Happy Anniversary

The hotel room was quiet except for the distant hum of the city beyond the hills. Meera sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the golden flicker of the candle on the nightstand. It was meant to be a romantic gesture, yet it felt like a cruel irony now. Across from her, Kabir leaned against the window, arms crossed, his gaze locked on the dark horizon. Neither of them spoke. They had spoken too much already—too many accusations, too many bitter words that had chipped away at what they once were.

This was their seventh wedding anniversary. And yet, they weren’t even sure if they would still be together to celebrate it.

“I don’t know why we’re even here,” Kabir muttered, his voice laced with exhaustion.

Meera swallowed hard. “Because we used to love this place,” she said, almost pleading. “Because we thought maybe—just maybe—coming back here would remind us of who we were before everything went wrong.”

Kabir exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Before you betrayed me.”

Her heart clenched. She had no defense—there was no excuse for what she had done. A meaningless one-night stand with her colleague, a mistake born out of loneliness, anger, and something she couldn’t even explain to herself. But did that one terrible night erase the years of love between them?

“You weren’t perfect either,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “A month before our wedding… your ex.”

Kabir turned to her, his jaw tightening. “For the last time, Meera, nothing happened that night. She came to say goodbye. That was it. You’ve held onto this for seven years, and it was never true.”

Meera looked down at her hands. “And yet, when I look at you, I still see her shadow.”

They were trapped in this endless cycle of hurt, of anger and regret. No matter how hard they tried to talk, they only ended up further apart.

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Kabir sighed. “I need some air.” Without waiting for a response, he walked to the balcony and stepped outside.

Meera hesitated, then followed him.

The air was crisp, carrying the scent of jasmine and earth from the surrounding woods. And there, hanging in the velvet sky, was the full moon—silver and luminous, casting a gentle glow over everything.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They just stood there, side by side, staring at the moon as if it held the answers to all their unspoken questions.

Then, softly, Kabir began to hum.

Meera’s breath hitched. It was Mausam Pyar Ka, their song—the song that had played in the background of their long drives, their stolen moments of love, and the quiet nights when words weren’t needed, only music.

“Mausam pyaar ka, rang badalte rahe…”

His voice was rough, filled with emotion, yet gentle—like a caress against her wounded heart.

Meera turned to him, her throat tightening. And then, without thinking, she joined in.

“Yun hi chalta rahe, Tere mere…Pyar ka caarvaan…”

Their voices melted into the night, weaving a bridge between their broken hearts.

As they sang, something shifted. The years of love they had built, the memories they had shared, the laughter, the dreams—they weren’t gone. They had only been buried beneath their pain. And now, standing under the full moon, singing their song, those memories surfaced again, wrapping around them like an unbreakable thread.

Kabir’s eyes softened, and Meera saw something in them she hadn’t seen in a long time: love. Pure, unwavering love.

She reached for his hand, and he didn’t pull away. Instead, he pulled her closer.

Their voices faltered, replaced by the steady rhythm of their hearts.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, tears shining in her eyes.

“You never lost me,” he murmured. “We just lost our way.”

His fingers traced the curve of her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. Slowly, gently, he kissed her—soft at first, then deeper, as if pouring all the love they had almost forgotten into that one moment.

When they finally pulled away, the clock inside the room struck midnight.

Kabir smiled, his forehead resting against hers. “Happy anniversary, Meera.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, but this time, it wasn’t out of sadness.

“Happy anniversary, Kabir.”

And just like that, they knew—they had found their way back to each other.

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