28-02-2026, 09:48 PM
Chapter 141 – The First Days in Zurich & The First Night in Bangalore
Zurich, Switzerland – Day 1: Arrival & Mount Titlis
The plane touched down at Zurich Airport just as the late-afternoon sun dipped behind the snow-capped Alps. The air outside was sharp, crisp, carrying the scent of pine and distant snow. Vikram stepped off first, holding Mirnaa’s hand firmly as they walked through the terminal. She wore a simple wool coat he had bought her in Chennai, scarf wrapped tight, eyes wide at the sight of the mountains through the glass walls.
They took a private transfer to a cozy chalet hotel in Engelberg — wooden beams, stone fireplace, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the valley. The room smelled of cedar and fresh linen. A fire was already crackling in the hearth.
Mirnaa stood by the window, staring at the peaks.
“It’s… beautiful,” she whispered.
Vikram came up behind her, arms slipping around her waist.
“That’s why we’re here,” he said softly. “To breathe. To forget. To remember who we are — just you and me.”
She leaned back against him, but her fingers tightened on the windowsill.
“Why are you doing this for me?” she asked, voice small. “After everything… I don’t deserve it.”
Vikram turned her gently to face him.
“You do,” he said. “You’re my world. We came here to change things. Let it take its natural course. No pressure. No memories. Just us.”
She searched his face — desperate for any sign he was lying. Found none.
They spent the rest of the afternoon on the cable car ride to Mount Titlis. The world dropped away below them — green valleys turning to white snowfields, peaks rising like silent guardians. At the top, they stepped into a wonderland of snow. Vikram pulled her into a snowball fight — gentle, playful. Mirnaa laughed — the first real, unguarded laugh since the night Bharath left her on the bed. The sound surprised her. She stopped, hand over her mouth.
Vikram grinned.
“See? That’s the sound I missed.”
They sat in a small café at the summit — hot chocolate with whipped cream, steam curling between them. Mirnaa sipped slowly, eyes distant.
“I feel… out of place,” she admitted.
“Like I shouldn’t be here. Like I’m pretending to be someone I’m not.”
Vikram reached across the table, took her hand.
“You’re exactly who you should be. Right here. With me.”
Bangalore – Bharath & Manya – The Same Day
The registry office was small, air-conditioned, and quiet. Bharath stood in a simple white kurta, Manya in a cream saree, their daughter Priya held by Bharath’s mother (who had reluctantly agreed to witness).
The registrar’s words were brief, mechanical.
“Do you take this man…?”
“I do,” Bharath said — voice firm, eyes on Manya.
Manya smiled — soft, perfect.
“I do.”
Rings exchanged. Mangalasutra tied. Signatures. A quick photograph. Done.
Bharath beamed — he thought he had won the ultimate prize. Manya smiled back — internally smirking.
They returned to the family home. Evening came fast.
Bharath’s parents retired early, leaving the couple alone in the master bedroom — newly decorated with fresh flowers and a glass of milk on the nightstand.
Bharath closed the door. Turned to Manya — eyes dark with anticipation.
She stood by the bed, hands folded.
“Priya’s fussy tonight,” she said quietly.
“She won’t sleep without me. She would cry, we ae already lovers right no formalities, lets sleep seperately..”
Bharath exhaled — frustrated, but understanding.
“Okay. For her.”
He kissed her forehead — tender, patient.
Manya smiled sweetly.
“Soon,” she promised.
Zurich – Day 2: Lake Lucerne & Uneasiness
Lake Lucerne glittered under a pale winter sun. They took a boat ride — private, just the two of them. Vikram held her hand the entire time, pointing out castles on the hills, swans gliding past. Mirnaa leaned against him, watching the water.
They visited a chocolate factory afterward — warm, sweet-smelling rooms, conveyor belts of truffles, free samples. Mirnaa tasted a dark truffle, eyes lighting up.
“This is amazing,” she said.
Vikram watched her — heart swelling with love he hadn’t felt in months.
“You’re amazing,” he said.
She smiled — but it faded quickly.
Back at the hotel, she sat on the balcony, staring at the lake.
Swathi called to Vikram but, Mirna took it.. Vikram signaled to take it as e was slicing a bread
her voice bright through the phone.
“How’s Zurich? Krish misses you both.
*** regular talks *** one thing she understands is swathi is very much concerned about Vikram and they are good friends.
Tell Vikram he owes us dinner when you’re back.”
Mirnaa laughed softly — but her eyes were distant.
“Yeah… soon.”
She hung up. Vikram came out, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.
“What’s wrong?”
Mirnaa looked at him — voice small.
“I never did this for you. Never called you just to check how are you?
did i missed a lot I was always at the hospital. Always working. Swathi… she takes care of Krish like that. She’s attentive.
