Jealous Ram – A Heartwarming Ram & Priya Fan Fiction | Bade Acche Lagte Hain

Kapoor Industries hummed with its usual chaotic energy, a symphony of ringing phones, hurried footsteps, and the distant murmur of important conversations echoing through marble corridors.

Employees rushed past each other, files clutched to chests, while boardroom meetings spilled into every available conference space.

Priya Kapoor sat in her glass-walled cabin on the twenty-third floor, completely oblivious to the world outside her laptop screen. Her dark hair was pulled into a neat bun, a few stubborn strands escaping to frame her delicate face. She bit her lower lip in concentration, fingers flying across the keyboard as she revised the quarterly projections.

She barely noticed the soft knock on her door.

"May I come in?"

The voice was smooth. Confident. Strangely unfamiliar.

Priya looked up.

A tall man stood at her threshold, silhouetted against the bright corridor lights. He was around her age, late twenties or early thirties, with sharp features and an easy smile that seemed permanently etched onto his face. His navy blue suit was impeccably tailored, his tie perfectly knotted, his posture radiating the kind of self-assurance that came from years of corporate success.

"Yes, please," Priya said, rising from her chair.

He stepped inside, extending his hand.

"Hi. I'm Karan Malhotra. The new marketing consultant."

Recognition dawned on Priya's face. "Oh! Welcome to Kapoor Industries. I'm Priya Kapoor."

"I know exactly who you are." Karan's smile widened. "The entire marketing department has been singing your praises. They say you're the woman who single-handedly turned this company's branding around."

Priya laughed softly, shaking his hand. "I had help."

"Modest too," Karan observed. "That's rare in this industry."

Neither of them noticed the pair of eyes watching through the glass wall.

Ram Kapoor stood in the corridor, his six-foot-two frame perfectly still, his expression carefully neutral. He was the picture of corporate authority: a dark, tailored suit, a designer watch, and the unmistakable aura of a man who commanded billion-rupee empires.

But inside?

Something was twisting in his chest.

Something unfamiliar.

Something uncomfortable.

Why was he still standing there?

Why was he even looking?

It was just a handshake. A normal professional greeting. Nothing more.

Yet Ram couldn't tear his gaze away. He watched as Karan said something that made Priya laugh. He watched as Priya's eyes crinkled with genuine amusement. He watched as Karan's hand lingered a moment too long.

Ram's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Sir?"

Ram blinked. His personal assistant stood beside him, tablet in hand, looking slightly nervous.

"The board meeting is about to begin. Everyone's waiting."

"Right." Ram turned away, but not before giving Karan one final look, a long, assessing gaze that would have made lesser men uncomfortable. "Let's go."

The board meeting stretched on for nearly two hours.

Usually, Ram dominated these discussions. He was known for his razor-sharp questions, his relentless pursuit of detail, and his ability to dissect a proposal until nothing but truth remained.

Today, he barely spoke.

His mind kept wandering back to the cabin, back to that easy smile on Priya's face, back to the stranger who had no right to make her laugh like that.

"Sir?"

One of the senior directors cleared his throat.

"We need your final approval on the expansion proposal."

Ram looked up. Twelve pairs of eyes stared back at him.

He hadn't heard a single word.

"Approved," he said flatly.

The directors exchanged confused glances. Ram Kapoor never approved anything without thoroughly interrogating every clause, every figure, every possible risk.

Something was definitely wrong.

Meanwhile, Priya and Karan dove into their work with the enthusiasm of two professionals who genuinely loved what they did.

"Look at this," Karan said, pointing to a chart on Priya's screen. "If we restructure the campaign around emotional storytelling rather than product features, we could increase engagement by at least forty percent."

Priya studied the data, her brow furrowed. "That's ambitious."

"That's brilliant," Karan corrected, grinning.

Priya laughed. "Confident, aren't you?"

"Comes with the territory."

By lunchtime, Karan had already charmed half the office. He was naturally gregarious—the kind of person who remembered everyone's name, asked about their families, and somehow made even the grumpiest employees crack a smile.

That included Vikram.

Which automatically meant trouble.

Vikram Sharma was Ram's best friend and the company's COO, a man whose favorite hobby was teasing Ram about his very obvious, very intense love for his wife.

