Chandigarh, India..

"Our heart's beat as one"

Ruhi's lips curved into a mocking smile as she looked at Vidhant, his face a mix of rage and disbelief. Her chuckle was low, almost inaudible, but it hit him like a slap.

"Oh my, my, Vidhant," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "When I needed you the most, where were you? Hiding, as always. A coward who couldn't even fight for the woman you claimed to love. And your precious mother and darling sister? Bravo to them—they did a spectacular job keeping you at a safe, comfortable distance from the truth. Didn’t they?"

Vidhant’s jaw clenched, his fists balled at his sides as his fury simmered just below the surface. But Ruhi was unshaken. If anything, she thrived on his anger, her words cutting deeper.

"I am their mother, Vidhant Vadhera," she declared, stepping closer, her eyes locked with his. "Not you, not your manipulative family, and no power on this earth can take that right away from me. You think you’ve won by keeping me out of their lives? No. You just delayed the inevitable."

Her voice, firm and unwavering, echoed through the room. She straightened her posture, her confidence unyielding. "They’re my children. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. And I will not let you or anyone else rewrite that fact. You’ve had your time, Vidhant, but now it’s my turn."

Vidhant glared at her, his rage boiling over, but Ruhi stood her ground. She wasn’t the woman he had known years ago. This Ruhi was unbreakable, determined, and ready to fight for what was hers.

Ruhi's smirk faltered for a moment as Vidhant’s words sank in. Her heart skipped a beat as his grip on her waist tightened, pulling her closer. She was caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone, his mockery replaced with something darker—something resolute. His eyes bore into hers, challenging her in a way that made her pulse quicken.

"Don't provoke me to be weak, Vidhant," Ruhi repeated, her voice shaking slightly but still defiant. "And yes, we haven’t divorced yet. I am still your wife," she added, regaining her composure, smirking once more as she played her hand.

Vidhant’s jaw tightened, his emotions a volatile mix of fury and something he couldn’t quite name. The word wife struck him like a lightning bolt—infuriating yet strangely comforting. His rage clouded his logic, but beneath it, a warmth flickered faintly, something he hadn’t felt in years.

"Then we’ll proceed with our marital rituals," he said, his tone low and dangerous as he took a deliberate step closer, obliterating the distance between them.

Ruhi’s smirk disappeared entirely as his proximity sent a shiver down her spine. Her breathing hitched when his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His closeness, his dominance, threw her off balance in ways she hadn’t anticipated.

"If you’re still my wife," he murmured, his voice dripping with challenge, "and want to play the part, then we’ll get married again tomorrow. Let’s make it official. Then you can have the kids, Ruhi. I won’t stop you."

His smirk mirrored hers from earlier, but there was a ruthlessness in his eyes that made her falter. "But," he continued, his tone soft but laced with menace, "you’ll leave behind your identity, your ambitions, your so-called freedom. You’ll become my wife, Ruhi. Entirely mine. And trust me, I won’t be as generous as I was the first time."

The silence between them crackled with tension. Ruhi’s confidence wavered as she processed his words. She had expected anger, even threats—but not this. This calculated, manipulative proposal had shaken her resolve.

For a moment, neither spoke. Their breaths mingled, and the room seemed to shrink around them. Ruhi searched for words, but Vidhant’s smirk only deepened as he saw the hesitation in her eyes. He had played his card well, and he knew it.

The atmosphere crackled with tension, their emotions clashing like fire and ice. Vidhant’s jaw clenched as he listened to Ruhi’s sharp words, each one a dagger to his pride.

"You’re a coward and will always be," Ruhi said, her smirk returning. "I’ll marry you again, Vidhant, but I won’t leave my career, nor my identity. This isn’t about the kids; it’s about your fragile, selfish ego." She leaned in closer, her smirk deepening, and pressed a kiss to his cheek—a deliberate taunt meant to provoke him.

It worked.

In that moment, the thin thread of control Vidhant had been holding onto snapped. His eyes darkened, his breathing quickened, and without a second thought, he grabbed Ruhi by the wrist, pulling her closer.

"You’ve always known how to push my buttons, Ruhi," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. Before she could react, his lips crashed onto hers in a fierce, punishing kiss.

The kiss wasn’t tender or forgiving—it was raw, fueled by years of suppressed emotions, anger, and an undeniable passion that neither of them could deny. Ruhi stiffened at first, caught off guard by the sudden intensity, but her defiance melted into the heat of the moment. She found herself responding, her hands instinctively clutching at his shirt, pulling him closer despite the turmoil in her mind.

Vidhant’s grip on her waist tightened as he poured everything into the kiss—his rage, his heartbreak, and the lingering desire he’d buried deep within him. Ruhi matched his intensity, her emotions a whirlwind of guilt, defiance, and longing.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads pressed together as they stared into each other’s eyes. The room seemed to spin around them, their world reduced to the storm they had just unleashed.

"Don’t test me, Ruhi," Vidhant warned, his voice barely above a whisper but carrying the weight of his emotions. "You can’t have it all. Not without consequences."

Ruhi’s eyes narrowed, her breath coming in short gasps. "And you can’t control me, Vidhant. Not anymore."

The tension between them hung heavy in the air, a storm waiting to break once again. Neither was willing to back down, their battle far from over.

The tension that had filled the room moments ago dissipated, replaced by a quiet intimacy neither had expected. Ruhi’s head rested against Vidhant’s chest, her breathing slow and uneven as the exhaustion overtook her. For the first time in years, her defenses seemed to drop completely, and for a fleeting moment, she appeared vulnerable—something Vidhant hadn’t seen in a long time.

"Ruhanika, are you okay?" Vidhant’s voice softened, a hint of concern replacing the sharp edge of their earlier exchange.

"I just need some sleep, Vidhant," Ruhi murmured weakly. "I don’t have the energy to fight anymore." She pushed against his chest lightly, trying to steady herself, but her legs wobbled beneath her.

Without a second thought, Vidhant swept her into his arms, holding her close as she let out a faint protest. "Sleep, Ruhanika. You need energy to fight with me tomorrow," he said with a wry smile, though his voice carried an undertone of genuine care.

As he approached the bed, his eyes fell on Rishu and Reet, sprawled out peacefully, their small faces glowing with innocence. Vidhant’s heart clenched. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb them. With a sigh, he changed course, heading toward the couch instead.

He carefully lowered Ruhi onto the couch, but as soon as he tried to step away, her fingers curled around his shirt, her eyes fluttering open for a brief moment. "Sleep, Vidhant," she whispered hoarsely. "You need energy too... to fight with me."

Her unexpected words startled him, and he found himself chuckling softly despite the lingering tension between them. "You never give up, do you?" he murmured.

Without thinking much further, he shifted onto the couch, pulling her close. Ruhi instinctively nestled into his chest, her arms wrapping loosely around his neck as she buried her face against him.

"Goodnight, husband," she whispered, her voice barely audible as sleep claimed her.

Vidhant froze for a moment, his heart racing at the unexpected term of endearment. Slowly, he relaxed, allowing a small, reluctant smile to form on his lips. "Goodnight, Ruhanika," he whispered back, brushing a light kiss against her forehead.

As the night deepened, the two fell into a quiet slumber, holding onto each other in a way that felt strangely familiar, yet entirely new. It wasn’t an end to their battles, but for now, it was a truce. A moment of peace in the midst of their storm.