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In the entire 27 years of my existence, I had never been this irritated.
And what made it worse was the fact that I loved this irritation.
A lot.
I stared at my phone like it had personally betrayed me, my thumb hovering uselessly over the screen while my brain struggled to accept the tragedy in front of me.
61 missed calls.
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Still sixty one.
All because I had committed the gravest crime known to marriage, yes, forgetting to update my husband about what I ate, when I ate, how much water I drank, and how much oxygen i inhaled.
At this point, I was genuinely waiting for him to ask for my blood pressure and pulse rate report every thirty minutes.
A soft laugh slipped out, helpless and traitorous, the kind that always ruined my attempts to stay annoyed with him. I shook my head, placed the patient file aside, and finally called him back.
He answered on the first ring.
“Ruhanika.”
Just my name.
My eyebrow lifted on its own.
Ah.
That tone.
This was not a sweet husband call.
This was a full disciplinary meeting aka Lecture call.
“Vihaan,” I replied, carefully sweetening my voice, pouring honey into his name to melt his anger.
If there was one thing I was excellent at, it was distracting my husband.
“No,” he shut it down immediately. “Do not do that. I am not falling for your tricks anymore. Listen to me properly. I am very serious right now.”
I leaned back in my chair, eyes closing briefly as if bracing myself for impact. I nodded even though he could not see me.
“When are you going to learn to eat on time and take care of yourself?” he continued, frustration slipping through his calm voice. “You are a doctor, Ruhanika. A grown woman. Yet you behave like a toddler who refuses to eat. Aarvi eats properly and she is just two years old.”
Seriously? Did he just compare me with a two year old.
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but he did not even pause.
“And do not you dare mimic my tone.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I was sure my brain cells felt it. And yet i did mimic his tone.
“Vihaan,” I said patiently, “I did eat. I was just busy. OPD was-“
“You always say that,” he interrupted. “Busy does not mean skipping meals. You are pregnant. You do not get to ignore your body anymore. It can affect you and the baby. And i can’t bear if anything happens to both of you.”
“And you know what?” he added. “I am complaining to Ankita mumma.”
I stared at my phone in disbelief. This man was threatening me with my own mother.
“Mummy ka chamcha,” I muttered.
“I heard that,” he said immediately.
I scoffed, “Good. Finally you upgraded your listening skills.”
Silence followed.
And suddenly, my chest felt heavy. My eyes burned for no logical reason. I ended the call.
Blame my hormones.
I knew I had eaten. I just ate late. But somehow, with him, it always turned into a lecture. I could not even eat half of the things I liked anymore. And he scolded me.
Before my thoughts spiraled further, my cabin door opened.
My brother walked in, took one look at my face, and sighed.
“No,” I said instantly. “Not you too. I am not mentally prepared for another lecture.”
He chuckled and sat beside me, “Looks like my sister survived one already.”
“Yes,” I groaned. “My husband is annoying. I love him, but still. And mumma made him supervise my food. How does Prisha bhabhi even survive her strictness?”
He laughed, “Because I was always her favorite target.”
He handed me a candy.
My mood lifted instantly. It was a sweet and little bit tangy.
My favorite.
“Okay,” he said gently, “this is only for your mood. Promise me you will not neglect food. Whatever mumma says, it is for your health. And the baby.”
“I understand,” I sighed, packing my bag and slipping my stethoscope inside.
He kissed my forehead. “I will be late today, so, you can go.”
I nodded resting my head on the table, “It has been a long day.”
“Then go home,” he said softly. “You have been living in this hospital.”
By the time OPD and rounds were over, my body felt unusually heavy.
5 months pregnant.
Five months of emotional chaos.
I loved this phase, I truly did. But it was overwhelming. The nausea. The mood swings. Crying without reasons. Food irritated me, the aroma or any kind of fragrance irritated me. Some days, even i feel annoyed by the presence of myself only.
I had completed my PG two months ago, and my duties were kept light. Dad had made sure of that.
Mumma, however, had upgraded herself. She was no longer just my mother. She was my supervising doctor. And that too strict one.
And Vihaan?
Her most obedient intern.
She handed him my diet chart to him and he accepted it like a life mission. Like a challenge inside a game that he needs to complete to reach the next level.
Most days, I found it cute.
Today, it annoyed me. Because he scolded me.
So when I reached the parking area and saw him inside the car, I pretended he did not exist and slid into the passenger seat.
He was busy on his laptop. Codes flashed across the screen like an alien language.
“Yeah, I am looking at the build right now,” he muttered while looking into screen.
Oh, his meeting is going on.
“The lag is coming from the movement controller, not the server,” His fingers moved with the speed of light.
“Okay, found it. The character model wasn’t syncing properly. I’ll fix it and send another update.”
I stared outside, watching the parking lot and sighed.
“Wait, don’t restart it yet. I think the problem is in the animation, not the server.”
He kept typing, switching between windows without even looking at the keyboard, completely focused.
The veins in his hands popped out as his fingers moved quickly, and for a second my thoughts drifted somewhere they absolutely shouldn’t. I quickly shook my head.
No, Ruhanika. You’re still mad at him.
I shook my head and reached for the water bottle from behind the seat. Before I could open it, he took it from my hand.
“Hold on,” he whispered to me, still focused on the screen. As i saw the call ended.
He opened the bottle, placed it back in my hand, and immediately returned to typing.
I drank quietly, watching outside.
Finally, he closed the laptop, taking out his headset and placed it in the back.
“Ruh,” he called softly.
As he leaned in to buckle his seatbelt, his scent wrapped around me. And just like that, my shoulders relaxed.
Yes, I was hopelessly obsessed with my husband.
His leaned towards me and his lips brushed my neck gently.
I stayed still.
Because irritation aside, I needed him more than my pride.
“Biwi ji, suniye,” he whispered.
I ignored him.
“Vihaan ki Ruh, zara suniye,” he tried again in his soft voice.
Cheesy. But yet a giggle escaped me before I could stop it, but I quickly wiped my face into a fake serious expression.
“Accha…sorry,” he murmured.
“I hate you,” I whispered, turning away.
He lifted my chin gently. “But I love you,” he said, kissing my lips softly.
I glared at him anyway.
Hormones were cruel, traitorous little chemicals.
“You scolded me,” I mumbled, my voice wobbling despite my best effort to sound angry.
Instead of arguing, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around me, slow and careful, one palm resting protectively over my stomach. His thumb moved in small circles like he was calming both me and our little munchkin at once.
Then he shifted, reached into the side pocket, and pulled out a small box.
“Before you say anything,” he said, holding it up, “look.”
Cheesecake.
Perfect.
My anger dissolved instantly, the traitor that I was. Anything for food.
“I know exactly how to fix my baby’s mother’s mood,” he smiled, kissing my forehead as he turned the key and started the engine.
“I already ate, just late. And I drank enough water” I said, even as I opened the box and took a careful bite. I held another piece out to him.
He leaned in and accepted the bite. “Hmm,” he said thoughtfully, eyes flicking toward me. “Still, after this, no unhealthy food for the next four days.”
I mimicked his tone exaggeratedly while taking another bite.
He laughed, that warm, full laugh that always made my chest feel lighter, “I can see it already. Your….wait I remember the chemical name…..yess…..your serotonin levels are sky high.”
“They were low because you scolded me,” I reminded him.
“I didn’t mean to scold you, Ruh,” he replied making an innocent face. “And I am praying our baby develops healthy eating habits, because clearly one of us did not.”
I shot him a sharp look, enough to cut glass, “Listen, you stupid Homo sapien. I eat very healthy. There are just certain foods I choose not to fight.”
He chuckled, shaking his head and started driving.
The rest of the drive passed softly. Vihaan talked about work, about deadlines and bugs and how a single wrong line of code could ruin an entire build.
Sometimes he lectured, sometimes he rambled, sometimes he just filled the silence because he knew I liked hearing his voice.
I listened quietly, humming in agreement, savoring my cheesecake and the comfort of being loved, scolded, fed, and taken care of all at once.
I won’t like but I like him yapping. Even it’s a stupid issue.
After reaching home, I went straight to my room, dropped my bag on the bed and headed for the shower.
Since we had already planned dinner for the weekend, there was no hurry tonight. This is our routine now.
Vihaan had already prepared lukewarm water, of course.
The man treated my comfort like a sacred duty, one he performed with frightening sincerity.
The warm water relaxed me instantly, washing away the hospital smell, the exhaustion, and the irritation I had carried all day. By the time I stepped out, wrapped in a towel, my body felt lighter and my mind calmer.
