Amara's POV:
The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped out, heart thundering like I was running late for something I didn't even understand. Vihaan's voice still echoed in my ears — "Please hurry up."There was no fear in it this time, but something else. Something deeper.
Outside, the city shimmered beneath the fading daylight. His driver stood waiting beside the car. "Miss Ama?" he asked, opening the door before I could speak.
The ride cut through familiar streets, yet everything looked different — like the world was holding its breath. My reflection in the window looked oddly calm, but my fingers fidgeted with the ring I always wore on my chain — my mother's. I didn't even realize I was holding it until the car slowed down.
When it stopped, I looked up — and my breath caught.
We were at that place.The hill café. The one Vihaan always teased about — "terrible coffee, perfect sky."The sun was melting into gold over the horizon, and the wind carried that faint scent of pine and rain-soaked earth.
I stepped out slowly, my heels crunching against the gravel.The café looked almost deserted, except for one figure standing near the cliff edge, hands in pockets, white shirt half-rolled, gray trousers. Looking effortlessly handsome and mine, my— Vihaan.
He turned when he heard my footsteps. The light hit his face just right — warm, alive, and achingly familiar.
"Vihaan," I called, my voice a mix of confusion and relief. "You scared me. What is this?"
He smiled — not his teasing one, but the quiet kind that always made my heart still."Do you remember what you said the night you woke up in the hospital?"
I frowned, a soft laugh escaping. "I said a lot that night."
He took a step forward, closer to the light. "You said peace isn't about forgetting the pain — it's about knowing who stands with you through it."
I froze. I didn't even remember those words until he said them.
He came closer, the wind brushing against us, the last light of day painting everything gold."You've stood through every storm, Ama," he said softly. "And I know you'll say you didn't have a choice. But you did. You chose to stay. You chose me."
My eyes burned, but I couldn't look away.
Vihaan exhaled, his voice breaking slightly. "I don't have speeches or perfect words. Just this—"
He dropped to one knee.
Time stopped. The sun, the wind, the trembling in my chest — all suspended in that single moment.
He opened a small velvet box. Inside was a ring — simple, silver, with a faint engraving of a heartbeat running around it. My breath hitched when I realized it matched the one on his wrist chain.
"I don't promise you perfection," he said, looking up at me. "Just a lifetime of trying. A lifetime of standing where you can always find me."
"So, Miss Amara Salvatore, would you like to get a bigger name, such as 'Mrs. Amara Vihaan Salvatore Mickelson," He said, his eyes glistening.
The world went quiet — like even the wind was waiting.
I stepped forward, tears slipping free before I could stop them. My voice came out trembling, half laugh, half sob."It's a bit long name, but I can adjust."
He indicated towards his ear with one hand, and then motioned that he didn't listen.
"Yes, yes, yes," I said
He smiled — that slow, disarming one — and slid the ring onto my finger.
And when he stood, I fell into his arms, the kind of embrace that didn't need words.The world seemed to pause — even the wind softened around us.Below, the valley shimmered in orange and gold, the fading sun painting everything in warmth and quiet light.
Vihaan tilted his head slightly, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair away from my face. His touch lingered, gentle and unsure, as if he was memorizing the moment.His breath mingled with mine, his voice barely a whisper. "You have no idea what you do to me."
Before I could speak, his lips found mine — hesitant at first, then deepening into something that felt both fragile and infinite. It wasn't rushed or perfect, just real — the kind of kiss that said everything words couldn't.
When we finally parted, I realized I was still holding his coat, knuckles white, heart unsteady.He rested his forehead against mine, smiling softly. "We should probably eat before I forget I'm human."
I laughed — shaky, breathless — and nodded. "Dinner first. The rest of forever later."
He smiled wider, fingers brushing against mine again as he said, "Fair deal, Mrs. Almost-Mickelson."
For once, there were no battles left to fight.Just peace. Just him.Just us.
Later that evening, the candles on our dinner table flickered softly, casting golden halos across his face. The restaurant wasn't extravagant — just quiet, tucked away on a hilltop, overlooking a city that finally felt at peace with us.
Vihaan poured me some water, his eyes still carrying that same glow from earlier. I was tracing the ring on my finger when he spoke, leaning slightly closer.
"So," he began, his voice teasingly casual, "have you thought about it yet?"
"Thought about what?" I asked, smiling, though my heart was still trying to steady itself.
He set his glass down and met my eyes."Our wedding," he said. "Do you want it to be… Indian style? You know — the whole seven vows around the fire, colors, music, and chaos that lasts a week? Or do you prefer something quieter, Western style — vows in white, under the open sky?"
I laughed softly, caught off guard. "You're already planning it?"
He shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. "When it comes to you, I plan everything."
I looked at him for a moment, imagining both — the sacred fire lighting his eyes, and the soft wind of an open-sky ceremony brushing our vows. Then I reached across the table, intertwining my fingers with his.
"Maybe," I said softly, "we'll do a bit of both. You, me — the chaos, the calm. Everything that made us us."
He grinned, eyes warm. "Perfect. A wedding like us — unpredictable, beautiful, and worth every second."
And as our laughter melted into the night, I realized — the world that once felt like a battlefield now looked a lot like home.
After dinner, he dropped me home, saying he wanted to see me a little more as his girlfriend before I officially became his wife.When the car stopped, I turned to say goodbye, but he didn't answer — he just reached out and caught my hand before I could open the door.
"Can I get one kiss from my girlfriend?" he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes soft.
I raised an eyebrow. "Are you sulking right now? You're such a sass."
He just pouted harder, and I couldn't help but laugh. Leaning forward, I cupped his face in both hands and kissed him — slow, sweet, and full of everything we hadn't said out loud.
When I pulled back, he stayed still for a moment, eyes closed, smiling like he'd just been given the world.
"Thanks, my future wife," he murmured.
I got out of the car, still feeling the warmth of his kiss lingering like a secret, when I saw Jia standing at the front door — one hand on the frame, leaning casually, that mocking little smile playing on her lips.
"Someone looks happy," she said, raising an eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes, but the smile wouldn't leave my face. Behind me, Vihaan gave her a small, polite nod — no words, no warmth. He still couldn't look at her the same way, not after everything with Albert. I'd tried to talk to him about it a few times, but the conversation always ended halfway — like some wounds still refused to heal.