Love in school is innocent.
But love that survives after school?
That's when you know it's real.
After our results, college talks began.
Everyone was choosing paths — engineering, MBBS, B.Com, fashion designing…
I wanted Computer Science.
Kayra, as expected, aimed for medicine.
Different cities. Different colleges.
And for the first time, the fear came back.
Distance.
We had faced rejection, misunderstanding, even jealousy — but this?
This felt bigger.
One evening, we sat on her terrace, legs swinging off the ledge, stars spread above like spilled sugar.
"I might have to go to Lucknow," she said quietly.
I nodded. "I know."
"What if we drift apart?"
I turned to her. "We won't."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because if we've come this far… through everything… there's nothing distance can do that we haven't already survived."
She rested her head on my shoulder.
"I don't want a future where you're a memory."
"You won't be," I whispered, "You'll be my wife."
We made a promise that night.
No matter how far life pulled us, we'd always pull each other closer.
We set rules.
One video call a day, no matter how tired
One visit every two months, minimum
Full honesty. Zero hiding. If it hurts, say it
It wasn't easy.
Some days she'd cry because her exams were draining her.
Some days I'd rage because I felt left out of her world.
But every time we fell, we picked each other up.
Years passed.
She became Dr. Kayra Sharma.
I became a developer for a startup — working remotely, saving up for a ring.
And one rainy evening — almost exactly like the one when I first confessed…
I proposed.
On the same street.
In the same place.
Under the same clouds.
Only this time, she said yes without hesitation.
A year later, we got married.
Simple wedding. Close family. Lots of crying. Too much food.
And exactly seven months later...
We held our baby boy for the first time.
Tiny hands.
Curious eyes.
Biggest smile.
We named him Ayaan — because it meant "gift of God."
He was ours.
A piece of our journey. Our fights, hugs, tears, laughter — now breathing in our arms.
We took a trip to Japan to celebrate our new chapter.
Kayra had always wanted to see cherry blossoms.
I had always wanted to see her happy.
So I made both happen.
We visited Tokyo, rode bullet trains, tried sushi (she hated it), wore traditional yukatas, and laughed like teenagers again.
And under the pink blossoms, Ayaan asleep in a stroller, I kissed her forehead and said…
"We made it."
She looked up and smiled, "Yeah... we really did."
[End of Chapter 7]