I stopped in front of the mirror without meaning to.
My cheeks were fuller now, rounder in a way that felt unfamiliar.
When I stood in front of the mirror, I could see my body. I looked down at my belly and sighed. I turned a little, then a little more, inspecting myself. I tilted my head and studied my reflection again.
I look like a potato.
Alright. I might be changing, but… I still looked dangerous enough to make my husband forget his own name. Or at least to make him go insane.
Am I becoming a narcissist like my husband? He is such a bad influence.
But whatever, it was all true.
Satisfied, I smiled.
And then, of course, he walked in. Holding my freshly ironed dress.
The moment our eyes met, he paused mid-step. As he looked at me, wrapped in a towel. His gaze lingered in that annoying, reverent way that made me want to roll my eyes and also melt at the same time.
A few years ago, if someone told me I’d be doing this, I would have laughed.
Now? It changes slightly a bit.
And with him, every version of me felt welcome, even the slightly flabby, slightly cranky version.
So this is what happens when you find that level of comfort with your partner.
“Vihaan,” I called softly, dragging his name out just enough to yank him from his reverie.
He blinked and cleared his throat.
“Yes?” he asked.
“It’s itching,” I said innocently.
His eyes narrowed, “Where exactly?”
“Somewhere around…here,” I said, gesturing vaguely.
He sighed dramatically, placing the dress aside.
“Fine,” he muttered, stepping closer like he was surrendering to some invisible fate.
He turned me gently so our reflections lined up in the mirror. His hands moved over me carefully, brushing over my waist and back, lingering in all the right ways to ease my irritation, which was of course never there. His eyes kept drifting to the reflection.
Then, just as he leaned down to kiss my neck, I decided to test my luck. I let my finger brush the edge of my towel just a fraction, letting it slip slightly, just enough to tease him. I pulled it back immediately.
His hands halted.
Our eyes met in the mirror.
“I know exactly what you are doing,” he said slowly, biting my earlobe
I widened my eyes innocently, “Helping you multitask?”
“Do not play innocent with me,” he muttered.
I tilted my head, “It really was itching.”
He shook his head, a smile fighting its way through, “You enjoy making things difficult for me.”
“No,” I corrected sweetly. “I enjoy you.”
He leaned in slightly, with a hint of teasing, “Honestly, I don’t know if I should be mad or kiss you right now.”
I smiled and reached for my dress, but before I could move, his fingers wrapped around my wrist.
“Ruh,” he said softly.
The teasing tone disappeared, replaced with some tension. I turned back.
“Yes?”
He stepped closer, hand sliding from my wrist to my waist, resting like it belonged. Which, frankly, it did.
“You should not tease me like that,” he murmured.
“Why?” I asked, tilting my head innocently.
“Because controlling myself around you already requires actual effort,” he said, leaning in, lips brushing my temple then my cheek.
“You know,” he whispered, “you look even more beautiful these days.”
“Even more?” I asked, raising a brow, clearly suspicious.
“Yes,” he said thoughtfully. “Like a cute pufferfish.”
I didn’t even think. I smacked his arm.
He gasped loudly, clutching his chest like I had gravely wounded him.
“Violence,” he accused, dramatic to his core.
“Oh, please,” I scoffed.
He immediately wrapped his arms around me, trapping me against his chest.
“Fine,” he amended quickly.
“Correction. You are looking like a star, glowing and completely outshining everything around you..”
I giggled when he kissed my cheeks, then my arms, then my hands, guiding me to sit beside him on the bed. His hand remained on my waist, steady, grounding, a little warm bubble of safety for our little one.
“So I am not looking like a panda, right?” I asked, dead serious.
He laughed immediately, “No.”
“Penguin?” I pressed.
“Definitely not.”
“Then what do I look like?” I demanded.
He leaned back, still holding my hand, and pressed a slow, gentle kiss to my wrist. His fingers stayed wrapped around mine, steady and familiar.
“You look like someone I fell in love with all over again and like there’s a tiny heartbeat trusting you enough to grow right here with us.”
I feel like crying.
His thumb traced absent-minded patterns on my waist. He leaned in for a kiss then stopped.
I frowned, “Why did you stop?”
He straightened, “I realized this might not be appropriate in front of our baby.”
“You cannot be serious,” I said, shaking my head at him in disbelief.
“I have an image to maintain,” he said gravely. “Respectable father.”
I groaned, “Oh, please.”
I grabbed his collar and kissed him before he could say something even more ridiculous. He laughed softly against my lips, one hand instinctively moving to cover my baby bump as if he was covering our kiddo to see and hear an inappropriate thing.
“See, you are already teaching bad habits,” he murmured
“Tch tch,” I said dramatically. “I am such a disciplined woman. Our baby will definitely inherit my skills.”
He raised an eyebrow, “And if the baby goes on me?”
“Then we’ll need noise-cancelling headphones,” I said sweetly.
He narrowed his eyes at me, “Unfair.”
“Realistic,” I replied.
I leaned into him, “I am still voting for my genes.”
He chuckled at my words and nodded.
A few minutes later, Vihaan helped me into my dress slowly and carefully. His fingers gently smoothed the fabric over my shoulders, fixing the sleeves, making sure nothing felt tight.
When he stepped back.
He came closer and held my hand, squeezing it softly.
“We should go down,” he said.
I nodded.
Downstairs, Adhya mumma was busy chopping vegetables while Yuvraaj papa stood near the stove, completely focused, like he was shooting for a cooking reality show finale.
MasterChef finale. I guess.
I walked into the kitchen and hugged mumma from behind. She almost jumped.
“Ruhanika, what happened? Did my stupid son trouble you again?” she asked, panicking.
“No no,” I laughed. “I was just missing you.”
I kissed her cheek and she relaxed instantly.
Papa turned around, “Why are you standing here? Go rest. And where is my nalayak beta?”
“Right here,” Vihaan said from behind me. “And I am innocent, Papa.”
“Innocent my foot,” mumma muttered.
Papa laughed and handed me a small bowl, “I made nuts laddoo for you. Eat this before breakfast. It is healthy.”
I nodded obediently.
“I love you both,” I said suddenly, my voice thick, as i felt tears pooling in my eyes.
Ugh. Hormones really had no chill.
“And me?” Vihaan asked dramatically.
“Oh gosh, vihaan, you scared the hell out of me,” I jumped in horror when he hugged me from behind.
“I hate you,” I added and walked toward the living room.
“That means she loves you,” mumma said casually.
Vihaan followed me, “Biwi ji, you will sit here soon. Atharv and everyone will come later. Now rest,” he said, placing a bowl of roasted makhanas (fox nuts) in my hands.
“You can munch on these slowly till the dinner will get ready,” he added.
I sighed and gave him a salute gesture. As I walked toward the living room, something outside caught my attention.
Through the window, I saw Papa in the yard, sweeping fallen leaves near the old tree.
Without thinking, I stepped outside of the house and signalled Mumma saying that I am going to my father. She noticed immediately and nodded in a yes.
“Dad, can I help?” I asked.
He turned at once, worry flashing across his face, “No, no. Why did you come out? It is chilly right now. You will catch a cold.”
My eyes drifted to the corner of the yard.
The swing.
“The swing was broken,” I said looking at him.
My feet instinctively moved toward it, excitement bubbling up, and then, realisation hit hard.
Slow. You are not alone anymore. Please remember that, Ruhii.
“Ruhii, slowly,” Dad said gently, already alert.
I nodded obediently and sat on the swing, pushing it lightly with my feet. The soft creak filled the air in comfort. For a moment, everything else faded.
When did I grow up this much?
Dad placed the broom aside and came to sit next to me. We swung quietly, side by side.
Just silence.
After a while, he cleared his throat, like he had been rehearsing this in his head.
“Take your vitamins on time. Avoid too much sugar. Eat properly. Do not complain. It affects your health and the baby.”
I smiled.
There it was.
Like father-in-law, like son-in-law.
The careful way he said it made my chest feel tight, in a good way.
“How did it get fixed?” I asked him.
“You asked about this swing last week,” he added quickly, like he did not want to make it emotional. “So I got it fixed. It is safe now and stable.”
My smile widened as I munched on the nuts Vihaan had handed me earlier. I leaned closer and rested my head on his shoulder.
He went still. As if he was afraid to move. Then his hand slowly came up and rested on my head, patting it gently, the same way he used to when I was little.
“You want to say something?” he asked softly.
I shook my head, then paused, “I was missing you.”
