One year later.

Saisha's pov:

The sun was gentle this morning, as if it knew today needed softness.

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my pastel pink saree—my favorite one, delicate with silver detailing and tiny mirror work on the borders. It was the first saree I had bought with my own money, and I chose it for today — not to show off, but to remind myself of where I started. Over the saree, I gently slipped into the black graduation gown my college gave us for the ceremony. Somehow, the weight of that robe felt like everything I had carried and conquered in these past few years.

A year ago, I was overwhelmed by the idea of Paris, scared of the world beyond the gates of my village. Today, I had travelled across cities and studios, capturing stories with my lens—shooting lead heroines of prime-time serials, working with couples for dreamy pre-wedding shoots,baby photo shoots, even getting featured in a niche photography magazine for a candid wedding in Jaipur. My portfolio had grown, and so had I.

Not just as a photographer.
But as Saisha Mishra.

A girl who once didn't even know how to hold a DSLR, now stood behind it, confidently telling others how to find their light.

And still, through every rise and stumble, he was there.

"You're going to crease your saree if you keep tugging at it like that," a familiar voice chuckled.

I turned.

There stood Pranu, my Pranay, in a crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled just enough to show off those arms I liked to lean on. His hair was tousled, eyes shining with that boyish charm that never failed to make me smile.

Without a word, he walked over and crouched down in front of me. With those careful fingers, he began setting my saree pleats under the robe, making sure nothing showed awkwardly from the edges.

"There," he said, rising to his feet. "Perfect. Just like you."

I smiled, still holding onto the warmth of his touch. But what made my heart clench was what he said next.

"I'm so proud of you, Gold Medalist Saisha Mishra. You made it. You really did."

I felt a lump form in my throat.

He kissed my forehead and whispered, "Your hard work paid off, Aishu. You deserve this."

Campus was buzzing with excitement. Everyone was dressed in black gowns and square hats, hugging, taking selfies, sharing final laughs and teary-eyed goodbyes.

My heart fluttered as I reunited with Meghna, Tanya, and Ritu — my dearest friends.

"Madam Paris-return, gold medalist aur now celebrity photographer!" Tanya teased, pulling me into a hug.

"Don't forget best outgoing student!" Meghna added with a grin.

I gasped. "Wait, what?"

They looked at each other and smirked.
"Oops," Ritu giggled. "Spoiler alert."

When my name was called, the auditorium felt both massive and intimate.

"Saisha Mishra – Gold Medalist, Department of Photography."

I walked across the stage, heart racing, the robe brushing against my saree with every step. I took my degree, and a beautifully crafted medal was gently placed around my neck.

As I turned, I heard another announcement:

"Best Outgoing Student – Saisha Mishra."

I blinked.

Wait, what?

I turned to the dignitary handing me the second certificate and shield. She smiled at me with pride.

As I returned to my seat, I scanned the audience and there he was—Pranu, camera in hand, clapping like a proud father, husband, best friend, and everything in between. He mouthed, "That's my girl."

Later that evening, we sat in a cozy rooftop restaurant and there was fairy lights glowing, soft instrumental music playing in the background.

"You know," I said, swirling my mocktail, "a three years ago I didn't even dream of this."

He raised an eyebrow. "And now?"

I smiled. "Now, I want more. Not in a greedy way. But in a 'what else can I explore?' way."

He leaned closer. "That's what life with you feels like, Aishu. An adventure I never want to stop being part of."

I reached into my handbag and pulled out a tiny envelope. "Here," I said.

He opened it to find a keychain with our logo etched—"RuhLens Creations"—the name of our upcoming event-photography brand.

His eyes softened. "You kept the name."

"Of course," I whispered. "Musafir-e-Ruh. That's what we were. Lost... and then found. In each other."

He took my hand across the table.

And under the moonlight of a starlit Chennai evening, I realized that every chapter had led us here.

Not just as a couple.
But as dreamers. Doers. Partners. Soulmates.

Tomorrow, we would work on building our business.

But tonight,we celebrated a journey.
From a girl behind walls... to a woman walking red carpets of her own making.

Saisha Mishra. Gold medalist. Photographer. Woman.

And forever, his.

Hello, my dear fam! Your love and support means everything. Please vote, follow, and share your thoughts! Follow me on Instagram for exclusive spoiler updates!

Please do follow to get further updates of chapter.

Love you all <3