"Priya!"

She looked up from her laptop. Karan stood at her door, holding two steaming cups of coffee.

"I brought you coffee," he announced. "The good kind. Not that instant garbage from the break room."

Priya laughed, accepting the cup. "You didn't have to."

"I know." He sat across from her, leaning back casually. "But I wanted to."

The gesture was innocent. Thoughtful, even. In any other context, it would have been unremarkable.

Unfortunately, at that exact moment, Ram walked past.

And saw everything.

The coffee. The smile. The laughter. The way Karan leaned toward her, his body language open and easy.

Something dark and possessive twisted in Ram's gut.

He hated it.

Absolutely hated it.

Because he knew this feeling.

He recognized the tightness in his chest, the irrational irritation, the overwhelming urge to storm into the cabin, and what? Throw Karan out? Claim Priya as his own?

The thought made him pause.

Claim her?

Priya wasn't a possession. She wasn't a trophy. She was his wife, his partner, the love of his life.

But the jealousy whispered anyway.

That evening, Ram entered Priya's cabin without knocking.

His expression was too calm. The dangerous kind of calm that promised thunderstorms beneath the surface.

Priya looked up from her work and immediately tensed.

"Mr. Kapoor?"

"Hmm."

"Is everything okay?"

"Perfect."

Definitely not okay.

She knew him too well, knew every micro-expression, every subtle shift in his posture. The rigid set of his shoulders. The controlled stillness of his hands. The way he refused to meet her eyes.

Priya set down her pen. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Ram."

"Priya."

She folded her arms across her chest. A challenge. He mirrored her gesture instantly.

She narrowed her eyes.

He narrowed his eyes.

The staring contest continued, both of them refusing to back down.

Finally, Priya sighed, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "You're impossible."

Something flickered in Ram's eyes—almost a smile, but not quite.

Then Karan chose that moment to walk in.

Worst timing imaginable.

"Sorry to interrupt, Priya. I forgot to." He stopped abruptly, looking between them. The atmosphere in the room was strange. Heavy. Like walking into a room after a fight. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No," Priya said quickly.

"Yes," Ram said flatly.

They spoke simultaneously. Karan looked confused. Priya looked mortified. Ram looked unimpressed.

"Actually," Karan continued hesitantly, "I wanted to discuss tomorrow's client meeting. We should probably finalize the presentation."

"Oh, yes." Priya nodded gratefully. "I completely forgot."

"Perfect." Karan smiled. "We can stay back after office hours and go through everything."

Ram's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

Stay back? After office hours? Together?

No. Absolutely not.

Before Priya could respond, Ram's voice cut through the air like a blade. "No need."

Both of them turned to look at him.

"The presentation is already complete," Ram said smoothly.

Karan blinked. "But we haven't even"

"It is complete," Ram repeated, his tone brooking no argument. "Submit it to my office by 5 PM tomorrow."

Karan opened his mouth, then closed it. He nodded awkwardly. "Okay. Understood."

The moment he left, silence descended on the cabin.

Priya slowly turned to face Ram.

"Ram."

"Hmm."

"Was that really necessary?"

"What?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

Priya sighed, rubbing her temples. It was like dealing with a stubborn child.

"You're jealous," she said flatly.

Ram practically choked. "What?"

"You. Are. Jealous."

"I am not."

"You are."

"I am not."

"You are."

Ram stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Priya, I have a company to run."

"And apparently a consultant to monitor," she shot back.

His mouth opened. Then closed.

Because unfortunately...

She was right.

The next few days were... challenging.

Karan and Priya worked together constantly. Meetings. Presentations. Client calls. Business lunches. Each interaction seemed more extended than the last.

And Ram noticed everything.

Everything.

He noticed when Karan pulled out a chair for Priya.

He noticed that Karan praised her ideas with genuine enthusiasm.

He noticed when Karan's hand brushed hers while passing documents.

He noticed when Karan laughed at her jokes—laughed like she was the most fascinating person in the world.

And most painfully of all...

He noticed how comfortable Priya seemed around him.

Not because she liked Karan—Ram knew that was impossible. Priya's love was absolute and unwavering, like a lighthouse in a storm.