I wasn’t. I feel like I was never a good wife.”
Vikram knelt in front of her.
“You were yourself. That’s what I fell in love with. Your passion. Your dedication. You don’t have to be anyone else.”
She shook her head.
“I feel unfit for you. Like I don’t deserve this… this life.”
Vikram pulled her into his lap.
“You do. And I’m going to keep showing you until you believe it.”
She clung to him — night uneasiness growing, suppressive feelings of inadequacy rising like a tide.
Mirna rose from his lap, she felt like something stopped her may be a guilt..
Mirnaa stood near the window, arms wrapped around herself, looking out at the dark valley. Vikram came up behind her — close enough that she felt his body heat before he touched her.
“I think you are thinking too much.. your thoughts on something unwanted keeping yuo away from me away from who you are .. ” he said softly.
She didn’t turn.
“I want you to ignore it, im completely fine with everything.. i love you same way like we had years back nothing changed.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders — light, careful.
“That’s what I wanted you to feel.”
She turned then. Looked up at him — eyes shimmering in the firelight.
“I still feel… unfit sometimes. Like I don’t deserve this. Like I’m pretending.”
Vikram cupped her face gently.
“You’re not pretending. You’re remembering who we were before everything got twisted. Before Bharath. Before the lies. Just us.”
He leaned down — kissed her forehead. Then her eyelids. Then the corner of her mouth. Slow. Deliberate. Each kiss a quiet promise.
Mirnaa’s breath caught.
She lifted her arms — wrapped them around his neck.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Please hate me once, your unconditional love disturbing me more”
Vikram lifted her without a word — bridal carry, effortless, tender. She rested her head against his shoulder as he walked them to the bedroom. The chill outside pressed against the windows, but inside the room was warm — the bed already turned down, soft white linens, a single lamp glowing low.
He set her down gently on the edge of the mattress. Knelt in front of her — eye level.
“I’m not going to hate you.. instead let me love you more... i accept you for what you are..
he hinted he gonna have a sex.... I wont rush this,” he said. “I want you to feel every second. I want you to know — this is us. No one else. Just us.”
Mirnaa nodded — tears already gathering.
He started slow.
Unbuttoned her coat. Slid it off her shoulders. Kissed the hollow of her throat where her pulse fluttered. Unzipped her sweater — peeled it away. Kissed the top of each breast through her bra. Unhooked it — let it fall. Took one nipple into his mouth — gentle suction, tongue circling slowly. Mirnaa arched — soft gasp, fingers threading into his hair.
He moved lower — kissed her stomach, the faint bruises marked by bharath still fading on her ribs. Whispered against her skin:
Mirna tried to hide it due to shame...
“You’re beautiful. Every mark. Every scar. Every part of you. No matter i love you .. i accept you for what you are..”
He tugged her leggings down — kissed the inside of each thigh. Slid her panties away. Kissed her there — soft, reverent, tongue tracing her folds until she trembled and whispered his name like a prayer.
When she was shaking, ready, he stood. Undressed himself slowly — letting her watch. Shirt. Belt. Pants. Boxers. His erection thick, heavy, already leaking at the tip.
He climbed over her — careful, controlled. Settled between her thighs.
“Look at me,” he said.
She did — eyes glassy, tears slipping down her temples.
He entered her slowly — one long, smooth glide. Filling her completely. No rush. No force. Just deep, steady pressure. Mirnaa’s breath hitched — legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.
He moved — slow, rolling thrusts that dragged against every sensitive spot inside her. Each one deliberate. Each one saying: This is mine. You are mine. We are us.
Tears kept falling — not from pain, but from overwhelming feeling. Love. Relief. Release. She clung to him — nails in his back, face buried in his neck.
“I love you,” she whispered — broken, raw. “Only you.”
Vikram kissed her tears — slow, tender.
“I love you,” he answered. “Always. Only you.”
The room was cold outside the blankets, but their bodies burned. Heat radiated between them — skin slick with sweat, breath mingling, hearts pounding in sync. He rocked into her, deeper, slower, grinding against her clit with every thrust until she shattered,crying out his name, body convulsing, inner walls fluttering around him.
He followed moments later, burying himself deep, spilling inside her with a low groan, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.
They stayed like that — joined, trembling, breathing hard. He didn’t pull out right away. Just kissed her, slow, lazy kisses that tasted of salt and love. When he finally withdrew, he gathered her close,chest to chest, legs tangled.
“No more doubts,” he whispered against her hair. “No more feeling unfit. You’re mine. That’s all that matters.”
Mirnaa nodded, tears still slipping — but she smiled against his skin.
“Only you,” she murmured.
Outside, the Alps stood silent under the stars.
Inside, they slept — wrapped in each other, finally home.
