Saisha pov:

Tonight, the sky above Paris seemed to hold more stars than usual.

Maybe it was just my heart feeling too full. Maybe it was the magic of this city… or maybe it was the man beside me.

It’s our last night here.

I still can’t believe these six months passed so fast. Just yesterday, I was that small-town girl stepping into this foreign world with shaking hands and hopeful eyes. And now, I’ve not only survived, but flourished. I’ve earned around seven lakhs through this internship. It feels surreal. Me — Saisha Yadav , who never even dreamed of stepping out of her house, is now standing beneath the Eiffel Tower, with the love of her life beside her, and pride in her heart.

The photographer who mentored me here said, “You may be a fresher, but your instincts are sharp and your lens tells stories most professionals fail to capture. I’ll be watching your journey closely. And when you’re ready, we’ll work again.”

I remember I couldn’t stop smiling for hours.

This money… it’s not just mine. It’s ours. It’ll help us when we expand our business back in India. I already have plans forming in my mind — an event wing, better equipment, more hands on board. And I’ll be by Pranu’s side for it all.

But right now, we are just… here.

Under the glowing lattice of the Eiffel Tower, with the golden lights flickering every few minutes like fireflies caught in a net of dreams.

He’s standing behind the camera, adjusting settings, and I pose — twirling in the deep blue dress I bought just for tonight.

“Stop right there,” he calls out, half-laughing, half-smitten. “This one’s going in a frame the size of our bedroom wall.”

“It’s a good picture because the photographer’s in love with the model,” I teased.

He lowers the camera, looks at me like he’s memorizing every inch of my face.

“No. It’s a good picture because the model learned to love herself,” he said softly.

And just like that, I wanted to cry.

He held out his hand. I walked into it. He tucked my hair behind my ear, then pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“You’ve changed, Aishu,” he said, holding me close.

“I know,” I whispered. “But only in the best ways. And you—you gave me the world. I’ll never forget that.”

“We gave it to each other.”

We stood there, just soaking in the view. Not just of the Eiffel Tower, but of us. Of how far we’ve come. Of where we’re headed next.

“You ready to go home?” he asked after a while.

I nodded.
“Home isn’t a place anymore, Pranu. It’s wherever you are.”

He smiled, pulled me into a kiss—slow, sure, full of promises.

Tomorrow morning, we’ll fly back to India. And the day after, I have my final project pitch. Just in time, thanks to the delay caused by the missing external.

But tonight… tonight, I’ll take pictures with my heart.

So when we grow old, I’ll remember that once upon a time, under a Paris sky, we stood hand in hand - two souls who found the world in each other.

TWO DAYS LATER

Saisha pov:

The corridors of my college felt different today.

There was a strange silence between the usual chaos. Maybe it was just in my head—or in my heart. Because today is the last day.

My final project pitch is done. All those late nights, tears, giggles, and photo edits… it was all worth it. The professors nodded in appreciation, my mentor even gave me a warm smile and whispered, “Go set the world on fire, Saisha.”

I didn’t cry then.
But I think I might now.

After the pitch, I ran to my bag and pulled out the little things I had packed last night—chocolates wrapped in colored paper, small personalized keychains, and a few handwritten notes folded neatly. I had bought them from Paris, each chosen carefully for my friends.

“What is this?” Aayushi asked, unwrapping the tiny Eiffel Tower keychain.

“A bit of Paris for the people who made college feel like home,” I smiled.

“Awww, Saisha, you’ll make us cry!”

We all gathered in our usual corner, the one near the giant window on the third floor. The sunlight poured in like it knew this moment mattered.

Someone pulled out a slam book—you know, the ones we filled in school. It felt childish at first… but as we started writing in each other’s pages, it became something sacred.

“Best memory with Saisha?”
“The day she showed us her Paris photography for the first time!”

“Describe her in one word?”
“Sunshine with a camera.”

And when the book reached me, I stared at the question:
“Where do you see yourself in 5 years?”

I paused, then wrote softly:

“Doing what I love, with the man I love, building something that lasts—and maybe running around chasing a tiny version of Pranu.”

I looked up to see my friends smiling, some wiping tears, others still scribbling secrets into the pages.

“Group selfie?” someone suggested.

I set up the camera—of course—and just as the timer clicked down, we all yelled, “Last dayyyyy!” and laughed into the photo.

That frame will go beside my Paris ones.

I hugged each one of them tightly, whispered thank-yous, and promised to stay in touch.

As I walked out of the gates, the afternoon sun hit my face, and for the first time, I didn’t look back.

Because I didn’t have to.

College gave me a lot—education, freedom, friends… but more than anything, it gave me the courage to dream.

And now, I’m walking straight into that dream—with my camera slung over one shoulder and Pranu waiting at the gate with his arms wide open.

Pranay’s pov:

I waited outside the campus gate, leaning against the car, watching clusters of students walk out in groups—laughing, hugging, some in tears. The air was thick with nostalgia.

And then, I saw her.

Saisha.

Walking out with a bunch of chocolates in her hand, slam book tucked under her arm, eyes shimmering with unshed tears and the proudest smile I’ve ever seen.

She didn’t walk—she floated.

In that moment, I didn’t see the girl I married.
I saw the woman she had become.

Confident. Fierce. Glowing.

She spotted me and ran straight into my arms. Her bag dropped somewhere near my feet, but she didn’t care.

She clung to me tightly, burying her face into my chest, and I felt her shoulders shake. She was crying.

“Aishu?” I whispered, stroking her hair. “What happened?”

She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, still holding onto my shirt like she never wanted to let go.

“This was the last day, Pranu,” she said through her tears. “It’s over. I didn’t realize how much it would hurt to say goodbye. But more than that…” —she sniffled, taking a shaky breath— “I wouldn’t have even made it here if not for you.”

I cupped her face, brushing her tears away.

“I mean it,” she continued. “You took a girl who didn’t even know how to step out of her house without fear… and showed her a world full of colors. You didn’t just marry me, Pranu. You gave me wings. You let me fly.”

She smiled through her tears.
“You made me fall in love with the camera, the world, myself.”

My throat tightened.

I didn’t say anything for a moment—I just held her tighter.

“You did it, Aishu. You earned every bit of this. Paris. Your internship. This degree. All of it.”

“I didn't give you wings aishu,I just showed what you had.”

She leaned her forehead against mine.

“But I wouldn't have taken the first step if you hadn't held my hand.”

“And I’ll keep holding it,” I promised. “Through your first project, your first exhibition, our business expansion, everything that’s to come.”

She nodded, her eyes now sparkling more from hope than sorrow.

We got into the car. She rested her head on my shoulder, fingers laced with mine, heart finally at peace.

As we drove away from the campus, she whispered, “Let’s chase dreams now… together.”

And just like that, I realized—this was not an end.

It was a beginning.

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