But because Priya was naturally warm. Naturally friendly. The kind of person who made everyone feel seen and valued.

Unfortunately, Ram's jealous brain wasn't interested in logic.

It saw a threat.

Everywhere.

Vikram noticed immediately, of course. He always did.

"You're jealous," he announced one morning, dropping into the chair across from Ram's desk.

Ram's eye twitched. "I'm not jealous."

"Please," Vikram snorted. "You've mentioned Karan's name seventeen times in the last hour."

"I have not."

"Eighteen now."

"Get out."

Vikram grinned, utterly unbothered. "You know what your problem is? You're too possessive."

"I'm not possessive."

"You absolutely are."

"Vikram"

"I'm just saying." Vikram held up his hands in mock surrender. "If Priya finds out you've been monitoring her like a hawk, you're sleeping on the couch for the next century."

Ram slumped back in his chair, all the fight draining out of him.

Because Vikram was right.

About everything.

That evening, Priya arrived home utterly exhausted.

The day had been endless—back-to-back meetings, a minor crisis with a vendor, and the never-ending parade of questions from Karan.

All she wanted was tea.

And peace.

Instead, she found Ram sitting in the living room.

Waiting.

That never ended well.

"Hi," she said cautiously.

"Hi."

"How was your day?"

"Fine."

"And yours?"

"Fine."

The answers were clipped. Short. Painfully formal.

This was the Ram she knew best, the Ram who retreated into ice-cold composure when something bothered him.

Priya set her bag down and sank into the armchair across from him.

Silence.

One minute.

Two.

Three.

Finally...

"How's Karan?"

There it was.

The real reason for this cold front.

Priya stared at him. Then laughed. Actually laughed out loud.

Ram looked deeply offended. "What's so funny?"

"You!" She shook her head. "You've been jealous for an entire week!"

"I have not."

"Ram."

"I haven't."

"Ram."

"Okay." He muttered it under his breath. "Maybe a little."

Priya burst into helpless laughter.

The confession clearly wounded his pride. But once he started, the floodgates opened.

"I don't like him," Ram admitted.

"Why?"

"He smiles too much."

Priya laughed harder. "That's not a crime!"

"It should be."

"Ram!"

"And he keeps touching you."

"Ram, we work together. Sometimes hands brush."

"I know."

"And he looks at you like that."

"How does he look at me?"

"Like," Ram gestured vaguely, his frustration mounting. "Like you're the only person in the room."

Priya's laughter softened. "And that bothers you?"

"Yes!"

"Even though I'm your wife?"

"Yes."

"Even though I love you?"

Ram fell silent.

The honesty hung between them—heavy, raw, completely unguarded.

Suddenly, Priya's smile faded.

Because she understood now.

This wasn't really about Karan.

It was about Ram.

About how much he loved her.

About how terrified he was of losing her.

And for the first time, she saw it clearly the vulnerability in his eyes. The same man who could handle billion-rupee deals without blinking, who intimidated entire boardrooms with a single glance, who commanded respect from everyone he met...

I was insecure about one thing.

Her.

Priya rose from her chair and crossed to him. She gently took his hand in hers, and Ram immediately intertwined their fingers—so naturally, so instinctively, like he'd been doing it his whole life.

"Look at me," she whispered.

He did.

"There is nobody else," she said firmly. "Do you understand?"

Silence. Then a small nod.

"No consultant."

Another nod.

"No client."

Another nod.

"No one."

Ram's eyes softened, the tension slowly melting from his shoulders.

Priya reached up to touch his face, her fingertips tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the slight roughness of his stubble, and the warmth of his skin.

"You know what I see?" she murmured. "I see the man who married me, even when his family disapproved. I see the man who stood beside me at every difficult moment. I see the man who loves so fiercely, so completely, that sometimes it scares him."

Ram swallowed hard.

"And I love that man," Priya continued, her voice trembling slightly. "I love him more than anything in this world."

For a long moment, Ram didn't speak. He simply held her gaze, his eyes glistening with emotion.

Then he pulled her into his arms.

Priya melted against him, her head resting in the crook of his neck. She felt his heartbeat—strong, steady, grounding.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair.

"For being jealous?"

"I don't know if I can help with that."