“I am always here,” he said, clearing his throat.
“I know,” I smiled. “I was missing old times.” A laugh escaped me, followed immediately by a tear.
Hormones. Definitely hormones. I blamed everything on hormones these days.
He smiled gently, “You and Kunal grew up so fast. Remember when we bought that cycle? You both fought over it and you even got a scratch also.”
“And bhai panicked when I got hurt,” I laughed. “He asked Dadu to do surgery, over a tiny scratch.”
We both burst into laughter.
I hugged him again, tighter.
Then-
Click.
“The best picture of the year,” Vihaan smiled, shaking the phone in front of me.
When did he come?
“Now stop crying, Ruh. How long will you stay emotional over the muddy princess conversation?” My husband teased.
I glared at him.
“Bas bas. Aaj ka quota khatam ho gaya rone ka,” he said, gently wrapping the shawl around me against the cold wind. “Now smile.”
(Today’s crying quota is finished)
“Mamu,” a small voice called.
Vihaan sighed deeply, “Ruh, Papa, please come fast. I should go before this little tornado destroys something.”
And he ran inside making me chuckle.
“Your husband will be a very good father,” Dad said quietly.
I know. He will be the best father.
“Sometimes I think if we had not come here, we might never have met,” I said softly.
“Who knows?” he smiled.
“What?” I asked, confused. “Dad, what do you mean?”
“Well, that is a story for another time,” he said with a small smile, and walked inside.
I sighed, knowing he would not tell me.
Dinner passed quietly, broken only by a video call from Maasi. She announced she had fallen in love with someone and was now dating.
We immediately dug up all the information.
And with all our hearts, we silently prayed that he would come into her life soon, hoping that this new chapter would bring her the happiness she deserved.
β’β’β’β’β’
“Why did you do this?” I asked, staring at my husband like he had personally betrayed me and the unborn child who trusted him blindly.
Actually, he had.
Vihaan stood near the bed with his arms crossed, his face calm in a way that felt extremely disrespectful given the situation.
“Did what?” he asked innocently, which immediately confirmed that he knew exactly what he had done and was choosing violence.
I grabbed the pillow beside me and threw it at him with full strength.
Very satisfying.
“I am craving fast food,” I announced loudly, already grabbing another pillow. “Proper fast food. Spicy. Crunchy.”
I threw the second pillow for emphasis.
He dodged it and raised his hands, “Ruh, listen to me for one second.”
“No,” I said firmly, throwing another pillow at him. “You listen to me because I am carrying a very tiny boss inside me, and that tiny boss is extremely serious about wanting noodles right now.”
I was not angry, which was important to clarify even to myself.
I was hormonal, and that was a medically accepted condition that required cooperation and snacks.
Honestly, I was being very reasonable.
He laughed, actually laughed, like this was funny and not a serious crisis, “You are attacking your husband.”
“Exactly,” I pointed at him dramatically. “You are mine, so this is allowed.”
Somewhere deep inside my brain, a tiny logical voice tried to remind me that junk food was not ideal right now, but cravings did not attend logic classes.
They attended emotion-only meetings.
And my emotions wanted spicy noodles that would make my taste buds very happy.
I sat down on the bed and crossed my arms, fully committing to my sulk.
Vihaan approached carefully and sat beside me like even the mattress might complain if he moved too fast.
“Sweetheart,” he said gently, resting his hand on my knee, “junk food is not good for you right now.”
“I can eat a small amount,” I whined. “It will not harm anyone, I promise.”
But he looked at me softly and rubbed his temple as if he is handling a toddler.
Then I turned on the drama fully, “Vihaan, I am your wife, and the little troublemaker inside me will hold a grudge against you forever if you don’t do this right now.”
He looked at me calmly, clearly immune to my innocence.
An entire hour of me sulking and him pretending he was winning passed before I spoke again.
“Vihaan.”
“Yes?”
“I am hungry.”
“I can make food.”
“No, it will be bland,” I said seriously. “That dalia had no taste.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, and said in a little strict tone, “Still no junk.”
“Vihu baby,” I said sweetly, clinging to his arm, “our child is asking for spice and happiness. Tum apne baby ke liye ittu sa bhi nahi kar sakte?”
He looked at me mischievously and placed his hand on my bump, “Aww….mere baby ko spicy food chahiye?”
I nodded eagerly because this was clearly working.
“Come,” he said and walked outside of the room.
I jumped up immediately, “See? Baby power.”
Ten minutes later, he returned with a bowl and a proud expression that made me immediately suspicious.
I looked inside the bowl and froze.
“What is this?” I asked very carefully.
“Healthy noodles,” he said proudly.
“They look like vegetables,” I muttered flatly.
“They are zucchini noodles,” he explained. “With curd, spices, and a little chili oil.”
Internally, I muttered to the tiny human inside me kicking me around, “Congratulations, your father is slightly insane but adorable.”
I picked up one strand with deep suspicion, “This does not look good.”
“It is Ruh special,” he said proudly. “Your husband did some creativity.”
I sighed and tasted it.
Instant regret.
“This tastes like eating a paper,” I said honestly. I mean this has no taste. Absolutely no. Huff!!
“Eat slowly, the taste will improve,” he said confidently.
“It is betrayal,” I corrected, pushing the bowl away. “The baby is offended.”
He laughed and tried to feed me another bite.
He waved the bowl like a trophy, “Ruh, these are not just noodles! These are zucchini noodles, cooked perfectly with curd, spices, and a little chili oil. I made them just for you. They are healthy, flavorful, and scientifically balanced to give maximum happiness per bite. Every strand was carefully measured to perfection, and I literally risked my entire reputation as a husband to make them exactly right for you.”
I scrunched my nose at his stupid, dramatic explanation.
“Vihaan,” I snapped, dramatically pointing at him, “your actions are elevating my cortisol, triggering cephalgia and my gustatory receptors are rejecting this food.”
He looked confused for a second as i just spoke an alien language but then smiled proudly, “You know what Ruh…..Mitochondria are the powerhouses of the cell. Now eat this food.”
I stared at him and shook my head, “Did you seriously only remember this?”
He grinned, leaning closer, “No, I only remember my biwi’s grumpy, adorable face.”
I felt my cheeks heat up-keyword, felt, because I was definitely failing at not blushing.
“I hate you,” I muttered, taking another bite, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.
He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, “Eat.”
I pouted, as dramatic as ever, “I should have married a street food vendor instead.”
He smirked, wiping sauce from the corner of my lips and teasing, “Aap kahe toh ban jaaun?”
“So that means I can have-“
“Too late,” he laughed, pulling me into his arms. “You are stuck with me.”
He went to do the dishes and I quietly pushed the bowl away.
“I am done with this,” I announced and went upstairs.
An hour later, I fell asleep still craving spicy noodles, and to be clear, it was not me, it was definitely the baby.
Trust me, I am very innocent.
Sometime later, I woke up with a very serious craving.
A mischievous idea entered my mind.
I shook his arm gently, “Vihaan, utho.”
“Kya hua?” he mumbled.
“I want mango.”
“Didn’t you say that you didn’t want anything sweet.”
“It is not me,” I said innocently. “It is your baby.”
He touched my forehead and caressed my cheek. That worked immediately.
“But it is night,” he said.
“I just want mango,” I sulked.
He sighed, “I will be back.”
Inside my head, celebrations started.
The moment he left, I tiptoed into the kitchen.
“Baby,” I whispered, pulling out a noodle packet, “we will bake cookies for your papa as an apology for making him go outside at night.”
I boiled the noodles quickly, mixing the masala carefully, and ate just enough to calm my craving. Tiny bites, perfectly measured, because only enough to satisfy us, not the full appetite.
“I know papa is overprotective,” I murmured, rubbing my belly. “But a little noodles are okay, and I promise I know what I am doing. I will never let any harm come to you… besides, I’m a doctor, I know.”
I murmured alone, as if giving a full briefing to my little one, while it kicked back at me as if approving.
The noodles were perfect. I took a seat, enjoying the first bite, letting the spice hit just right.
Then another kick.
“Did you enjoy it?” I whispered softly. Another little movement followed.
“I am such a good chef, ain’t this true?” I whispered to the little one inside, grinning.
“I know I can cook, but honestly…one man can still beat me every time. I guess it’s in the genes…your papa also cooks like a pro. I mean, seriously… amazing.”
I smiled, cleaning every trace like an innocent criminal, feeling proud of myself and settled down to wait.
An hour passed, and my worry was growing by the minute.
Where is he?
