two years later

ADHVAIT’S POV

“You know, and then she was like, ‘Aren’t you forced to be with your husband forever?’ Like, what the hell?” she said, brushing her hair in the mirror.

“Really?” I asked exasperatedly, leaning against the headboard while watching my wife get ready and rant early in the morning about her US friend she had reconnected with.

“Yeah, really,” she replied, making a comical exasperated expression.

“Fir kya hua?” I asked eagerly.

(Then what happened?)

“Fir kya, maine toh bol dia maybe your husband wasn’t a forever kind of person. I’d love to be with my husband forever. But you know uske baad kya boli woh kalmuhi?” she said, pointing her brush at me like it was a sword..

(Then what, I told her, maybe your husband wasn't a forever kind of person. I'd love to be with my husband forever. But you know what that bitch said after that?)

“Kya boli woh kalmuhi?” I asked, widening my eyes.

(What did she say?)

“Kehti hai, ‘Such a fool in love.’” she replied, glaring at her hairbrush like she was planning its murder.

(She said, 'such a fool in love.')

“Haww, batao!” I gasped dramatically, clutching my chest like a tragic actor.

(Haww.)

“Or ni toh kya,” she sighed, sticking out a pout so exaggerated it almost made me laugh.

(Exactly.)

“Aww, my jaan, forget about it. Aap apne husband ko attention dedo,” I teased, opening my arms wide. She gave in instantly, hugging me with a happy sigh.

(You just give attention to your husband.)

“You know woh chidchidi billi ka pati usko chhod kar bhaag gaya tha, isliye woh aisi hai,” she murmured after a moment of silence.

(You know that irritated cat's husband ran away, that's why she's like this.)

I gasped theatrically, and we both burst into laughter loud enough to echo in our silent room.

“Aur–” she began, but her phone rang, abruptly cutting off her monologue. I chuckled softly and ran my fingers through her hair.

(And-)

SUNAINA’S POV. 

“Hello ma’am, my apologies for disturbing you on a Sunday, but I just received a call from that minister’s assistant about the rescheduling of tomorrow's meeting,” Sona’s voice came from the other side.

“No problem, Sona, go ahead,” I said, smiling at my husband, who was gently caressing my head.

“Ma’am, they wanted to reschedule the meeting to Tuesday because tomorrow he needs to go plant some trees for his party,” she said hesitantly.

“Tuesday? But I have an important event that day,” I said. Ved’s hand stilled for a moment before continuing.

“Give me a few minutes, I’ll let you know,” I said, ending the call after her positive response.

“The meeting with that minister?” Ved asked softly. I hummed, typing quickly on my phone.

I instructed my assistant to cancel the meeting and also let the minister know– I am not some man with a pregnant belly who’ll work at his pace. I am a qualified lawyer, and I work only with professionalism. Last-minute reschedules will not be tolerated from my side.

“It’s okay, jaan. That’s an important meeting. You should agree to the reschedule,” he said, his expression carefully neutral.

“Acha? And what about the opening ceremony?” I asked, raising my brows at him.

(Oh?)

“What about it? Opening ceremony hi toh hai. Your career is important too,” he said with a casual shrug.

( It's just an opening ceremony.)

“I cancelled it,” I said firmly.

“Wha–” He began, but I cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips.

“Aapke liye hogi sirf opening ceremony, mere liye mere pati ki 2 saal ki mehnat hai, uske sapne hai jispar usne apna sab kuch laga dia. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Nothing matters but you.”

(Maybe it's just an opening ceremony for you, but for me it's my husband's 2 years of hardwork, his dreams- on which he had given his all.)

His eyes softened. “Itna pyaar karti ho aap mujhse?” he asked with a faint smile.

(You love me that much?)

I kissed his forehead gently and whispered, “Isse kayi jyada.”

(More than anything.)

“Chalo bas hogya, chachu chachi and Pari aane wale honge. Get up and shower,” I said, pulling away from him with a teasing smile.

(That's enough,chachu Chachi and pari must be coming soon.)

He sighed dramatically, muttering, “Meri biwi hi romance ni karne deti aur toh kya hi bolu,” but left anyway. I chuckled at his words and went to check the breakfast preparations, my heart bursting with happiness, something that's been happening since the day I married him.

(My own wife doesn't let me romance what else I can even say.)

ADHVAIT’S POV

“Sir, everything is ready. Your family has been escorted to the family lounge, and your wife is looking for you,” the organiser informed me as I excused myself from the guests.

“Escort her here, please. I’ll be waiting,” I replied, quickly dropping a text to my jaan. I would have gone to her myself if only I could slip away from here.

“Congratulations on your success, Adhvait,” someone said behind me. I turned, only to find my wife’s cousin–Kiraya, or was it Kabara?

“Uh… you are?” I asked, taking a few steps back as her perfume nearly made me sneeze.

