He was investing in a European construction firm. Expanding into global trade. There was even a photo—recent, crisp.

He looked the same.

No, worse.

Sharper. Darker. More hollow.

Her stomach turned.

Why was he in the news again now?

She clicked the source and found a full-length interview, published two days ago.

“Do you regret any decisions from your past?” the interviewer asked.

Veer didn’t blink.

His face was still, carved in stone like the man Meher remembered from her worst nights. But it was the voice—calm, controlled, and yet heavy with something unspoken—that chilled her.

“Some chapters don’t end just because we close the book,” he said.

“And some vows still echo louder than silence.”

Meher sat frozen, the words ringing louder in her chest than in her ears.

She shut the laptop slowly—like it might explode if she moved too fast.

Her fingers trembled. Her breath hitched.

Even the familiar buzz of the city outside her office window felt far away now.

It was just a business interview. A man speaking in vague metaphors.

It could be anything.

It should be nothing.

But her gut—the same gut that once made her run in the middle of the night with nothing but a baby in her belly—was awake again.

It whispered like an old friend.

He’s searching. He’s getting close.

And this time, he..........

"No"......It's my overthinking. Meher assured herself.

Veer’s POV – Seeing Meher

She stood at the school gate wrapped in a long coat, the wind tugging gently at her scarf.

Her hair was tied back, her face calm but alert.

But it wasn’t just her face that stole his breath.

She looked more beautiful than he remembered—

not like a delicate flower, but like a woman carved from fire and poetry.

Her body had changed.

Softer in some places, stronger in others.

She moved with the grace of a woman who had carried pain and still walked like she owned the road beneath her.

The curve of her waist, the quiet sway of her steps—everything about her was untouchable now.

Not because she was afraid.

But because she had learned to protect herself like a queen without a throne.

Veer could barely breathe.

She was no longer the girl he forced into love.

She was a woman the world should kneel for.

Just as Veer was trying to steady his breath, the school gate opened.

And then he saw him.

A little boy came running out—

Backpack swinging, shoes slightly loose, hair bouncing with every step.

He looked around for just a second…

Then spotted Meher, and his face lit up like morning sunlight breaking through clouds.

“Mom!” he shouted.

The word hit Veer like a punch.

The boy ran straight into her arms, laughing, and Meher knelt down to hug him tightly.

Veer couldn’t move.

He couldn’t think.

He just stared.

Because the boy…

looked like him.

The sharp jawline.

The shape of his lips.

The way he held his shoulders when he stood still—it was him.

But then, the boy looked up—

And that’s when Veer saw something that didn’t belong to him at all.

His eyes.

They were Meher’s.

Big. Deep. Soft.

Full of questions and feelings too big for such a small body.

Framed with long lashes that blinked slowly, like they noticed everything.

Veer felt something tighten in his chest.

His hands curled into fists in his pockets.

This was his son.

The one he had never held.

The one he didn’t even know existed until now.

And yet… this boy wasn’t missing anything.

He looked happy.

He looked safe.

He looked loved.

By Meher.

And Veer knew in that moment—

He had lost years he could never take back.

But this time, he wouldn't fight to claim what was his.

He would fight to deserve it.

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