Seven years had passed since the day Diya and Raj first locked eyes across the university lawn. Now, their world was filled with the chatter of little voices, the scent of freshly baked bread, and the kind of love that only deepens with time.

Asha, now seven, stood on a stool in the bakery beside her mother, flour smudged across her nose, giggling as she tried to pipe frosting onto cupcakes. Her tiny fingers trembled with focus.