Stella loved the evening walks with him. She always held his elbow as they strolled together, her steps falling in rhythm with his. It felt like the rest of the world faded away when they talked, laughed, and looked into each other’s eyes. No matter how far they walked, it never felt tiring.
Every evening, as they passed the little flower shop, he would stop and buy her a single flower. No occasion, no reason—just because he wanted to make her smile. No one had ever done that for her before. He knew everything about her, even the messy parts, and still, he loved her for who she was.
There was a tiny pizzeria they always went to after work. It became their little hideaway. It wasn’t just about the food; it was about sitting across from each other, talking about nothing and everything. She remembered the times they crammed into public taxis, sitting so close their arms touched, traveling to and fro just because they didn’t want to leave each other.
The elevator was their secret world. She could still feel the thrill of those stolen kisses the moment the doors closed. The way he grabbed her waist and pulled her toward him left her breathless. Those moments, wild and unguarded, made her fall even harder for him.
On Valentine’s Day, they took a boat ride at sunset. The sky turned shades of gold and pink, and she was radiant in her red top and jeans—perfect for the occasion. The sun reflected on the water, casting golden ripples around them. He sat close to her, his arm draped over her shoulder, as if declaring to the world, “She’s mine.”
She had never felt more loved, more cherished. That Valentine’s Day was the best of her life, because of him, his presence, and the way he loved her so completely. She cried that day, overwhelmed by how deeply she loved him.
She still thought about the Diwali night when she wore a light blue silk saree, her hair loose over her shoulders. He couldn’t stop staring at her, completely oblivious to the crowd around them. That look—full of admiration and pride—made her blush.
The ring he gave her was still on her finger. He didn’t ask her a question, and she didn’t need to answer. They already knew. When he slipped the ring onto her hand and kissed it afterward, it was his quiet way of saying, “We belong to each other, always.”
Now, on another Valentine’s Day, Stella sat by the window, staring at the city lights. He wasn’t with her, but she didn’t feel lonely. She closed her eyes, imagining him next to her, and whispered softly, as if he could hear her from wherever he was:
“My dearest Amul Baby,
Every day, I know you are there, thinking of me, loving me.
I don’t need reminders. I don’t need reassurances.
I know my place in your heart is irreplaceable.
I know you have fought the world to make a home for me there.
And I’m not leaving,
not now, not ever.
I love you.
Always, always yours,
Stella.
By Deepa Perumal
Deepa Perumal is a Management professional, and a passionate advocate for women’s empowerment. As a career mentor, entrepreneur, and multilingual author, she shares her insights through blogging and writing features on history, world cultures, travelogues and memoirs. Contact her at deepabperumal@gmail.com
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