Night — Pratap Singh Mansion
Kiaan sat on his bed, clutching the photo of his mother, Kiara. The lamp beside him cast a warm glow, but it couldn't fill the emptiness in his chest.
"Mumma…" he whispered, voice shaky. "I… I miss you so much. I… I never got to… to really… play with you… or have you tell me stories… or… or hug me when I was scared."
His small hands trembled as he held the frame. Tears welled up, but he refused to let them fall.
"And now… now Papa… he's bringing… bringing that… that lady here!" His words stumbled over themselves, anger flaring through the grief. "She… she acts all nice… but she's… she's not you! She can't be you! And I… I… I don't want her! I won't!"
He slammed his tiny fists against the bed. "I… I will never… never… ever call her my mom! Never!"
His voice cracked as he leaned closer to the photo, pressing his forehead against it. "You… you're the only mom I have! Papa… he… he took you away! And now he… he wants me to… to… to like someone else?! I… I can't! I won't! I don't care if he yells… I don't care if he's mad!"
Kiaan's chest heaved, small sobs breaking through now. "I… I will… I'll… I'll find a way to bring you back! I don't know how… but I'll do it! I… I'll bring you back, Mumma! You'll see! I promise!"
He hugged the photo tightly, tears streaming freely now, small shoulders shaking. "I… I won't forget you… never! Not even for a second! I… I… I love you so much! Please… wait for me…"
For a moment, the room was silent except for his quiet sniffles. The boy pressed his face to the glass again, whispering to her like she could hear him.
"I… I'll make everything right, Mumma. I'll bring you back… just you… only you!"
Even in his small, trembling body, determination glimmered. He may have been nine, but his heart was larger than the house itself—full of love, grief, and the stubborn courage of a child who refused to let go.
Night — Yuvaan's Room, Pratap Singh Villa
Bhoomi knocked lightly before stepping in, her soft footsteps barely making a sound on the polished floor. Yuvaan sat by the desk, the dim lamp casting half his face in shadow. Papers lay scattered around, but his mind was elsewhere—on Kiaan, on Kiara, on the storm of anger and grief that filled his home.
"Beta…" Bhoomi began gently, closing the door behind her. "Can we… talk for a moment?"
Yuvaan didn't look up. His fingers drummed absently on the desk. "If it's about Kiaan…" he said, voice low, tight. "I've already raised my hand on him today. I… I can't…"
Bhoomi moved closer, resting a hand lightly on his shoulder. "You can't… but you also want what's best for him. I know, Yuvaan. I know your heart."
He finally met her gaze, dark eyes clouded with frustration and sorrow. "He… he refuses! He doesn't want her—Rani! He pushes her away every time. And yet… I promised Kiara. I promised her… that he would have a mother. And I… I can't fail her."
Bhoomi nodded, voice soft but firm. "I understand. And you won't, beta. But you must remember—Kiaan is only nine. A child's mind doesn't see the world as we do. He measures love in small, simple ways. He sees his mother in Rani, and… he doesn't recognize her as safe yet. He's afraid, and he's grieving. You can't force him, Yuvaan. Not yet."
Yuvaan ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. "He's so stubborn. Like… like he's built from a piece of me and a piece of Kiara. I see Kiara in him… her courage… her fire… and yet, he refuses to bend even for me. I… I feel like I've failed her, failed him, failed myself."
Bhoomi's eyes softened. She pulled a chair beside him and sat, leaning in. "No, beta. You haven't failed. Children this age… they're learning to understand the world, to understand loss, to understand who they can trust. Kiaan is angry. He's testing you because he wants certainty—he wants to know you'll never let him down again. And you… you can't punish him for that. You need patience, guidance… love, even when he won't see it."
Yuvaan's jaw tightened, a shadow crossing his face. "Patience, yes… but for how long? My heart aches every time he calls her… that woman… 'not my mother.' I… I want to make him accept her, Mom. I promised Kiara—he must have a mother!"
Bhoomi's gaze softened, but there was firmness in her tone. "Beta, that will happen in time. But you must understand something else. Will you… will you ever accept Rani as your wife?"
Yuvaan froze, the weight of the question pressing against him. He looked down at his hands, voice low, resolute, filled with longing.
"Never… Mom. Never. My heart… it belongs to Kiara. Only Kiara. I will honor her, love her memory, and I will do everything to give Kiaan what she would have wanted—but that doesn't mean I can love anyone else. No one can take her place."
Bhoomi's lips pressed into a thin line, sighing softly. "Then you must tread carefully, Yuvaan. Love, grief, and responsibility… all tangled together. Kiaan will feel everything you do, and he will follow your heart—if you lead him wisely."
Yuvaan looked up at her, eyes shadowed but determined. "I will… Mom. I have to. For him. For her. For both of them."
Bhoomi reached out, placing a comforting hand over his. "And you will, beta. You will. One step at a time. One small moment at a time."
Yuvaan leaned back, silent, letting the weight of the words settle. For now, he had clarity. He loved Kiara, and he would honor her memory. He would protect Kiaan. And perhaps, in time, they could both heal…