Bangalore – Bharath & Manya – Day 2
Zurich, Switzerland – Day 1: Arrival & Mount Titlis
The plane touched down at Zurich Airport just as the late-afternoon sun dipped behind the snow-capped Alps. The air outside was sharp, crisp, carrying the scent of pine and distant snow. Vikram stepped off first, holding Mirnaa’s hand firmly as they walked through the terminal. She wore a simple wool coat he had bought her in Chennai, scarf wrapped tight, eyes wide at the sight of the mountains through the glass walls.
They took a private transfer to a cozy chalet hotel in Engelberg — wooden beams, stone fireplace, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the valley. The room smelled of cedar and fresh linen. A fire was already crackling in the hearth.
Mirnaa stood by the window, staring at the peaks.
“It’s… beautiful,” she whispered.
Vikram came up behind her, arms slipping around her waist.
“That’s why we’re here,” he said softly. “To breathe. To forget. To remember who we are — just you and me.”
She leaned back against him, but her fingers tightened on the windowsill.
“Why are you doing this for me?” she asked, voice small. “After everything… I don’t deserve it.”
Vikram turned her gently to face him.
“You do,” he said. “You’re my world. We came here to change things. Let it take its natural course. No pressure. No memories. Just us.”
She searched his face — desperate for any sign he was lying. Found none.
They spent the rest of the afternoon on the cable car ride to Mount Titlis. The world dropped away below them — green valleys turning to white snowfields, peaks rising like silent guardians. At the top, they stepped into a wonderland of snow. Vikram pulled her into a snowball fight — gentle, playful. Mirnaa laughed — the first real, unguarded laugh since the night Bharath left her on the bed. The sound surprised her. She stopped, hand over her mouth.
Vikram grinned.
“See? That’s the sound I missed.”
They sat in a small café at the summit — hot chocolate with whipped cream, steam curling between them. Mirnaa sipped slowly, eyes distant.
“I feel… out of place,” she admitted.
“Like I shouldn’t be here. Like I’m pretending to be someone I’m not.”
Vikram reached across the table, took her hand.
“You’re exactly who you should be. Right here. With me.”
Bangalore – Bharath & Manya – The Same Day
The registry office was small, air-conditioned, and quiet. Bharath stood in a simple white kurta, Manya in a cream saree, their daughter Priya held by Bharath’s mother (who had reluctantly agreed to witness).
The registrar’s words were brief, mechanical.
“Do you take this man…?”
“I do,” Bharath said — voice firm, eyes on Manya.
Manya smiled — soft, perfect.
“I do.”
Rings exchanged. Mangalasutra tied. Signatures. A quick photograph. Done.
Bharath beamed — he thought he had won the ultimate prize. Manya smiled back — internally smirking.
They returned to the family home. Evening came fast.
Bharath’s parents retired early, leaving the couple alone in the master bedroom — newly decorated with fresh flowers and a glass of milk on the nightstand.
Bharath closed the door. Turned to Manya — eyes dark with anticipation.
She stood by the bed, hands folded.
“Priya’s fussy tonight,” she said quietly.
“She won’t sleep without me. She would cry, we ae already lovers right no formalities, lets sleep seperately..”
Bharath exhaled — frustrated, but understanding.
“Okay. For her.”
He kissed her forehead — tender, patient.
Manya smiled sweetly.
“Soon,” she promised.
Zurich – Day 2: Lake Lucerne & Uneasiness
Lake Lucerne glittered under a pale winter sun. They took a boat ride — private, just the two of them. Vikram held her hand the entire time, pointing out castles on the hills, swans gliding past. Mirnaa leaned against him, watching the water.
They visited a chocolate factory afterward — warm, sweet-smelling rooms, conveyor belts of truffles, free samples. Mirnaa tasted a dark truffle, eyes lighting up.
“This is amazing,” she said.
Vikram watched her — heart swelling with love he hadn’t felt in months.
“You’re amazing,” he said.
She smiled — but it faded quickly.
Back at the hotel, she sat on the balcony, staring at the lake.
Swathi called to Vikram but, Mirna took it.. Vikram signaled to take it as e was slicing a bread
her voice bright through the phone.
“How’s Zurich? Krish misses you both.
*** regular talks *** one thing she understands is swathi is very much concerned about Vikram and they are good friends.
Tell Vikram he owes us dinner when you’re back.”
Mirnaa laughed softly — but her eyes were distant.
“Yeah… soon.”
She hung up. Vikram came out, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.
“What’s wrong?”
Mirnaa looked at him — voice small.
“I never did this for you. Never called you just to check how are you?
did i missed a lot I was always at the hospital. Always working. Swathi… she takes care of Krish like that. She’s attentive.
I wasn’t. I feel like I was never a good wife.”
