Wings & Chains (Season 2) Chapter - 8 (Last Episode)

 Chapter 8 – Love Unbound

The evening breeze was warm, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the garden below. Aditi sat by the French windows of her apartment, sketchbook open, pencil tapping against the paper. She wasn’t drawing—just tracing meaningless patterns, as though trying to calm the storm inside her.

Her phone lit up.

Aditya: “I’m outside.”

Her heart skipped, but she typed nothing back. He had been… different lately. Less controlling, less suffocating. Almost as if he had decided to loosen his grip and see what she would do. And strangely, she missed the intensity she used to resent.

She opened the door to find him standing there—not in his sharp business suit, but in a soft grey shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He held no flowers, no gifts. Just… a quiet gaze that felt heavier than any words.

Aditi: “No meetings tonight?”
Aditya: “Not the kind that require boardrooms.”

She smiled faintly, stepping aside. He walked in, glancing around as though memorising the details of her space—the free scatter of books, the open curtains, the mess of art supplies on the table.

Aditya: “You look more… you here.”
Aditi: “That’s the point. It’s my place. My air.”

There was no bite in her tone. Just truth.

He sat on the edge of her couch, elbows on his knees, looking at her as though she was something rare and fragile.

Aditya: “You know, I’ve spent my life holding things tight. My company. My empire. My time. People too. I thought if I didn’t hold them, they’d slip away.”
Aditi: “And now?”
Aditya: “Now I think… maybe I’ve been wrong. Maybe if you hold too tight, you kill what you’re trying to keep alive.”

Her pencil stopped moving.

Aditi: “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you since the day we met.”
Aditya: “I know. I just… didn’t want to lose you.”
Aditi: “And I didn’t want to lose myself.”

Silence filled the room, but it wasn’t cold. It was warm, steady, like a tide that had finally found its rhythm.

He stood and walked to the window where she sat. The city lights painted his face in soft gold and shadow.

Aditya: “So maybe… we don’t bind. We choose. Every day. You choose me, I choose you. No cages. No chains.”

Her throat tightened. She had dreamt of this—but part of her feared it was too good to be real.

Aditi: “And if one day I need to fly?”
Aditya: “Then I’ll be the wind. Not the rope.”

She looked at him, really looked—beyond the arrogance, beyond the power, into the man who had finally understood her language.

She closed her sketchbook, stood, and placed her hand over his heart.

Aditi: “Then maybe, Aditya, we might actually work.”

And for the first time, his smile didn’t feel like victory—it felt like peace.