Finally, the doorbell rang, and my heart leapt into my throat. I rushed to the door, expecting….well, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was expecting, but this definitely wasn’t it.
I opened the door and froze.
“What is this, Vihaan?” I asked, blinking at the sight in front of me.
He stood there, looking completely exhausted, hair messy as if he had run a marathon, holding several heavy bags.
“I did not know which mango would make you both happy and I had no clue which variety our little kiddo would like….so I bought all of them,” he said, voice tired but excited, as he scratched his neck.
All of them? I stare at the bags in disbelief.
Is this man serious?
“Whatttt?” I managed to say, my voice rising in a mix of shock and amusement.
He stepped inside, carefully setting down the bags, and began listing the varieties as if he were unveiling a treasure. Each mango got its own moment, and he held my hand, guiding me to the dining table as if I were a guest of honor.
“I had to go to a grocery shop that’s open 24/7 to find the perfect, fresh ones for you,” he explained, “even though I had asked them to deliver fresh mangoes in the morning.”
I felt terrible when it finally hit me how much effort he had put in just for us. He hadn’t rushed this. He had actually thought about it.
He placed the mangoes on the table one by one, explaining them like it mattered.
“This is Langda,” he said. “It’s a little tangy but still sweet. Some people really like that balance.”
He picked up the next one, “Chausa. This one is softer and very juicy and the taste is worth it.”
Then he pointed to a longer one, “this is dasheri. It’s sweeter, smooth, and easy to eat.”
Lastly, he held the rounder mango, “Alphonso. It has a strong flavor.”
He looked at me again.
“We have Kesar, Ambika, Totapuri too… and even kaccha aam,” he added, and I smiled at him softly as i felt like crying again.
“I think you should try Dasheri,” he said. “It’s simple, sweet, and not too heavy. You both will like it.”
I nodded slowly, watching him, my chest feeling tight for reasons I couldn’t quite explain. And then the tears started. Slowly at first, then in an unstoppable rush.
He panicked instantly, “Ruh, kya hua?”
“I am sorry,” I sobbed, trying to steady my voice.
“Ahh, shant meri bullet train, shant ,” he said calmly, guiding me to sit down and handing me a glass of water. He brushed my hair back from my face and rubbed my back soothingly.
“I lied to you, just so you go outside because I wanted to eat noodles, and now I feel so bad,” I admitted, letting my guilt spill over.
He simply caressed my head, the gentleness of his touch making me melt a little more.
Then, as if he had read my thoughts, he pulled out another bag and carefully retrieved a packet of noodles.
“I tried to find alternatives, that’s why it took time,” he said softly, and I couldn’t stop myself from crying again.
I love him so much.
“I am sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said, smiling faintly as he kissed my forehead. “I’m a little upset that you lied, but I guess the craving just went to its peak, that’s why.”
He cupped my face in his hands, “Now stop crying. Look at these mangoes. Aren’t they beautiful? By the way they are sweet too.”
He brought my face down to the table and instantly, my mood swung.
The tears faded into laughter as I watched him cut the mangoes with an exaggerated seriousness, as if each slice were a work of art.
He glanced at me, noticing my stare.
“Stop staring at me,” he said with a playful smirk, his eyes sparkling.
“I’m just admiring my man,” I said, smiling back, unable to hide my affection.
He shook his head, passing me a slice of mango. I bit into it, savoring the sweetness, but something felt…off.
Something is missing. I realized, setting the slice down.
“Wait,” I said, standing suddenly and heading toward the kitchen, a mischievous glint in my eye.
I returned a moment later carrying a small plate. On it was a biscuit and mango sandwich, uneven and slightly messy, dipped halfway into Nutella. It looked odd, almost silly, but strangely comforting in a way I could not explain.
Vihaan studied it quietly before looking up at me.
“That is…new,” he said carefully, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“I know it looks strange,” I said softly as I sat beside him. “But it feels right good, look this is looking tempting.”
I took a bite, and a sense of calm settled over me. It was sweet, soft, and a little chocolaty, yet exactly what I needed.
He smiled faintly, watching me for a moment.
“If it makes you feel better, then that is all that matters,” he said gently, his voice warm.
After a brief pause, he reached out and broke off a small piece for himself. He tasted it slowly, thinking about it longer than necessary.
“It is different,” he said, then added with a small smile, “but not bad.”
“Better than pickle dipped in chocolate,” he added, and I laughed, remembering Prisha Bhabhi’s wild cravings.
I guess my craving isn’t that dangerous.
I laughed quietly and leaned into him. He slipped an arm around me and rested his hand over my belly with quiet familiarity.
I glanced at his phone and noticed that he had been looking up things like “cortisol”, “gustatory receptors” and “cephalgia.”
I smiled.
Then I saw his other searches….”alternatives to noodles,” complete with detailed notes in his notepad.
I shook my head at his adorable antics. And promising that i will never lie to him again, even for my cravings.
We both sat there, eating mango sandwiches and after finishing the sweet dessert, he pulled me into his arms and we went to bed, falling asleep with him holding me close.
Morning light is filtered through the curtains softly, the kind that doesn’t wake you up suddenly but invites you back into the world gently.
I woke up late.
Still in his arms.
His arm was wrapped around my waist, protective even in sleep. I stayed still for a moment feeling the warmth of him behind me.
Then I realised, he wasn’t asleep.
Vihaan was awake, sitting slightly upright, phone in his hand, eyes focused with complete seriousness.
The kind of concentration he usually reserves for work….or me.
I watched him quietly for a few seconds.
“What are you watching?” I asked, my voice was still heavy with sleep.
He didn’t answer right away, so I leaned closer and peeked at his phone. My lips curved into a small, soft smile.
A video was playing-how to safely hold a newborn baby.
“Are you seriously learning how to hold newborns?” I asked gently, trying not to laugh but failing a little.
He looked caught off guard, then rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed.
“I don’t know how, and I don’t want to be that father who’s scared to even hold his own child,” he admitted quietly.
I could see it in him. I have always known he feels deeply like this, so I understood completely.
I leaned in and kissed his forehead slowly.
“You’re already doing better than you think,” I said softly.
He smiled faintly, looking a little relieved.
“I can’t wait for the little one,” he said in a little excitement and almost dreamy voice.
He inhaled deeply, then rested his hand over my bump, his thumb moving in slow, careful circles and hold my hand in his other one.
“Ruh…I want to be there with you during the deli-,” he said quietly.
Before he could go any further, I said softly but firmly, “No.”
He blinked at me, clearly confused, “But… it’s allowed in some places, right?”
“Yes,” I nodded slowly, “but not for you.”
“Why?” he asked genuinely, tilting his head.
I cupped his cheek gently, my hand warmed against his skin, “You can’t even look at blood without feeling dizzy. Injections make you anxious. You get overwhelmed just standing near medical rooms. I don’t want you panicking there.”
He hugged me carefully, resting his forehead against mine. “I promise I’ll be okay,” he whispered.
I shook my head with a small smile. “No. You’ll wait outside. You don’t have to force yourself, I want you to be calm. Just be there for me and our baby.”
He nodded quietly, accepting it, though I could see he wanted to argue.
“Besides, mumma will be with me, so you don’t need to worry,” I added, making sure he understood. He nodded again, more relaxed this time.
Then his expression suddenly changed.
“Come. I want to show you something,” he said with that excited glint in his eyes.
He took my hand carefully and led me to the next room.
The nursery. He was decorating with so much dedication from last few weeks
I stopped breathing for a second, taking it all in.
The walls were painted a soft greyish-blue, balanced perfectly with white. Near the window, tiny orchid plants sat, fresh and alive. One wall was covered in butterflies and small cartoon stickers.
Then my eyes landed on the toys.
Animals. So many animals. A tiny little zoo. Elephants, lions, giraffes, even small little insect toys lined up neatly.
I looked at him, half laughing, half overwhelmed with emotion.
“Are you serious?” I asked, shaking my head.
He smiled shyly, “You love all kinds of animals and species. I thought… maybe our baby will too.”
I placed my hand on my belly, whispering softly, “Along with their father, because he is a unique species.”
He laughed quietly, the sound warm and happy.
He turned off the main lights.
The ceiling lit up with tiny glowing stars.
I gasped softly, looking up.
He came behind me, hugging me gently, one hand resting over my bump, the other holding me close.
“I want our baby to grow up surrounded by love,” he whispered, voice low.
I leaned back against him, covering his hand with mine.
He turned off a few more lights, and then soft little lights appeared across the ceiling.
Stars. Tiny, glowing stars, scattered gently above us.