Vikram knelt in front of her.
“You were yourself. That’s what I fell in love with. Your passion. Your dedication. You don’t have to be anyone else.”
She shook her head.
“I feel unfit for you. Like I don’t deserve this… this life.”
Vikram pulled her into his lap.
“You do. And I’m going to keep showing you until you believe it.”
She clung to him — night uneasiness growing, suppressive feelings of inadequacy rising like a tide.
Mirna rose from his lap, she felt like something stopped her may be a guilt..
Mirnaa stood near the window, arms wrapped around herself, looking out at the dark valley. Vikram came up behind her — close enough that she felt his body heat before he touched her.
“I think you are thinking too much.. your thoughts on something unwanted keeping yuo away from me away from who you are .. ” he said softly.
She didn’t turn.
“I want you to ignore it, im completely fine with everything.. i love you same way like we had years back nothing changed.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders — light, careful.
“That’s what I wanted you to feel.”
She turned then. Looked up at him — eyes shimmering in the firelight.
“I still feel… unfit sometimes. Like I don’t deserve this. Like I’m pretending.”
Vikram cupped her face gently.
“You’re not pretending. You’re remembering who we were before everything got twisted. Before Bharath. Before the lies. Just us.”
He leaned down — kissed her forehead. Then her eyelids. Then the corner of her mouth. Slow. Deliberate. Each kiss a quiet promise.
Mirnaa’s breath caught.
She lifted her arms — wrapped them around his neck.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Please hate me once, your unconditional love disturbing me more”
Vikram lifted her without a word — bridal carry, effortless, tender. She rested her head against his shoulder as he walked them to the bedroom. The chill outside pressed against the windows, but inside the room was warm — the bed already turned down, soft white linens, a single lamp glowing low.
He set her down gently on the edge of the mattress. Knelt in front of her — eye level.
“I’m not going to hate you.. instead let me love you more... i accept you for what you are..
he hinted he gonna have a sex.... I wont rush this,” he said. “I want you to feel every second. I want you to know — this is us. No one else. Just us.”
Mirnaa nodded — tears already gathering.
He started slow.
Unbuttoned her coat. Slid it off her shoulders. Kissed the hollow of her throat where her pulse fluttered. Unzipped her sweater — peeled it away. Kissed the top of each breast through her bra. Unhooked it — let it fall. Took one nipple into his mouth — gentle suction, tongue circling slowly. Mirnaa arched — soft gasp, fingers threading into his hair.
He moved lower — kissed her stomach, the faint bruises marked by bharath still fading on her ribs. Whispered against her skin:
Mirna tried to hide it due to shame...
“You’re beautiful. Every mark. Every scar. Every part of you. No matter i love you .. i accept you for what you are..”
He tugged her leggings down — kissed the inside of each thigh. Slid her panties away. Kissed her there — soft, reverent, tongue tracing her folds until she trembled and whispered his name like a prayer.
When she was shaking, ready, he stood. Undressed himself slowly — letting her watch. Shirt. Belt. Pants. Boxers. His erection thick, heavy, already leaking at the tip.
He climbed over her — careful, controlled. Settled between her thighs.
“Look at me,” he said.
She did — eyes glassy, tears slipping down her temples.
He entered her slowly — one long, smooth glide. Filling her completely. No rush. No force. Just deep, steady pressure. Mirnaa’s breath hitched — legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.
He moved — slow, rolling thrusts that dragged against every sensitive spot inside her. Each one deliberate. Each one saying: This is mine. You are mine. We are us.
Tears kept falling — not from pain, but from overwhelming feeling. Love. Relief. Release. She clung to him — nails in his back, face buried in his neck.
“I love you,” she whispered — broken, raw. “Only you.”
Vikram kissed her tears — slow, tender.
“I love you,” he answered. “Always. Only you.”
The room was cold outside the blankets, but their bodies burned. Heat radiated between them — skin slick with sweat, breath mingling, hearts pounding in sync. He rocked into her, deeper, slower, grinding against her clit with every thrust until she shattered,crying out his name, body convulsing, inner walls fluttering around him.
He followed moments later, burying himself deep, spilling inside her with a low groan, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.
They stayed like that — joined, trembling, breathing hard. He didn’t pull out right away. Just kissed her, slow, lazy kisses that tasted of salt and love. When he finally withdrew, he gathered her close,chest to chest, legs tangled.
“No more doubts,” he whispered against her hair. “No more feeling unfit. You’re mine. That’s all that matters.”
Mirnaa nodded, tears still slipping — but she smiled against his skin.
“Only you,” she murmured.
Outside, the Alps stood silent under the stars.
Inside, they slept — wrapped in each other, finally home.
Bangalore – Bharath & Manya – Day 2
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