One year later.
The engines roared louder than ever.
Crowds screamed. Cameras flashed. The world watched.
And there she stood—Vashti Dhiman—helmet in hand, flame suit shining, back where she belonged.
On the F1 track.
The girl who had once been called impossible, reckless, even Hitler by her peers… was now a legend.
After the crash, many said she'd never race again.
But Vashti didn't just heal—she fought, trained, pushed, and returned stronger.
This was her comeback race.
And right there in the pit lane stood Dr. Shabd Heer—now a celebrated neurosurgeon with tired eyes, calm hands, and a smile that was only ever meant for her.
He wasn't the boy who ignored her anymore.
He was the man who knew she was the only race worth chasing.
Vashti walked toward him before the race, pulled off her helmet, and grinned.
"Don't faint watching me win."
Shabd chuckled. "Only if you promise not to crash just to get my attention again."
She poked his chest. "Still annoying."
He leaned in. "Still yours."
They didn't need rings or long speeches.
They had scars, memories, and a love that refused to quit.
The lights above the track lit up:
Red. Red. Red. Green. GO.
Vashti sped forward—fearless, focused, free.
From the stands, her fans chanted her name. From the pit, Shabd watched her like she was the heartbeat of the world.
And somewhere between lap 21 and 22, the commentators shouted:
"Vashti Dhiman takes the lead!"
The girl who once loved alone now had the world beside her.
And the boy who once walked away… never left her side again.
The love that began one-sided didn't end that way.
And while the title of the story remained The Incomplete Love…
In that moment, watching her fly across the finish line—
Shabd Heer knew it finally felt complete.
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