I looked up, my breath catching. “Vihaan…” I whispered softly.
He came closer from behind, wrapping his arms carefully around me again, one hand over my bump, the other holding me close.
He bent slightly and kissed my belly again. I felt my heart swell in simple words.
He rested his forehead gently against the side of my head and spoke quietly, his voice soft but full of promise.
“I want our little star to shine in this universe,” he said, “not just up in the sky… but here, in our lives too.”
I swallowed hard, feeling something in my chest.
“To grow surrounded by love,” he continued, his thumb moving slowly over my bump. And then the baby kicked.
My eyes filled with tears.
“I want our child to have all the happiness we can give,” he whispered, voice soft, “and when the world feels too heavy, I want them to always find their way back to us-just like stars always find their way back to the sky.”
Suddenly, a memory hit me, sharp and heavy, pulling at a part of me I hadn’t touched in years. The same words… spoken long ago… but then, they carried a different meaning.
My fingers instinctively went to the pendant I was wearing, tracing it lightly as if it could hold all the fragments of that memory and the present together.
I covered his hand with mine and leaned back into him again.
“We already have our universe,” I said softly. “You.”
He kissed my hair gently, holding me close.
We stood there for a long time, under our tiny little sky, holding onto each other….and our little star…feeling ready for everything that was about to come.
I stepped out into the cool night air, trying to calm myself. My legs hurt from pacing the house, and my chest still throbbed from our latest argument.
Okay, so we argued again. At this point, I was convinced arguing was our love language.
I had set up a small office inside the house. Logical, right? I wanted to stay near her, keep an eye on her, and maybe, not drive her crazy while she was eight months pregnant.
But no.
Apparently, my logic annoyed her.
And cherry on the top…I ate her ice cream.
Why do I only create problems?
‘It’s okay, Vihu baby, it happens,’ my brain said nicely.
Shut up. Stupid brain of mine.
I walked down the street quietly, my hands in my pockets, when I heard footsteps behind me.
I stiffened and turned quickly, fully ready to fight as my fight-or-flight response kicked in.
A hand grabbed my arm.
“Have you lost your mind?” a grumpy voice shouted.
“Oh. It’s you,” I said.
Kunal jiju stood there, fixing his T-shirt. “You don’t look happy,” he asked, raising his one eyebrow.
“Excuse me,” I said seriously. “I only look happy when I am with my wife. And just to inform you…Ruh will not like you flirting with me. And you are a father of two. Please behave.”
He rolled his eyes, “You are more delusional than my son who thinks he can make Doraemon and bring back dinosaurs.”
“Relax. I am interested only in my biwi, not in coconut-head people,” He continued and looked at me with his robotic gaze.
I glared and muttered with a hint of teasing,”Then why are you here? Got thrown out already?”
“No! No way!” he stammered, adjusting his collar.
Ah. Caught him.
“You and your sister both cannot lie,” I said, shaking my head at his stuttering self. “So stop trying.”
He narrowed his eyes at me but then smirked, “Looks like you also don’t have a room tonight.”
“Your sister is stubborn and doesn’t listen,” I complained, rubbing my temple.
“I am sure you irritated her,” he said calmly. “You know how she is….give her space, or she will break your nose.”
‘She is 100 percent planning your murder right now,’ my brain slightly whispered.
And I nodded.
I looked at my balcony. Lights were on, door was locked and curtains are closed. Like a solid wall between me and her.
“So… Planning to climb to the balcony?” he asked.
“I would have climbed,” I sulked. “But she locked the balcony door.”
‘Even Veena aunty’s ladder is not with us now,’ my brain cried.
And i sulked. Knowing our precious ladder finally thrown out of the house.
Kunal jiju tilted his head, trying to acthelpful, “You could try the back kitchen window. It’s usually open. Easy access. I have used it myself-though that was ages ago.”
I stared at him, “Don’t you have any shame? You literally used to sneak into my sister’s room!”
He raised his hands, “Look who is saying, you literally entered my sister’s room when she was small. Where was your shame then? And she was a minor.”
“Excuse me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You were eighteen and she was still seventeen? That means she was a minor!” He said with that strict brother tone and shrugged his shoulders, as if giving me the scientific explanation.
And I looked at him, narrowing my eyes.
“You kissed my sister in the freaking parking lot-”
“Okay fine stop” he muttered, clearly embarrassed.
Finest. Comeback. Ever.
Wait.
No.
“Woh sab hataiye,” I said desperately. “Help your poor brother-in-law. Your sister is going to kill me.”
I hugged him.
“Maintain distance!” he shouted. “You coconut head, maintain distance!”
“How did you handle Prisha di?” I asked. “She is more dangerous than Ruh.”
“Too much struggle,” he said with pain.
“Do you want to drink?” I asked.
“What?” he yelled, slightly taken aback.
“Chai. I mean chai”
He relaxed, “Chai is fine. Therapy for married men.”
Soon we were sitting on a bench near the tea stall, chai in hand, looking broken.
“Bahut dukh hai duniya mein,” I said.
“Kuch zyada hi,” he agreed.
“Married life is a struggle.”
“More struggle than climbing Everest.”
I sighed, “Ruh threw me out today. Because I ate her ice cream. I didn’t even know it was hers.”
He sulked while sipping the tea, “Prisha punished me and threw me out of the house. I just said she shouldn’t come into the kitchen, as she was trying to cook but it was a disaster. According to her, I mocked her cooking skills. So here i am.”
I took a sip of chai, “Last night she sent me three streets away for chocolate pudding. When I came back, she wanted caramel.”
“These women cannot choose one flavour,” he said sadly. “Still wondering how my biwi chose me.”
I pointed out dramatically, “And cleaning! I try to help and suddenly I ruin everything. Like I just move one cushion and I am the villain.”
The tea stall uncle stared at us, as we both sighed.
“But I love my wife.”
“But i love my wife.”
We both said it at the same time and hugged each other.
“Us bro. Us.”
And then…
“Sahab, agar prem pradarshan khatam ho gaya ho, paise de dijiye!” the tea stall vendor said looking at us.
We jumped apart so fast it was awkward. I almost fell over myself. That’s embarrassing vihaan. How can I hug a grumpy robot.
My reputation is tarnished.
Kunal jiju handed him the money.
I pulled out my phone, pretending to scroll. Anything to avoid looking at the grumpy robot’s face.
Then my phone rang.
“Vihaan… it’s time,” Ruh’s voice said, sharp
I blinked, “Which time?”
“Bloody hell, stupid chimpanzee! Baby is coming! Come fast!” she yelled, and I swear I felt my brain short-circuit.
Baby.
Baby?
“The baby is coming,” I whispered to myself, my heart already pounding like a drum. My hands started sweating, my legs got numb as I forgot how to walk.
“Don’t faint!” Kunal jiju shouted, grabbing my shoulder, eyes wide with panic.
‘Faint? No. Cannot faint. Absolutely cannot faint. Vihaan Raichand, do NOT faint,’ my brain screamed.
“Get up, coconut head,” Kunal added, tugging my hand like he was dragging a reluctant child to the gallows.
“Let’s go!” I scrambled into the car, nearly tripping over my own feet.
I ran into the house as fast as I could, my heart beating wildly, because I was sure something was very wrong.
Mumma was already inside the living room.
Ruh was sitting on the sofa.
One of her hands was pressed tightly against her stomach, and the other was gripping the armrest so hard that I honestly thought it might crack if she tightened her fingers any more.
Her face looked stiff.
Extremely stiff.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I quickly moved closer and crouched in front of her, feeling worried and completely unprepared for whatever was happening.
She slowly lifted her eyes and looked straight at me.
Very slowly. And this scream danger.
“Do I look okay?” she snapped.
I immediately understood that I had asked the wrong question.
A very wrong question.
Before I could say anything else or apologize for speaking at all-
“BHAI!” she called her brother.
Kunal bhai appeared instantly, and was pulled in by responsibility and fear.
“Calm down, Ruhii, but the moment he looked at her, his face turned serious.
“Vihaan,” he said firmly, “go and get the necessary things. Quickly.”
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” I replied while nodding too much and ran towards the bedroom.
My hands were shaking as I grabbed a bag.
Necessary items.
I picked up clothes.
I picked up hospital papers.
I picked up my phone charger.
Water bottle, slippers, some cash, and a few comfort items.
Then I picked up snacks.
I stopped for a second and stared at the snacks.
‘Vihaan Raichand are you going to a hospital or going on a trip?,’ my brain scolded me.