"For being... difficult."

Priya laughed softly. "You're always difficult, Mr. Kapoor."

"Only for you, Mrs. Kapoor."

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him. And in that moment, with the soft evening light streaming through the windows, Ram looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the universe.

He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. "I love you," he said. "I love you so much it terrifies me."

"I know." She smiled. "I love you too."

And then he kissed her.

It wasn't a hurried or demanding kiss. It was slow, deep, filled with all the longing and tenderness he'd been holding back for days. His lips moved against hers with devastating sweetness, memorizing every curve, every sigh.

Priya's hands found their way into his hair, tangling in the dark strands, pulling him closer.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless.

Ram rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. "Promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Don't leave me."

The vulnerability in his voice made her heart ache.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised. "Ever."

The next morning, Priya entered Kapoor Industries with a lightness in her step.

Ram's confession from the previous night still lingered in her mind—the vulnerability, the honesty, the overwhelming depth of his love.

For all his confidence and authority, there was something incredibly endearing about a jealous Ram Kapoor.

She stepped out of the elevator and headed toward her cabin, a small smile on her face.

Unfortunately, peace was not on today's agenda.

"Good morning, Priya!"

Karan materialized out of nowhere, bright and chipper as always.

"Good morning, Karan."

"I was waiting for you."

Priya raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"The client loved our presentation."

"That's great."

"And..." He grinned like a schoolboy who'd just discovered a secret. "We got the project. The entire thing."

Priya's face lit up with genuine excitement. "Really?"

"Really!"

Without thinking, Karan extended his hand for a celebratory high-five.

Priya laughed and returned it, the satisfying smack echoing through the empty corridor.

Neither of them noticed the familiar figure at the end of the hall.

Ram.

Of course.

Again.

The timing was simply tragic.

Vikram, standing beside him, watched the entire exchange. "Oh no," he muttered.

"What?" Ram's voice was dangerously calm.

"Saw that, did you?"

"It was a high-five."

"Exactly. A high-five. Innocent. Platonic. Completely."

Ram turned and walked away.

Vikram closed his eyes.

This was going to be a disaster.

By afternoon, the entire office could sense the shift.

Ram Kapoor was in one of his moods.

Nobody wanted to be the person who tested his patience. Employees spoke in hushed whispers. Meetings ended with uncomfortable speed. Even Vikram avoided unnecessary conversations.

Inside his corner office, Ram stared at his laptop without seeing it. Every few seconds, his attention drifted toward the glass wall that separated him from Priya's cabin.

He hated this.

Hated feeling possessive.

Hated feeling insecure.

Most of all, he hated the fact that Priya occupied every corner of his heart, every thought, every breath.

A soft knock interrupted his spiraling.

"Come in," he said, not looking up.

The door opened. He knew who it was before she even spoke—knew it from the lightness of her footsteps, the faint scent of her perfume.

"Ram."

He finally looked up.

Priya stood before him, arms folded, expression unreadable. One look at her and he knew she'd already figured out what was wrong.

"Hmm?" he said casually.

"Why does it feel like the entire office is terrified of you today?"

"They should be."

"Mr. Kapoor."

The warning in her voice was unmistakable.

Ram sighed, rubbing his temples. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"I'm working."

"You've been staring at the same file for forty-five minutes."

Ram looked down at his laptop.

She was right.

Again.

That was becoming a troublesome habit.

Priya sat across from him, her gaze steady. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

She laughed with a soft, exasperated sound. "Do you realize nobody believes you when you say that?"

Ram tried not to smile.

Tried.

Failed.

Unfortunately, the fragile moment was shattered by another knock.

Karan entered without waiting for a response.

"Sorry to disturb you," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "I just needed Priya to review the final proposal before we"

"Email it." Ram's voice was ice.

Karan blinked. "Sir?"

"Email. It."

The two words dropped into the silence like stones.

Karan nodded slowly, his enthusiasm visibly deflating. "Of course. I'll do that right away."

The moment he left, Priya turned to Ram.

"That was incredibly rude."

"He'll survive."

"Ram!"

"What?"

"What is wrong with you?"

Nothing.

Everything.

Ram didn't know anymore.

The day finally ended.

