He was a man of cold words and quieter wounds,
a celebrated author who stitched stories for the world,
but never believed in the tale of love himself.
To the world, he was distant-
To his loved ones, he was a quiet refuge.
Returning to India after years,
he never imagined fate would greet him
with the eyes of a girl he once competed with-Nila.
But the Nila he remembered was gone.
In her place stood a woman-
a widow, a mother, a soul who had survived more
than she ever deserved to endure.
Her smile carried cracks,
her voice held strength,
and her heart... was still aching
for a love that once failed her.
Their parents tied them in a bond neither sought-
an arranged marriage between strangers
with a shared past and separate scars.
She didn't want another husband-
she wanted a father for her daughter.
He didn't believe in love-
but her daughter called him "Dad"
and something inside him softened.
Would he ever hold space in his heart
for a little girl with wide eyes and louder questions?
Would he ever learn that love
isn't loud, or perfect,
but sometimes quiet... and healing?
Or would Nila remain
a soul still longing,
still waiting
for someone to choose her,
not out of duty-
but out of love?
#4 in dad's love 🏅