Mahi's POV;
She stared at the screen long after she pressed send.
The message looked calm. Polite. Almost distant.
Thank you for today. Everything you did after I had a panic attack—it was very professional help. Thank you for everything.
But her heart was anything but calm.
Deep down, one question kept screaming—
Why didn't you come that day, Nikhil?
If he had come… she would have believed him.
That truth hurt the most.
She turned toward Roohi, who sat beside her on the bed, listening quietly—no interruptions, no judgments. Just presence.
"I sent that message in anger," Mahi said softly. "Not because he helped me… but because he didn't fight for us back then."
Roohi waited.
"Five years ago, I kept expecting him to show up," Mahi continued. "I thought he'd knock on my door and say it was all a setup. That Khushi planned everything."
Her fingers curled into the bedsheet.
"But he stayed silent."
Roohi frowned gently. "You left too, Mahi."
"I know," Mahi whispered. "But I left because I thought his silence was a choice."
She took a deep breath and began from the very beginning.
"From the day Khushi met him, something felt off. She was always around. Always watching. Saying small things—tiny comments that didn't mean much alone, but together…"
Mahi shook her head. "She'd say, 'Nikhil is charming,' or 'Girls fall for him easily.' She made it sound casual. Normal."
Roohi nodded slowly.
"And then there were the rumors," Mahi said. "People calling him a playboy. Saying he wasn't serious about anyone."
Her voice cracked. "I didn't believe them. I trusted him. But when that night happened—the party, the kiss, him leaving with her—it all collided at once."
She wiped her eyes.
"I wasn't doubting his love," Mahi said. "I was doubting whether love was enough to stop temptation."
Roohi squeezed her hand.
"I waited for him," Mahi confessed. "I really did. I thought he'd come running. Because the Nikhil I loved wouldn't let a lie end us."
Her voice broke.
"But he didn't."
Silence filled the room.
"So I walked away," she said quietly. "Because if he could stay silent while I was breaking, then maybe I mattered less than I thought."
Roohi spoke gently. "And now?"
Mahi looked at her phone.
"Now I hide behind professionalism," she said. "Because if I let myself be honest… I'll ask him the one question that still scares me."
Roohi whispered, "Which is?"
Mahi swallowed.
"Why didn't you come, Nikhil—
when one conversation would have saved everything?"
She closed her eyes.
"I believed in him," she said softly.
"It just wasn't enough to survive silence."
That night ended in silence—but work didn't wait for emotions.
Group Message – Priyan
Tomorrow, Mahi, Roohi, and Nikhil will be presenting before the court.
This case comes first.
We have another big case lined up, but full focus on this one.
Mahi read the message carefully.
Court.
Nikhil.
Together.
She took a slow breath and locked her phone. Feelings could wait. This was law. This was duty.
The Next Day — Courtroom
Mahi stood steady, files perfectly arranged, her mind sharp. The courtroom murmured quietly, but her focus never wavered.
She fought the case brilliantly.
Every argument was crisp.
Every question was deliberate.
Every pause carried authority.
Nikhil sat beside her, listening intently.
For the first time in five years, his thoughts weren't trapped in the past.
He watched her—admired the calm strength in her voice, the way the courtroom responded when she spoke.
She's remarkable, he thought.
Then Urmila Singh was called to testify.
The room fell silent.
Her testimony was clear, honest, and impossible to ignore. The truth unfolded piece by piece.
The judge reviewed the evidence carefully.
"Based on the testimony and material presented, the court declares Nikhil Mehra not guilty."
Mahi closed her eyes briefly.
Justice.
"The court further sentences Mr. Mehra Sr. to life imprisonment."
A collective gasp rippled through the courtroom.
Roohi hugged Mahi tightly. "You did it," she whispered.
Nikhil stood still—relief washing over him slowly, heavily.
He turned to Mahi. "You handled that… incredibly well."
Priyan approached them, pride evident. "Excellent work, Mahi. This verdict wouldn't have been possible without you."
Back at the Office
The atmosphere was lighter now.
Laughter echoed across the floor, Roohi joked endlessly, files were tossed aside, and for a moment—everything felt normal.
Then Priyan clapped his hands.
"Mahi. Nikhil. My office."
They followed him inside.
Priyan smiled. "Today calls for a celebration."
He looked at both of them. "If you two hadn't presented Urmila Singh's testimony the way you did, this wouldn't have happened."
Then he added, almost cheerfully, "So tonight, the entire team is going to the club."
Mahi hesitated. Nikhil stiffened—but only for a second.
"No excuses," Priyan said lightly. "One night. Tomorrow, we move on to the next big case."
He stepped out and announced it to the team.
Cheers erupted. Plans were made. Music, laughter, excitement filled the office.
And soon, they were all on their way—
toward flashing lights, loud music, and a celebration meant to honor victory.
As Mahi and Nikhil walked side by side, neither of them realized—
This night wasn't just a celebration.
It was the beginning of a confrontation
they could no longer keep avoiding.