The verdict didn't come that day.
I learned that justice rarely arrives with a dramatic slam—it creeps in quietly, piece by piece, until one day you realize the weight has shifted.
We walked out of the courthouse together.
Not rushing.
Not hiding.
Just walking.
The cameras followed, but they felt distant now, like background noise to a life that was finally returning to its own rhythm.
Riyan stopped at the bottom of the steps.
"Car's here," he said.
I shook my head gently. "Not yet."
He looked at me, surprised.
"I need a minute," I said. "In the open."
Arjun smiled faintly. "I'll give you two that."
He moved ahead, phone already buzzing in his hand, leaving space without making it awkward.
The city breathed around us.
People passed by—strangers who didn't know my name, my past, or the way forgetting had once hollowed me out.
And that felt… good.
"You were incredible in there," Riyan said quietly.
I laughed under my breath. "I was terrified."
"You didn't show it."
"That's because I finally understood something," I replied. "Fear isn't what makes you weak. Silence is."
He nodded slowly.
"I owe you more than I can say."
I turned to face him fully.
"I'm not collecting debts," I said. "I'm setting terms."
Something in his expression shifted—not defensive, not controlling.
Attentive.
"I won't be managed," I continued. "Not by your family. Not by the world. Not by you."
He didn't interrupt.
"I choose what I remember," I said. "I choose what I forgive. And I choose how this marriage exists—if it exists at all."
The words hung between us, honest and unsoftened.
Riyan exhaled slowly.
"Then here are my terms," he said. "No secrets. No decisions about you without you. And if you ever decide to walk away… I won't stop you."
I studied his face.
Not the billionaire.
Not the man who once hated me.
The man who had learned—too late, but genuinely—to listen.
"That's a start," I said.
A small smile touched his lips. "I was hoping you'd say that."
---
That evening, Arjun joined us at the apartment.
No guards in the room.
No strategy boards.
Just three cups of tea on a low table.
"I forgot how strange normal feels," Arjun said, stretching carefully. "No hiding. No codes."
"You'll get used to it," I replied.
He looked at me seriously.
"You saved me," he said. "Twice."
I shook my head. "You survived. That was the hard part."
He smiled, then glanced at Riyan.
"Don't mess this up," he added lightly.
Riyan snorted. "Noted."
---
Later, alone again, I stood by the window one last time that night.
The city lights looked softer now.
Less like witnesses.
More like possibilities.
My phone buzzed.
Not a threat.
Not a warning.
A notification from the court system:
NEXT HEARING SCHEDULED — EVIDENCE ACCEPTED
I closed my eyes briefly.
This wasn't the end.
But it was the point of no return.
Behind me, Riyan's voice was quiet.
"What happens now?"
I turned.
"Now," I said, feeling the truth settle calmly in my chest,
"we live without erasing parts of ourselves to make others comfortable."
He nodded.
And for the first time since everything began—
The future didn't feel like something to survive.
It felt like something I could finally choose.