The atmosphere in the room grew even more tense at Laboni's question. She turned from the mirror to face Henry directly, her eyes full of a calculated mix of arithmetic reasoning and astonishment.
Laboni: "Do the math, Henry. On the day it all began, you were just 29 years old. Twenty long years have passed since then. By ordinary calculations, you should now be 49."
She stepped closer, her fingers grazing Henry's taut skin and sharp, youthful jaw.
Laboni: "But look at your body. You still appear to be that 29-year-old man. Those twenty years seem to have simply vanished! That sorcerer has frozen your age. But Henry, do you think nature will accept this stolen youth?"
Henry looked at his hands. Indeed, while his peers bore the marks of aging, he still possessed the vigor of two decades past. Yet this unnatural strength came at the cost of his humanity.
Laboni: "Now tell me, Henry—if you sever the sorcerer's spell, will your body withstand twenty years of reality in an instant? Or will you age into decrepitude in a heartbeat?"
With a trembling voice, Henry replied, "I don't know, Laboni. Perhaps the moment I destroy the sorcerer, my body will snap back to its true age, 49. Perhaps I'll become old in an instant. But I can no longer live trapped in this artificial 29-year-old shell. I want to stand before you as an honest 49-year-old man, not as a puppet of some demon."
Laboni, seeing his courage, felt a surge of respect. She understood that Henry was no longer enslaved by desire; he was ready to accept the truth.
She exhaled deeply, looking at her reflection in the mirror before turning calmly to him:
Laboni: "The math is simple, Henry. When we began, you were 29, and I was only 18. Now, twenty years later, I should be 38."
She lifted her face slightly, where faint traces of age only enhanced her dignity and beauty.
Laboni: "Look, Henry, I never went to a sorcerer. This 38-year-old body of mine is entirely real. In these twenty years, I've become a mother, managed a household, weathered countless storms. Every day has left its mark on me, and I am proud of them. Because they are real."
She took a step closer, her eyes now soft with compassion.
Laboni: "And you? Though you appear as a 29-year-old, inside you are hollow. I am a complete 38-year-old woman, and you are an artificial youth. Can this imbalance ever bring us happiness? You may have tried to defy time, but see, though I am older than you in years, I am stronger than you in spirit."
Henry lowered his head, realizing that Laboni, with her life experience and matured personality as a mother, now stood far above him, while he remained trapped in the twisted magic of a lost youth.
Laboni: "Now tell me—will I use my 38 years of experience and strength to help you escape the sorcerer's deadly trap? Or will you continue to indulge in the intoxication of your artificial youth?"
Henry grasped her hands tightly, tears breaking through as he sobbed, "I no longer want to remain trapped at 29, Laboni. I want to reclaim the twenty years I've lost. I want to live with you as a normal couple—38 and 49—free from any demon's control."
Laboni smiled softly. The harsh anger in her eyes had softened; a tender shadow of affection had replaced it. Calmly, she said:
Laboni: "Alright… don't be afraid. Come closer."
Henry, as if he had been waiting for this very permission, stepped slowly toward her. His eyes pleaded. In a whisper, he asked, "Miss me?"
Laboni ran her fingers through his hair, sensing the man who had lost his way in the lure of power. She gave a gentle smile and replied, "Miss you… love you too."
She rested her hands lovingly on his shoulders and pressed a deep, nurturing kiss to his cheek and lips. Instantly, the sorcerer's unnatural lust seemed to fade like a vanishing spell under her touch.
Leaning close to his ear, Laboni spoke softly: "I only want this, Henry—you to be whole. Dark magic and evil power can never create love. I want the old Henry back, the one who isn't a puppet, but a man who can recognize his own mistakes."
Henry rested his head against her shoulder, feeling for the first time that true peace didn't come from magic, but from Laboni's selfless love.
Her tender kiss and whispered plea struck the deepest chord in his heart, as if washing away all his sins and darkness. Overcome with emotion, he could no longer restrain himself.
He lifted her gently into his arms, holding her with the same strength of his youthful body, but now with a fear of losing her and a longing to reclaim what was real.
Henry: "Have you forgiven me, Laboni? I promise… I will abandon this demonic power. With you by my side, I can face anything."
Laboni rested against him, listening to his heartbeat. She understood the depth of his loneliness and whispered, smiling softly:
Laboni: "Set me down, Henry. We have work to do. First, we must sever the sorcerer's spell, and then return to our children."
Henry didn't put her down but carried her to the window, overlooking the glittering night skyline of America. Yet their hearts were with the memories of old days in Bangladesh.
Henry: "Tonight may be the last night I wield this power. Tomorrow, when I destroy the sorcerer, I may become old in an instant. Will you still love me then?"
Laboni placed her hand on his cheek: "The 29-year-old I loved at 18 is the one I want back today at 38—your 49, it matters not. I have no regrets."
As Laboni rested her head against his chest, Henry gently lowered her to the bed. He knelt before her, like a devoted warrior at a queen's side.
Henry held her soft hands in his own, tears glistening in his eyes. One drop fell onto her hand. With utmost devotion and remorse, he pressed a long kiss to her hands.
Henry, voice choked with emotion: "With these hands, I have caused you so much pain, Laboni. These tears and this kiss are my penance. You've shown me the way—without you, I would have remained a creature of that hell forever."
Laboni felt the warmth of his tears counter the burn of all the evil fire the sorcerer had bestowed upon him. She lifted his chin gently, looking into his eyes.
Laboni: "Do not cry, Henry. Tears weaken a person. Now we must be strong. Before we destroy that sorcerer, we must trust each other completely."
Henry did not release her hand, resting his face against it in silent contemplation. In this luxurious VIP suite, there was no IG or powerful figure—only a lost man seeking forgiveness from the one he trusted most.
Henry: "Do you know, Laboni? In these twenty years I've gained much, yet never slept in peace. Now, having your forgiveness, it feels as if the Himalayas have lifted from my chest."
Outside, the first light of dawn was breaking. They both knew that today would be their greatest trial yet—to destroy the sorcerer's hidden dark magic and return to a normal life once more.