Arjun Mehra, 38, is a towering figure in India’s tech world — the founder of a billion-dollar startup empire, with offices stretching from Mumbai to Silicon Valley. His personal life is a mystery. Only a few grainy tabloid shots have ever surfaced. People know he’s rich, know he’s brilliant — but few know he’s ever been in love.

That day’s flight from Paris to Mumbai was his final business trip before the New Year holidays. Arjun sat in business class, noise-canceling headphones on, eyes half-closed.

The plane had reached cruising altitude. Flight attendants were serving drinks when he suddenly heard the soft giggles of children behind him.

Without knowing why, he removed his headphones and turned around.

She was seated just one row behind him.

Aanya Singh.

Arjun froze.
Aanya — his college love. The woman he once thought he would marry. She had vanished from his life after a bitter fight seven years ago. Disbelieving, he glanced again. She looked almost the same — perhaps more mature, with longer hair and eyes that no longer held youthful innocence.

But what locked his gaze wasn’t her.

It was the two little boys sitting beside her.

They looked about six. Matching t-shirts. Messy black hair as if just woken from a nap. And those faces — God, those faces. Not “a little” similar. Identical. Miniature versions of himself. Big eyes, high nose bridge, dimples when they smiled.

Arjun felt as though someone had punched him in the chest.

He turned back in his seat, heart pounding.
Memories crashed in: motorbike rides along Goa’s beaches, sleepless nights dreaming of the future, and the silence that followed their final fight.

She had said just one thing:
“I can’t live in the shadow of your ambition anymore.”
And then she left.

For seven years, he’d heard nothing. He hadn’t searched, out of pride… and the belief that it was truly over.

And now, two children who might be his — just a row behind.

The plane landed in Mumbai at 6:00 AM. He waited at the gate, his chest still thudding.

“Aanya,” he called softly.

She turned. Her eyes widened.
“Arjun?”

He gave a faint smile. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah… How have you been?”

“Good… I guess.” He looked at the two boys. “These are…”

She looked at her sons, then back at him.
“This is Aarav and Kabir. My sons.”

“They… really look like me,” he said, unable to stop himself.

“I know.”

Silence fell between them.

He looked into her eyes, and asked carefully:
“Are they… mine?”

She paused for a few seconds. Then nodded.

They sat in a small café at the airport. The two boys sat nearby, laughing over pastries.

Aanya explained: After she left, she went to France for her master’s in design. When she discovered she was pregnant, she almost terminated. But she couldn’t go through with it.

She didn’t want to force Arjun to give up his dreams. Nor did she want her children to grow up under someone’s pity.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew — if you found out, you’d drop everything to come back. And I didn’t want that decision to become your regret,” she said firmly.

Arjun stared out the window. He had never felt so small. A billionaire, a symbol of success — yet he had no idea what he’d lost all these years.

He asked, “Do they… know about me?”

“No. I told them their father is working far away.”

He was quiet. Then said, “I won’t say I’m sorry — I know it wouldn’t mean much. But I want to make things right. For them. For you.”

She looked at him for a long time.
“I don’t want you to ‘make things right’. I just want you to be sincere if you choose to be present.”

“I want that. I want to know what makes them laugh. I want to walk them to school. Read bedtime stories.”

Aanya gave a bittersweet smile.
“Do you even know their favorite food? Aarav loves crispy eggs. Kabir hates the color yellow. Both are terrified of thunderstorms. I’ve been there for them, Arjun — for six years.”

He lowered his head.
“Then let me start now. Let me learn. Let me be a father — truly, from the beginning if I can.”

She looked at him. Then turned toward the boys. Aarav and Kabir were busy giggling, smearing frosting on each other’s noses.

It was so beautiful — it almost hurt.

“This won’t be easy,” she said quietly.

“I’m not asking for easy. I’m asking for a chance.”

She sighed, then nodded gently.
“Then start by taking them to breakfast. I’m exhausted.”

Arjun stood up and walked over to the boys. He sat across from them. They stared curiously.

“Hi, boys,” he said, his voice shaking.
“My name is Arjun. I’m your… dad.”

Aarav furrowed his brows. Kabir tilted his head.
“Dad?”

He nodded.

After a pause, Aarav lit up.
“I know! I saw your picture in mommy’s purse! I look just like you!”

Kabir looked at him, hesitated, then asked:
“Do you know how to play Lego?”

Arjun smiled.
“I’ll learn.”