Chapter 30

The house hadn't felt this alive in years.

Diwali preparations were in full swing, and the once-quiet halls were now bustling with activity. The faint scent of marigolds and diyas filled the air, mingling with the aroma of sweets Tara had painstakingly prepared over the past few days.

I stood in the living room, watching the staff put up the final decorations as laughter echoed from the kitchen where Tara was working.

For a moment, I closed my eyes, and the vivid memory of my parents flashed before me. Diwali had been their favorite festival. My mother would hum as she decorated the house, her laughter filling every corner, while my father meticulously arranged the diyas outside.

The memory brought a bittersweet ache to my chest, but this time, it wasn't overwhelming. I felt at peace, standing here, surrounded by the warmth Tara had brought into my life.

"Mom, Dad," I murmured under my breath, "I'm happy now. I'm in love, and it's time to let go of the void I've carried since you left. I'll always miss you, but it's time to leave the pain behind—for Tara."

I opened my eyes, smiling softly. Wherever they were, I hoped they were happy too.

Stepping outside, I found Tara crouched by the front door, adding the final touches to her rangoli. The intricate design was a riot of colors—deep blues, bright reds, and golden yellows blending seamlessly to create a masterpiece.

I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture.

"Tara," I called, and she looked up, her face glowing with pride.

"It's beautiful," I said. "But you've made it so good that no one will want to ruin it."

She laughed, standing up and brushing the dust off her hands. "Just tell the staff to be careful," she teased.

"I'll do more than that," I replied, turning to the staff nearby. "Everyone, no one is to step on this rangoli. Go around it. I mean it."

Tara chuckled as she walked past me, but I caught the pleased smile on her face.

The day was going perfectly until my phone buzzed with an urgent call from Naman. I stepped into the study to take it.

"Sir," he said, his voice tense. "There's news about Sameer."

My body tensed immediately. "What about him?"

"He escaped from jail," Naman said. "He was trying to reach Mrs. Mehra, but we intercepted him before he could get close. He's in our custody now. What do you want us to do?"

The thought of Sameer coming anywhere near Tara sent a wave of cold fury through me. "Send me the location," I said curtly.

"But, sir—"

"I said send me the location," I snapped.

I made a quick excuse to Tara about needing to handle some urgent business and left, my mind focused solely on what I had to do.

When I arrived, Sameer was already restrained, his smug expression faltering when he saw me.

"You thought you could come near my wife?" I growled, stepping closer. "You thought you could threaten her?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't give him the chance. My fists met their mark, the anger I'd been holding back pouring into every blow.

by that was still not enough I grabbed his head from behind and banged his head on the wall and kept doing it , it was a rare moment where I let the hidden part a more darker and dangerous part of me come out

By the time I was done, Sameer was barely conscious barely alive, his face bloodied and bruised. I leaned down, my voice low and cold. "You will never come near Tara again. If I hear even a whisper of your name, you won't live to regret it."

I turned to Naman, wiping my hands on a cloth. "Lock him away. Make sure he disappears forever."

As I was leaving, Naman made a passing comment. "Sir, today's Dhanteras. It's customary to buy gold, isn't it?"

His words lingered in my mind, and I found myself stopping at a jeweler on the way home. Among the sparkling displays, an antique gold choker caught my eye. Its intricate design was elegant yet bold, something I knew would suit Tara perfectly.

I bought it without hesitation, the thought of her wearing it bringing a smile to my face.

When I returned home, Tara was in the living room, sorting through decorations. She looked up as I entered, her expression curious when she saw the small box in my hand.

"What's that?" she asked, setting the decorations aside.

I sat beside her, opening the box to reveal the choker. "A gift for Dhanteras," I said simply.

Her eyes widened as she stared at the necklace. "Veer, this is too much," she said, shaking her head.

"It's not," I said firmly. "You deserve it."

Before she could argue further, she reached behind her and pulled out a small box of her own.

"I got you something too," she said, her voice shy.

Inside was a gold chain and a ring—simple, but thoughtful.

I took the ring, slipping it onto my finger, but it didn't fit. Tara's face fell, her eyes filling with tears.

"I'm so stupid," she said, her voice trembling. "I can't even get your size right. And you always give me such beautiful gifts..."

"Tara," I said gently, tilting her chin up so she would look at me. "Don't cry. This is perfect."

"No, it's not," she insisted, harshly wiping at her eyes.

"It is," I said firmly. I slid the ring onto the chain and fastened it around my neck. "See? Now it's even closer to me."

She stared at me for a moment before a small smile broke through her tears. "You always know what to say," she murmured.

I pulled her into a hug, holding her close. "You don't have to be perfect, Tara. What matters is that it's from you. That makes it priceless."

She rested her head against my chest, her arms wrapping around me.

And as we sat there, surrounded by the preparations for Diwali, I couldn't help but feel grateful. For her, for us, for the life we were building together—one gift, one moment, one day at a time.