Yeah right.
I threw everything into the bag without checking anything properly and rushed back out. By the time I returned, Ruh was standing with difficulty and leaning heavily on Kunal bhai for support.
I slammed the necessary items into the trunk, grabbed the car keys, snatched the bag, and bolted outside.
I threw myself into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and tore off before I could think twice.
One full minute passed.
Then it hit me.
Then suddenly my brain started working properly.
And it panicked.
“IDIOT. WHERE IS YOUR WIFE.”
I slammed the brakes so hard that the car jerked.
“What is wrong with you, Vihaan,” I muttered to myself as I reversed the car as fast as I could.
When I reached back, Ruh and Kunal jiju were standing at the gate.
They were staring at me. Judging me very silently.
“Bloody stupid husband of mine,” Ruh snapped angrily.
“Did you go alone for the delivery?” Kunal bhai asked calmly. “Did you think the baby would arrive by courier?”
“I panicked,” I replied softly, knowing there was no defense for this.
“Is this the time to panic?” Ruh shouted, her voice filled with pain and anger.
She was right.
I deserved that.
“Baby, please come out peacefully,” Ruh said through clenched teeth while holding her stomach, “then I will wash your papa like dirty clothes, right here, with my own hands! I will knead him, scrub him, rinse him, and fold him neatly. Maybe even hang him out to dry if he keeps making me suffer.”
“Yes,” Kunal bhai said seriously. “I will gift her a branded washing machine.”
I stared at him in shock.
“I mean,” he added quickly, “so she can put him inside properly and it will go round and round-“
“BHAI!” Ruh shouted again.
“Sorry. Sorry. Let’s go,” he said immediately.
“Mujhe mumma ke paas le chaliye,” Ruh said sharply. “Aap dono bas khade rehna yehi par, dhundho washing machine. Nikamme Homo sapiens”
“What are you both doing?” Adhya mumma scolded us. “Go with her.”
Kunal jiju moved to the driver’s seat.
“Mumma, you sit in front. Vihaan, you will not drive. You sit with her.”
I followed his instructions without any argument. My survival instincts were fully active.
In the backseat, Ruh was sweating and breathing heavily. Her face showed clear pain that came and went.
“Ruh-” I started.
“Don’t you dare to say a word, Vihaan,” she warned me immediately.
She grabbed my hand tightly, so tightly that my fingers began to hurt.
“Ruhii, take long breaths,” Kunal jiju said gently from the front. “Inhale and then exhale slowly.”
She did as he said. Then she turned her face away from me. Which was probably a wise decision.
“Should I count?” I asked nervously. “People usually count, right? To distract….”
“If you count,” she said very calmly, “I will count how many punches I give you later.”
Kunal jiju looked at us through the mirror shaking his head in pure panic. “Just focus on breathing,” he said. “Nothing else.”
Ruh took another breath.
And i also take another deep breath.
Then she looked at me suddenly.
“Why are you breathing louder than me?” she asked.
“I am nervous,” I answered honestly.
She looked at me and muttered, “You’re making me more nervous.”
Another wave of pain hit her and she dug her nails into my arm.
I stayed quiet.
“Ruh, just think about something else,” I said desperately. “Close your eyes and imagine a calm place like a beach.”
“What do you see?” I asked gently.
She replied immediately, “I see myself drowning you because you are irritating me.”
I swallowed hard.
“Baby, please calm down,” I said, holding her hand more tightly. “And please do not give your mumma ideas to kill me.”
She did not answer, but her grip became tighter.
“So,” I tried again carefully, “do you remember that restaurant we went to last year? The one with bad service but good food?”
She looked at me. “Vihaan,” she said slowly, “Vihaan, one day I’m going to explain how good food tastes right after I turn you into bharta.”
“Ruh, mere bharta ka pata nhi…” Before i could continue.
She spun around, clearly irritated, “Pata hai mujhe. Aloo ka bharta mast lagta hai but I’ll make sure to mash you very nicely.”
Another wave of pain came and she groaned, turning her face away and breathing heavily.
I stayed silent for a few seconds.
Five seconds passed.
Ten seconds passed.
I could not handle it.
“Okay, but if you do-“
“VIHAAN.”
“Sorry.”
Shut up Vihaan.
She closed her eyes again and breathed slowly. Everything felt tense and serious.
I moved closer, gently pulled her towards me, and held her properly, resting her head on my shoulder.
“I am with you,” I said softly.
She nodded slightly without opening her eyes.
“Stay like this with me,” she whispered. She moved closer, resting her head on my shoulder as her fingers slipped into mine. I held her, rubbing her hand and softly caressing her hair.
And I stayed there, holding her hand tightly ready to stay silent for as long as she needed.
We reached the hospital in a blur. Kunal bhai drove steadily while Ruh breathed heavily beside me, each wave of pain making her wince. I held her hand tightly, refusing to let go, my heart hammering so fast I thought it might burst.
Mumma followed closely, standing just behind us. Even though everyone at home had been informed, I still felt tense, walking into a place full of unknowns.
The moment we stepped inside, the hospital staff took charge. Nurses guided Ruh quickly, checking her vitals and helping her onto a wheelchair. Kunal bhai stayed by her side, whispering calm words, while I trailed behind.
A few minutes later, Ruh was wheeled into the delivery room.
A nurse handed me a form.
“Sir, please fill this out quickly,” she said.
I nodded numbly and moved to the waiting area. My chest felt tight, my hands shook, and I could barely breathe.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly.
Every few seconds, I whispered under my breath, “Please… be okay… both of you… please…”
Kunal jiju sat beside me, resting a firm hand on my shoulder.
“Vihaan, calm down,” he said quietly. “It’s normal to be scared, but panicking won’t help.”
“I… I can’t help it,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I am scared. I can’t imagine anything happening to Ruh or our baby.”
Kunal jiju squeezed my shoulder gently. “Listen to me. Everything is going to be fine. Ruhii is strong and she won’t like when she gets to know you are panicking. Just sit here, breathe and don’t forget, she is not alone. Mom is with her inside.”
Even thinking about her pain made my chest tighten further. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, though my heart raced and my thoughts were a storm.
“Vihu, calm down,” Mumma said softly, resting her hand lightly on my shoulder. I tried to follow her advice, forcing myself to breathe, but imagining anything happening to her was impossible.
Hours passed. I paced, my chest tight, hands shaking uncontrollably. Every time the door opened, my stomach flipped.
Twelve hours.
Twelve long hours of her being inside. I sat outside the room, feeling like time had frozen.
Finally, the door opened. Ruh’s mother stepped out first, her face pale but carrying a relieved expression. I practically ran to her.
“How is my Ruh? Is she okay? Can I see her?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“She’s completely fine,” her mother said softly. “We’ are shifting her to the ward, then you can meet her.”
Even tired, her eyes held a hint of the worry she’d felt earlier, she was a mother before a doctor, after all.
“And our baby?” I asked immediately, holding my breath.
She looked at me and smiled gently, “Your little girl is perfectly fine. We ran some tests, and you’ll meet her very soon.”
Relief washed over me like a wave. I could finally breathe.
Little girl…it’s a girl.
I smiled as mumma hugged me.
“Can I see Ruh now, please?” I asked again, desperate.
Her mother nodded, and I hurried into the room.
There she was…Ruh, lying on the hospital bed, exhausted but safe. I went to her and gently held her hand. She looked at me and chuckled, even with the pain etched on her face.
“Gosh, look at you,” she said weakly, smiling.
“You seem more panicked than me, ” She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them to meet mine, her hazel-brown eyes tired but soft.
I sanitized my hands and held her hand again. She gave a small laugh at my nervous antics and squeezed my hand in return.
“You don’t know how scared I was,” I admitted, my voice breaking slightly. “Trust me, Ruh….meri Ruh nikal gayi thi.”
She tried to sit up, her energy weak, and I moved closer immediately.
“Come here,” she said, pulling me into a hug. I held her close, feeling the exhaustion in her body and the warmth of her presence.
I rested my forehead against hers, breathing slowly, trying to absorb that she was finally safe. I didn’t want to let go. Not now. Not ever.
“I was scared too, you know,” she said quietly. “Twelve hours inside… and being a doctor didn’t help. I kept remembering cases, and nothing was calming me down. I was really scared, Vihaan.”
I listened silently, holding her hand a little tighter.
“You scared me so much,” I whispered, my voice trembling.
Ruh gave me a weak, teasing smile.
“Really? And here I thought you were supposed to be the calm, strong husband,” she said softly but playfully.
