Avneet's trembling fingers dialed Ishan's number, desperation coloring her voice. The first call went unanswered, but she persisted, and this time, Ishan picked up. "What?" he grunted.

"Ishu," Avneet's voice wavered, "I want to apologize to Shubman."

"Good," Ishan replied curtly. Avneet pleaded, "Please, yāta malā madata karā." (Translation: Please help me with it.)

His tone softened slightly. "Baraṁ sāṅga. Mī tumhālā madata karēna, parantu punhā kadhīhī cūka punhā karū nakā." (Translation: Fine, tell me. I will help you, but never ever repeat the mistake again.)

Avneet vowed, "Mī punhā asē kadhīca karaṇāra nāhī, Ishu. Mī āja yā bāgēta tyācī māphī māgaṇyācē ṭharavalē āhē. Tumhī tyālā paṭavūna tithē āṇū śakatā kā?" (Translation: I will never ever do that again, Ishu. I have decided to apologize to him today in this garden. Can you convince him and bring him there?)

"Ṭhīka āhē," Ishan agreed. "Malā phakta vēḷa āṇi ṭhikāṇa message dyā." (Translation: Okay, just message me the time and location.)

Avneet disconnected the call, her heart racing. She made her way to the garden, anticipation and anxiety warring within her. Meanwhile, Ishan headed to Shahneel's house, knocking on the door. Shahneel opened it, concern etching her features.

"Shahneel Di, where is Shub?" Ishan asked urgently.

"He's in the guest room," Shahneel replied. Ishan nodded, slipping inside. He roused Shubman, who groggily washed his face. "What?"

"Come with me," Ishan said, determination in his eyes. Shubman complied, changing into fresh clothes, and followed Ishan to the garden Avneet had mentioned.

The garden was dimly lit, shadows dancing among the foliage. Avneet's voice reached Shubman, raw and apologetic. "I am extremely sorry, Shubman. Sometimes my words have no control, and I know how much I've disturbed you this time. Please forgive me, baby. You know what? I never regret marrying you; it was my best decision. Will you forgive me?"

Shubman stood rooted, emotions swirling. As the lights flickered on, Avneet materialized before him. "Shub?"

"Yeah?" Shubman's voice was barely a whisper. Avneet began to apologize, but he silenced her with a kiss. When they broke apart, she searched his eyes. "You forgive me?"

"Any doubt?" Shubman's lips curved into a smile. Avneet shook her head, pulling him into a tight hug. "I'll never miss your events again, Neet."

"It's okay," Avneet murmured against his chest. "I was impulsive. Your career matters too." They walked out of the park, and there, Ishan conversed animatedly with Avneet's best friend, Krupa.

Shubman approached Ishan. "Ishu, let's go?"

"Why me?" Ishan teased. "You both are husband and wife."

Avneet seized Shubman's hand, dragging him toward her car. She handed him the keys. "Drive, baby."

Shubman started the car, the engine purring to life. As they drove toward the Gill Mansion, forgiveness hung in the air, weaving a fragile bridge between their wounded hearts.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Gill mansion. Natasha, dialed his number with excitement. "Shubman," she said, her voice filled with anticipation, "we're celebrating Agastya's birthday tonight. You and Avneet must come!" Shubman's reply was swift, "Yes, babhi! We'll be there."

Avneet, overheard the conversation. "What's happening?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Shubman leaned against the doorframe, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Agastya's birthday," he explained. "They didn't tell us earlier, but Ishan spilled the secret. It's still early—only 7:00 PM."

Avneet nodded, her mind already racing. She needed the perfect outfit. In the closet area, she deliberated. Her fingers brushed against fabrics, seeking inspiration. Finally, she settled on a black dress adorned with delicate floral patterns. White and beige flowers danced against the dark canvas, their green leaves adding vibrancy. The dress had short sleeves, its flared skirt playful and carefree. A thin belt cinched her waist, emphasizing her silhouette.

Bracelets adorned her wrist, each one a memory—a gift from Shubman, a token of love. Her long hair cascaded down her back, natural waves framing her face. Hoop earrings complemented the ensemble, their gentle sway echoing her excitement. Black heels completed the look, and she applied minimal makeup—a touch of blush, a hint of lip gloss.

And there it was—the delicate gold mangalsutra, a symbol of their union. It nestled against her skin, a silent promise.

