A veil of fog had settled over the riverside.
The world felt strangely still, as if time itself had paused.
Jesmine stood near the stone steps, her figure half-hidden in the mist.
She turned—
Yash.
There were no questions in her eyes.
No shock.
Only a faint, knowing smile.
"You came," Jesmine said softly.
"I was always going to," Yash replied, his voice calm—almost too calm.
For a few seconds, they simply looked at each other.
It felt as though months of fear, pain, and longing were quietly dissolving between them.
"At your house…?" Yash asked gently.
Jesmine paused before answering.
"It's over. There's nothing left now."
There was sadness in her voice, yes—
but strangely, no weight. No struggle.
Yash nodded.
"Mine too."
No explanations were needed.
Together, they began walking down the old stone steps.
The moon shimmered on the river's surface, its reflection trembling in the dark water.
The wind felt colder than it should have—sharp, almost unreal.
Yet neither of them seemed to mind.
Side by side, they stood at the edge of the river, wrapped in fog, silence, and something that felt beyond fear.
As if the world they had known was already far behind them.