Most employees rushed home, eager to escape the strange tension that had permeated the office.

Priya stayed behind, determined to finish her paperwork before leaving. Half an hour later, she finally closed her laptop, stretched her aching shoulders, and walked out into the corridor.

And froze.

Ram was standing there, leaning against the wall outside her cabin.

"Ram?" she asked, startled. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you."

"Waiting?"

"Are you finished?"

"Yes, but..."

"Good. Let's go."

Something about his tone made her suspicious: the clipped words, the controlled stillness, the way he refused to meet her eyes.

The elevator ride was silent.

The drive home was silent.

Even dinner was silent.

By the time Priya had finished her meal, she'd reached her limit. She followed Ram out to the balcony, where he stood staring at the city lights, lost in thought.

"Talk to me," she said quietly.

He didn't respond.

"Ram."

Nothing.

"Mr. Kapoor."

That got his attention.

Slowly, he turned to face her. And for the first time all day, Priya saw the frustration, the insecurity, the vulnerability. Everything he'd been trying so desperately to hide.

"Why does he keep looking at you?"

The question caught her completely off guard. "What?"

"Karan." The name tasted bitter on his tongue. "He never stops looking at you."

Priya blinked. Then blinked again.

Of all the things she'd expected tonight, that wasn't one of them.

"He respects me," she said carefully.

Ram laughed a sharp, humorless sound. "That's not what I asked."

The words hung between them, heavy with emotion.

For a long moment, neither spoke.

Then Priya stepped closer.

"So that's what this is about?" she asked softly.

Ram looked away, his jaw tight. "I know it sounds stupid."

"It does," she agreed.

A reluctant smile flickered across his face, there and gone in an instant.

"But I can't help it," he admitted, his voice dropping low. "I know you love me. I know you'd never... I know. But sometimes..." He trailed off.

Priya waited.

"Sometimes," he continued, struggling for words, "I wonder what you see in me."

Her heart shattered.

Because suddenly this wasn't about jealousy or insecurity or Karan.

It was about Ram.

The man who loved so deeply.

The man who gave everything to the people he cared about.

The man who still carried old wounds and hidden fears despite all his success.

Without a word, Priya moved closer. She reached up, framing his face with her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze.

"Ram Kapoor," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "You really don't know?"

His eyes searched hers, vulnerable and unguarded.

"I see a man who would do anything for his family," she whispered. "I see a man who makes me laugh when I want to cry. I see a man who stood by me when the whole world was against us."

Her thumb traced the sharp line of his cheekbone.

"I see a man who looks at me like I'm the only woman in the universe."

Ram's eyes glistened, and Priya's heart ached at the sight.

"I see a man who is brave enough to be vulnerable with me," she continued. "I see a man who is terrified of losing me, and that doesn't make him weak—it makes him human."

"Priya..." His voice cracked.

"And most of all," she said softly, "I see the man I love with every single piece of my heart."

For a second, the world stopped.

No city lights.

No office politics.

No jealousy.

No misunderstandings.

Just them.

Just Ram and Priya.

Exactly as it had always been.

Exactly as it would always be.

Ram reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her palm, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You're everything to me," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "Everything."

Priya smiled through the tears gathering in her eyes. "I know."

He pulled her into his arms then, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. But she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the warmth of his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "For being jealous. For being difficult. For"

"Stop," she murmured against his shirt. "Just stop."

He fell silent.

Priya pulled back just enough to look up at him. "You don't have to apologize for loving me. You don't have to apologize for feeling things. You just have to trust me."

"I do trust you," he said fiercely. "It's everyone else I don't trust."

She laughed softly. "Then trust that I can handle them."

Ram studied her face, the determination in her eyes, the smile playing at her lips, the absolute certainty radiating from her entire being.

And finally, the jealousy began to fade.

Because the only thing stronger than his possessiveness...

It was Priya's love.

His arms tightened around her, pulling her impossibly closer. Their lips met in a kiss that was all passion and promise and perfect understanding.

"Forever?" he whispered against her lips.

"Forever," she promised.

The next morning, Ram walked into Kapoor Industries with a new resolve.

He found Karan in the hallway, chatting animatedly with an intern.

"Karan," Ram called out.