Shubman, too, prepared for the occasion. Black pants, a crisp white T-shirt, and a snug black jacket. His easy smile matched Avneet's anticipation. As they walked hand in hand to their car, the evening air held promise.

The drive to the Pandya Mansion was comfortable. Agastya awaited them. His small feet carried him toward Shubman, and he exclaimed, "Chachu!"

Vamika chimed in, "My chachu!" Shubman knelt, arms open. "Vamika, come here." She rushed into his embrace, and Agastya followed suit. Avneet watched, her heart swelling at their innocent affection.

Anushka enveloped Avneet in a warm hug. "How are you?" she asked, genuine concern in her eyes. Avneet nodded, still marveling at how this ICT family had embraced her.

Ishan, the mischievous, appeared. He tugged at Avneet's hair playfully. "Where's your husband?" he teased.

Avneet raised an eyebrow. "Why should I tell you?"

"Because," Ishan declared, "you're my best friend, and he's my best friend too." 

Avneet gestured toward the cozy couch where Shubman sat. Vamika, her head resting on his chest, chattered animatedly. Shubman caught Avneet's eye and signaled her over.

She settled beside him, their fingers entwined. Vamika looked up, her eyes wide. "Who al you?

Shubman grinned. "This is your chachi."

Vamika clapped her hands. "Chachi!"

Avneet leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Vamika's forehead. In this warm circle of love, she knew she belonged.

The Pandya mansion buzzed with anticipation. Virat, stood near the entrance. His eyes followed Vamika, as she flitted around the room. "Oi," he called out, "she is my daughter."

Vamika glanced at Virat, her eyes wide. "Vami," he beckoned, "come here." But she shook her head, her cuteness irresistible. "Chachu," she declared, pointing toward Shubman.

Virat chuckled. "I am your father, Vami," he insisted.

Vamika remained steadfast. "He is my chachu, papa," she countered. Avneet couldn't contain her laughter. "Virat bhai," she teased, "I guess your daughter prefers my husband over you."

Anushka joined in. "True!" she agreed, her eyes twinkling.

Shubman leaned down to Vamika's level. "Come with me and chachi," he whispered. "We'll leave papa behind."

He gently handed Vamika to Avneet, who cradled the little girl in her arms. Virat, not one to be outdone, issued a playful threat. "I'll remove you from the team!" he declared, chasing Shubman around the room.

Shubman, quick on his feet, darted behind Avneet. He wrapped his arms around her protectively, using her as a shield. Virat's voice echoed, "Stop hiding behind your wife, Shubman Gill!"

Avneet's laughter filled the air, and Anushka grinned. Virat eventually settled onto the couch. Vamika, ever thoughtful, fetched a bottle of water. "Papa," she said, her tiny voice earnest, "hele you go. Have some watel."

Virat accepted the bottle, taking a grateful sip. "Thank you, Vami," he replied.

Meanwhile, Samaira, curious and wide-eyed, approached Avneet. "Who are you?" she asked, her innocence endearing.

Avneet lifted Samaira, cradling her gently. "I am your Shub chachu's wife," she said. Shubman leaned in, adding, "Not just wife—my dearest wife."

A blush crept across Avneet's cheeks. Samaira, ever observant, pointed it out. "Why are your cheeks red?" she inquired.

Avneet shot Shubman a playful glare. "What is your name?" she asked Samaira.

"Samira," Samaira corrected herself. "No, no—it's Samira. Arre, call me Sammy."

Shubman couldn't resist. He playfully tweaked Samaira's nose. "Sammy," he declared, "your name is Samaira."

Samaira pondered. "What shall I call you?" she wondered aloud.

Avneet smiled. "Call me 'chachi,'" she suggested.

Samaira nodded, her eyes bright. But then Avneet noticed Agastya hugging her leg. She gently released Samaira, and Agastya, half-asleep, murmured, "Mumma."

Avneet scooped him up, cradling his head against her shoulder. Natasha approached. "Sorry," she said softly, "maybe he was asleep."

Avneet shook her head. "No problem, babhi," she assured her.

As the kids grew sleepier, the party wound down. Avneet and Shubman returned home. They changed into comfortable clothes, and Avneet settled down a little distance away from Shubman. But he had other plans—he pulled her close, and they drifted into peaceful slumber, wrapped in love's embrace.