“I… I was worried! You were in pain, and I had no idea what to do!” I admitted, chest tight. “You can’t imagine what it felt like… not knowing if everything was okay.”
She chuckled softly, shaking her head, “Vihaan, I get it. Believe me, I felt every second too. Exhausted, scared… imagining every worst-case scenario. Probably exactly what you were imagining.”
“But everything is fine now,” she added, smiling. “I’m fine, and our little daughter is fine too.”
I stayed hugging her carefully, not wanting to hurt her. She kissed my forehead, ruffling my hair softly.
After a long pause, she whispered, “Can you… just hold me for a while? I need you.”
I tightened my arms around her. “Always,” I murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”
We stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other. I felt the exhaustion of the past hours melt away in the warmth of her presence.
Every small squeeze of the hand made the room feel like the coziest place in the world.
And for the first time in hours, I felt my heart truly settle knowing they were both safe and that nothing else mattered right now except being here, together.
The door opened, and Ankita Mumma entered, cradling our daughter in a soft pink blanket. My heart fluttered, my pulse racing uncontrollably. Our daughter… finally here, right in front of me.
“Mumma, how is she?” Ruh asked softly, her eyes wide with anticipation and love.
“Here she is,” she said softly. “She’s healthy and strong.”
Ruh held her close, her heart racing.
“Her vitals are normal,” ankita mumma continued. “I’ve done all the routine tests, reflexes, everything looks perfect.”
I just sat there, staring. I couldn’t fully see her tiny little face yet, but even wrapped in that blanket, she looked unbelievably small. Fragile. Precious.
My heart swelled so much it almost felt heavy, as if it couldn’t contain everything I was feeling.
Ruh leaned forward slightly.
“Ruhii, handle her carefully,” ankita mumma instructed gently.
Ruh nodded, signaling me to help her, and carefully took our daughter into her arms. Tears slipped down Ruh’s cheeks, silent and uncontrollable. Without thinking, I reached out and brushed them away.
“Hi, baby…” Ruh whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “This is your Mumma.”
She pulled our daughter closer, shielding her tiny body instinctively, as if the world itself needed to be kept away.
I just sat beside them, watching…my wife, my daughter….both of my girls.
My whole world is right in front of me, and nothing else feels important anymore.
“Doctor Ankita,” a nurse called from outside.
“I’ll be back, Ruhii,” she said softly.
Ruh nodded, not once lifting her gaze from our daughter.
“Aww…” Ruh murmured, smiling faintly as she watched the tiny fingers curl around the blanket, the small movements, the soft little sounds.
Then she looked at me.
“Vihaan,” she called gently, her eyes full of warmth. “Won’t you hold our daughter?”
Fear hit me instantly.
“Ruh… I am scared,” I admitted quietly. “She’s so tiny… so fragile. What if I hurt her?”
Ruh smiled softly and shifted closer, bringing our daughter nearer to me.
“Well,” she whispered, “I think your daughter wants her father. And I’m right here with you.”
She guided me to sit properly beside her.
“Just relax,” she said calmly. “Hold her head like this and support her body like this.”
I took a slow, shaky breath, letting Ruh’s calm wash over me.
“She’s your daughter, Vihaan,” Ruh whispered. “You have learned this. You don’t need to be scared.”
Very carefully, I took her into my arms.
For the first time I held a newborn in my hand and that is my daughter.
The moment she was in my arms, time slowed, guarding something too precious to rush.
She was impossibly small. Her eyes were closed, her lips soft and delicate like Ruh’s, her tiny hands curled into little fists. She wiggled slightly, stretching as if adjusting to the world, then settled quietly against my chest.
I couldn’t stop staring.
The gentle rise and fall of her chest. The faint warmth of her body. The tiny tuft of hair on her head. She felt so light, yet the weight she placed on my heart was overwhelming.
I traced her fingers with my thumb, stunned by how something so small could feel so precious.
I didn’t realise that I was crying.
“Vihaan,” Ruh whispered softly, wiping away my tears with her thumb.
I didn’t even realize I was crying.
“Look at her, Ruh,” I whispered. “Look at her tiny fingers… her little nose….She’s like a star. Like she’s glowing right here in our universe.”
Ruh leaned her head on my shoulder and smiled. My heart just kind of squeezed.
“I just can’t believe how small she is,” I whispered. “And yet… every little movement she makes fills my heart completely. It’s like she arrived carrying all the love in the world.”
I lowered my voice and whispered to her, as if she could understand every word.
“Hi, baby… I am your Dad. I know I might be a little stupid sometimes,” I murmured with a soft smile. “But thank you for coming into my life. Just like your mother, you’ve made my life so beautiful already.”
She stirred slightly, her tiny fingers tightening around mine, and warmth flooded through me. I memorized every detail, the curve of her cheek, the softness of her skin, the faint sounds she made in her sleep.
Hours passed, but I didn’t move. I didn’t want to.
Later that night, the lights dimmed. I sat quietly in the hospital room, our daughter sleeping in a crib beside Ruh, while she was resting, exhaustion finally catching up to her. I kept tracing our daughter’s tiny fingers again and again, afraid I might forget even one detail.
“What are you doing?” Ruh murmured sleepily, her eyes half-closed.
“I am just…admiring my girls,” I whispered.
Ruhβs lips curved in a small smile as she turned away and closed her eyes.
And I just sat there, watching both of them-my wife, my daughter-my whole world resting peacefully in front of me.
β’β’β’β’β’
Three days later, we arrived at the house with our daughter. Kunal jiju was holding her carefully, rocking her gently in his arms. And I swear, I saw a rare, natural smile on his face. I had to blink twice, I thought I was hallucinating.
I helped Ruh inside. She needed a little extra care after the ride, and I could feel the excitement buzzing in the air already.
And then…boom! The moment we stepped in, everyone was waiting, barely hiding their impatience. The house was decorated with balloons, little toys, and neatly wrapped gifts stacked everywhere.
“Ruhii!” Vani and Tanya ran forward, practically jumping on her and hugging her tight.
Ruh laughed softly, hugging them back.
“Congratulations!” they both shouted at the same time.
I chuckled quietly. This was like walking into a live comedy show. Because they both are clowns!
“Buaaa…” Atharv whispered, tiptoeing slowly, like he might accidentally hurt her. Ruh immediately reached out hugging them. Aarvi grabbed her tiny legs.
Yash rushed over and picked Aarvi up in his arms so she could finally see Ruh.
“Baby,” Aarvi poked her tiny finger toward me, and I chuckled.
“I become big brother again. I need to protect both my sisters now! Double responsibility!” Atharv whispered, puffing out his chest like a tiny knight.
“Yes, my little tornado,” Ruh said, laughing.
“Now, you guys will stand there or come inside?” Dad asked, raising an eyebrow.
I shook my head, knowing this chaos was only beginning.
Our fathers, Akshat papa and Dad, both rushed forward, practically fighting over who could hug her first.
“She looks so calm, doesn’t she? Almost angelic, like her Dadu,” Dad started, smiling softly.
“Keep living in your delusion,” Akshat Papa said with a grin. “She’s going to love her Nanu just as much… maybe even more!”
Meanwhile, everyone else was whispering excitedly, planning gifts and decorations.
“Vani, we need to get her a cute little castle,” Tanya said seriously.
“I’ll buy her some baby wardrobes too. My little angel and I will slay together!” Vani said, puffing out her chest.
“Miss Angry Bird, she’s barely a week old. Do we really need to plan a wardrobe already?” Siddharth said dramatically.
“Of course we do!” Tanya said, fanning herself. “She deserves the best!”
“Yes, she’s the first child in our group. She needs to be pampered the most,” Yash said, grinning, and our little girl wiggled in response in a slow manner.
“Ruh, I think everyone’s gone crazy,” I whispered.
“Honestly, I am loving them,” she chuckled, sitting down.
And I hugged her.
Prisha di leaned over with Aarvi on her lap, pointing at the baby.
“Mumma… look! Baby… she wants a toy… I’ll share it with her,” she said, and everyone cooed.
Our daughter sat quietly amidst all the chaos, just observing.
“I think she looks like Ruhii,” Prisha di said, squinting.
“Right! She completely took our Ruhii’s features, not her dumb father,” Kunal jiju teased, and I glared at him, pretending to be offended.
My little baby wiggled but didn’t cry.
“Aww… she agreed!” Kunal jiju said, laughing.
“You coconut head, see? She’s already smiling at her mamu. Clearly, you’re not interesting enough,” he teased.