The younger man turned, his expression immediately guarded. "Sir?"

Ram walked up to him, his presence commanding as always. He extended his hand.

"I want to apologize," he said simply.

Karan stared at the offered hand, clearly stunned.

"For my behavior yesterday," Ram continued. "It was unprofessional. And you didn't deserve it."

Karan blinked. Then slowly, hesitantly, he shook Ram's hand.

"Apology accepted, sir."

Ram nodded once. "Good. Now let me tell you something." His voice was low and sincere. "Priya is the most important person in my life. And I will always protect her from any threat, real or imagined. That doesn't mean I don't trust her. It means I love her."

Karan's eyes widened. "Sir, I..."

"I know." Ram gave a curt nod. "I know you're a good man. That's why you're still here. Just remember"

"I will," Karan said quickly. "I completely understand."

And to his credit, Ram thought he did.

Later that day, Priya found Ram in his office.

She didn't knock.

He looked up as she entered, and something in his expression softened. It always did when she was near.

"I heard you apologized to Karan," she said.

"News travels fast."

"Vikram told me."

"Of course he did." Ram shook his head. "That man can't keep a secret to save his life."

Priya laughed, crossing to his desk. She perched on the edge, looking down at him with a mixture of amusement and affection.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "a jealous Ram Kapoor is actually kind of cute."

Ram's eyebrows shot up. "Cute?"

"Adorable, even."

"I am neither cute nor adorable."

"You absolutely are." She leaned forward, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. "Especially when you pout."

"I don't pout."

"Baby, you pout like a child who's been denied dessert."

Ram's lips twitched despite himself. "I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"No," he agreed, pulling her into his lap. "I really, really don't."

He kissed her, then a kiss that was all warmth and promise and the kind of love that could weather any storm.

And somewhere in the distance, Priya heard a muffled cheer.

She broke the kiss, frowning. "Was that... Vikram?"

Ram groaned, burying his face in her shoulder. "He's outside, isn't he?"

"Definitely."

"Watching?"

"Probably taking notes."

"I'm going to fire him."

"You're going to promote him, and you know it."

Ram lifted his head, looking at his wife with pure adoration.

"I love you," he said simply.

Priya smiled.

"I love you too, Ram Kapoor."

Two weeks later, Karan completed his assignment and moved on to a new project in another city.

On his last day, he stopped by Priya's cabin to say goodbye.

"I'm going to miss working with you," he admitted. "You're the best collaborator I've ever had."

Priya smiled warmly. "You were wonderful to work with, too, Karan. I hope we cross paths again."

"Maybe." He grinned. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Tell your husband to relax. I'm not a threat."

Priya laughed. "I think he knows that now."

"Does he?" Karan's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Then why is he standing in the corridor, pretending to read a report while glaring at me?"

Priya looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, Ram was stationed outside her cabin, a file in his hand, his expression completely focused on something, anything that wasn't them.

"Ram," Priya called out sweetly. "Come here."

Ram approached reluctantly, his jaw tight.

"Say goodbye to Karan," she instructed.

"Goodbye, Karan."

"Goodbye, sir." Karan grinned widely. "It's been a pleasure."

"Has it?" Ram asked flatly.

"Ram!" Priya elbowed him.

"Fine." Ram extended his hand stiffly. "Good luck with your new project."

They shook hands. And for a moment, just a moment, Ram's expression softened.

Karan nodded at them both. "Take care of each other."

"We will," Priya promised.

The moment Karan disappeared around the corner, Ram turned to Priya.

"I still don't like him," he muttered.

Priya laughed, looping her arm through his. "You don't have to like him. You just have to trust me."

Ram looked down at her, his beautiful, brilliant, fiercely loyal wife.

"I do," he said honestly. "I always have."

"Even when you're jealous?"

"Especially when I'm jealous." He pulled her closer. "Because even when I'm being an idiot, I know you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Priya rose on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Good answer, Mr. Kapoor."

"I love you, Mrs. Kapoor."

"I love you too."

And as they walked out of the office together, hand in hand, Ram realized something.

Love wasn't about possession.

It wasn't about fear.

It wasn't about jealousy.

Love was trust.

And Priya had given him that trust.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Forever.

❤️ THE END ❤️