Raghu sat under the gulmohar tree, its fiery red petals scattered around him like tiny flames. The rain had stopped, leaving behind a scent of wet earth that lingered in the air. His heart was heavy, yet oddly lighter after reading the letters. For the first time, he understood his father in ways he never could before.

As his thoughts meandered, they settled on Asha, the one woman who had managed to etch her name onto his heart. Asha was a force of nature; wild yet serene, a woman whose beauty was as striking as her spirit. Her hair was long and dark, cascading like a waterfall over her shoulders. Her large black eyes, framed by thick lashes, held a spark of mischief, but it was her smile that lingered in Raghu’s mind. It wasn’t just beautiful; it was warm, the kind of smile that felt like home.

Asha had come into Raghu’s life unexpectedly. She was a professor at the university where Raghu worked as a researcher. They’d first met during a conference, where she stood at the podium delivering her presentation with an air of quiet confidence. Raghu had been captivated, not just by her beauty but by the passion with which she spoke.

Their conversations had begun as casual exchanges in the university café, growing deeper with every meeting. Asha had...