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head, Kunal jiju. She’ll get bored of you in five minutes. You can’t be a cool mamu like me,” I shot back.
“We’ll see. I have better magic to win the kids over,” he grinned.
I guess he started to like me.
“I was right! Both sister and brother are witches….they knew red, blue, green magic,” I murmured.
“Kuch kaha tumne?” Ruh glared at me.
“kuch suna aapne,” I said and she squinted her eyes at me.
I chuckled and kissed the corner of her lips. She blushed furiously and looked sideways to make sure no one saw.
Mumma came over and patted my shoulder.
“Now, Vihu…you need to be more responsible,” she said. I nodded sheepishly.
“Yes, be ready for sleepless nights and learning how to handle a baby,” Dad joked.
Ruh stood with her parents, resting her head on Dad’s shoulder, enjoying the moment. I couldn’t stop staring.
I loved seeing her so relaxed.
Meanwhile, Tanya and Yash were bickering over gifts.
“She’ll love the soft toy more!” Yash insisted.
“No! The castle will be better!” Tanya argued.
Vani tried to calm everyone down, whispering to Siddharth, “How do you think she’ll react to the new colorful clothes? I guess she’ll like pastel colors, soft like her mother.”
Siddharth just smiled and nodded whatever Vani was saying.
Ruh looked around at everyone, smiling, tired but happy.
“They are all cute,” she whispered.
“But you are the most beautiful,” I whispered, and she blushed deeply.
Four days later, we held the naming ceremony at home. Everyone was present this time. Aashi and Varun couldn’t make it earlier, so they were finally here today. And Maasi is on video call today.
Ruh looked beautiful, even though she needed rest. She wore a soft, baby-pink anarkali dress that flowed gently around her. My little girl was lying in her crib, kicking her tiny legs, giggling, and occasionally starting her crying sessions, as if reminding us she was the boss.
I went to Ruh and kissed her neck softly.
“Thank you, Ruh,” I murmured, holding her hand.
“For what?” she asked, smiling softly.
“For coming into my life and blessing me with our little star,” I whispered, kissing her forehead. She leaned against me, and I wrapped my arms around her.
She cleared her throat pointing at something.
“Adrak wali chai ki tarah kadak lag rahi ho,” I teased, pressing my forehead against hers as we laughed, our noses brushing.
She laughed softly, her eyes sparkling, and leaned closer. I could feel the warmth of her breath, the soft curve of her lips brushing mine. I deepened the kiss gently, letting my hand cradle the back of her head, feeling her respond with a playful, teasing sigh.
Just as our lips parted for a breath, she grinned against mine, nuzzling briefly before pulling back slightly and then a tiny, insistent cry reminded us of reality.
“I guess our daughter needs me,” she said with a laugh, her cheeks still flushed from the kiss, and I just nodded.
I went downstairs and the living room was chaotic. Vani and Yash were already bickering over who would hold her first.
They are always fighting.
Tanya and Siddharth just shook their heads and started putting things back together, trying to make sense of the mess ignoring their partners.
Maasi couldn’t come, but she sent her love and blessings for our daughter.Β I was missing her so much.
Then I heard the soft sound of footsteps from upstairs.
Ruh came downstairs, holding our daughter carefully in her arms. My heart started racing again just looking at them.
She looked tired but radiant, glowing in a way only a mother could after carrying life inside her. And our baby…..our tiny little girl…swaddled in a soft blanket, her small fingers curled.
Ruh sat beside me as the ceremony began. I carefully balanced our daughter on my lap, feeling her tiny movements against my chest.
She kicked softly and let out little coos in the middle of all the chaos around us. I couldn’t help but smile, completely mesmerized by her.
Every little sound, every tiny movement, felt like magic.
The ceremony went on quietly, the blessings flowing.
After the required ceremony, Atharv shouted, “Buaa, tell us her name!” bouncing on his toes.
“Yes, baby name…!” Aarvi added, clapping in Kunal.jiju’s lap.
Ruh and I shared a quiet look. I held our little girl gently, brushing her soft small hair from her forehead.
The family leaned in, eyes wide, some holding their hands over their mouths, some whispering guesses.
Ruh bent down slightly toward our daughter, and in a soft, loving voice whispered, “Her name is….
“Rivanshi.”
“Rivanshi Ruhanika Vihaan Raichand.”
There was a moment of stunned silence and then everyone erupted.
“Aww!” Prisha di squealed, holding Aarvi closer.
“Hii, Rivanshi!” Atharv shouted.
“Ivanshi,” Aarvi gibbered, her words all jumbled, making everyone laugh.
I scooped Rivanshi into my arms, holding her close. She snuggled against my chest, tiny fingers curling around mine, her little sighs warm and soft.
Ruh held my arm and looked at me.
The room was full of noise and laughter, and I loved our small little world in the middle of it.
Click.
Yash clicked our picture together.
I leaned my head against hers, feeling the soft rise and fall of her breathing, our daughter nestled between us. For a while, no one else existed. Just the three of us, warm, calm, and completely at peace.
One Month Later-
One month of soft chaos. Sleepless nights, broken sleep, sudden cries that woke our hearts before our eyes. Life feels slower now, quieter in a different way.
Rivanshi stirred beside us, not fully asleep.
Her amber-brown eyes opened slowly not fully, warm and soft. She looked at me like she was trying to place me in her small world.
I leaned closer without thinking.
“Hi,” I whispered. “You woke up again?”
She looked like a smaller version of Ruh. I smiled without realizing it.
“Why are you staring at me like that, hm?” I whispered. “I know, I know… you’re thinking how handsome your father is.”
Her lips curved into a small, uneven smile. A tiny giggle escaped from her.
She stared again, now looking at me a little bit serious, as if observing her stupid father.
“You know,” I murmured softly, “one look from you makes my whole day better. Even when I’m tired, even when my eyes won’t open properly.”
Her lips twitched, not a full smile, just a soft little curve.
Ruh noticed and leaned closer, smiling gently. “She likes listening to you.”
“Of course she does,” I whispered back. “Like her mother.”
Her eyes stayed on mine, wide and steady.
“You look just like your mumma,” I continued softly. “Those big eyes, those soft cheeks, even that tiny pout.” I smiled and lightly caressed her cheeks.
“And the stubbornness,” I added quietly.
Ruh smirked at me, “I heard that but I am very happy my baby took my genes very seriously.”
I mimicked her tone, making her laugh softly, but my little star made a tiny sound, her fingers brushing against my hand. I let her hold my finger.
“You don’t even know yet,” I whispered to Rivanshi, “how much happiness you bring just by being here.”
Her eyes slowly softened, growing heavy. Looks like someone is tired.
Aww!! My baby is so cute and adorable.
I leaned closer and whispered gently, “I promise I’ll always be there for you…protect you, my little star.”
We pulled the scrapbook closer, opening it gently between us. The pages were warm with memories, photographs, tiny notes, dates written in tired handwriting.
Ruh pointed at a picture and whispered, “This was Rivanshi’s first night at home.”
I added a small note beneath it, writing slowly. We decided to make a scrapbook of this because Ruh liked this and me too. I want to keep all our happy moments here, in these pages, so we can come back to them whenever we want.
Rivanshi moved her legs softly, brushing the page, as if she wanted to be part of it.
“You already are,” I whispered. “Every page is you in our life.”
Ruh carefully lifted her and placed her in the crib beside our bed. Rivanshi turned slightly, then slept peacefully.
We closed the scrapbook and placed it in the cupboard, safe.
Ruh leaned into me, tired but calm. I wrapped my arm around her, holding her close.
I looked once more, at my daughter sleeping softly, and at my wife resting quietly beside me.
My two girls.
I hugged Ruh a little tighter, holding her close to my heart, and whispered softly,
“I wish our universe always stays like this.”
She smiled against my chest.
Outside, the world went on, but in that little cocoon of warmth, love, and tiny baby breaths, nothing else mattered.
This was home.
———————————-
Missed me ??π€
So how was the chapter ??
Your favourite scene??
Mine was when Vihaan held his daughter in his arms π₯Ήπ
Now eol has ended officially!!π«
Will post bonus chapters after I start other characters books.
Ahh they become parents now π can’t believe they both were just kids who just claim to hate each other.
And sorry to update this late maine late likhna start kia tha and then mera laptop kharab ho gaya ππβπ»
Khair Enjoy Reading β€οΈ
Will meet directly in August hopefully with a new book π
Hoping this year brings me what I want and to publish one more book..!!
Bye Cutiepies…!!!π
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