“Oh, how funny–I’m Kimaya,” she fake–chuckled, raising her hand as if to slap my bicep. Thankfully, I stepped back in time.

“I don’t remember inviting you,” I said, uncertain, racking my brain to recall the guest list.

“Oh, I came with Viren uncle and Shobha aunty, especially for you,” she said, leaning closer. Can this woman back the hell off? Why is she intruding on my space?

“Oh, there–my wife is here,” I said quickly, spotting my jaan, and walked straight to her.

“Thank God you’re here. Save me from this chipkali, please,” I muttered, flashing a sarcastic smile in Kiraya’s direction.

(Lizard.)

“Don’t worry, I got you,” she chuckled, slipping her hand onto my bicep as I instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Oh hey, Kimaya. I see you’ve already met my husband,” she said, giving her a practiced fake smile, one that could make any cemented face shiver.

“Sure did. Excuse me,” Kimaya muttered, rolling her eyes before walking off. I released a long breath, earning a quiet chuckle from my wife.

That’s when my eyes lingered on her–the way her ball gown hugged her figure, making her look absolutely breathtaking.

“Aapko pata hai, aapko dekh kar mere mann mei kya khayal aya?” I muttered, leaning closer to her.

(You know after looking at you, what thought came into my mind?)

“Kya khayal aaya?” she whispered, her soft smile enough to undo me.

(What?)

“Tera piya itna haseen, kaise? Mujhse ye pooche aaina.

Mera bhi hai kya hi naseeb, ke ab bhi yakeen aaye na.”

My voice dropped as I gazed into her eyes, inching closer.

(How's your love so beautiful?asks the mirror.

What a tragedy, I can't even believe it.?

“Shh… we’re in public,” she whispered, gently pushing my face away, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

“Teen saal hone aaye hain, aur aap ab bhi aise sharma jaati ho, jaan. Aur mera dil har baar haar jata hai issi par, aaj bhi,” I murmured, kissing her forehead softly. Her blush only deepened.

(Almost three years of our marriage and you still blush like this, and I lose my heart to it every time,)

“Ahem, ahem–I hope we’re not interrupting?” someone said, breaking the moment.

“No, absolutely not, sir. Thank you for coming. Please, make yourself comfortable,” I replied, flashing my practiced smile. After a few minutes of small talk, the guests drifted toward the snacks.

“Sir, it’s time,” the organiser reminded me. I nodded, instructing him to escort my family. Meanwhile, I took a deep breath to calm the storm in my chest.

“Relax, Ved. Everything’s going perfectly,” she whispered, her thumb brushing over my hand in gentle reassurance.

“I’m nervous,” I admitted, my eyes blurring with unshed tears.

“Ayye, look here,” she coaxed. I lifted my gaze to her, just as she tiptoed, and my hands instinctively steadied her waist to keep her from stumbling.

“We are proud of you, no matter what,” she whispered, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. I exhaled slowly, my chest finally easing, and nodded with a genuine smile.

“Let’s go. Everyone’s waiting,” she added. I nodded and followed her to where my family stood, their faces glowing with pride.

Everyone was there–Chachu, Chachi, Priyu di and Avinash, Devesh and Nishita bhabhi, Ashu and Nivedh, Pari, and our little ones. Only my sister was missing, caught up in an important investigation.

She squeezed my hand gently before leaving to stand with the rest of the family. Taking a steadying breath, I accepted the mic from the organiser, who patted my back before returning to his seat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for blessing me with your presence on this very special day,” I began, scanning the room as applause and smiles surrounded me.

“I won’t take much of your time, but I must thank the people without whom this accomplishment would’ve been impossible. My Chachu–my rock through this journey. My Chachi–for her warmth and her words that held me up on days I felt like giving up. My best friends, more like brothers–Avinash, Devesh, and Nivedh–who stood by me like three unshakable pillars. My sisters–Priyu di, Nishita bhabhi, Ashu, Eshu, Pari–who never let the bills stop, because honestly, they could’ve bankrupted me in a week if I dared to slow down.”

The hall erupted in laughter, my family laughing through teary smiles.

“My parents,” I continued, my voice wavering, “whose legacy I’ve been trying to carry forward. Mumma, Papa… I hope I’m making you proud.” I looked up, chuckling softly through the tears threatening to fall.

“And last, but the most important person in this journey–my wife, Sunaina Vashisht Mehra. My jaan. She saw it all–the breakdowns, the doubts, the frustrations–and yet, she never gave up on me, nor did she ever let me give up on myself. Every day I came home with problems, every day she welcomed me with love that only grew stronger. And somehow, with her ‘magical’ simple solutions, all my worries faded. Naina, my jaan, I love you beyond words. Without you, none of this would have been possible. Ladies and gentlemen, the very first hotel of the NAIN Group of Hotels dedicated solely to her–my jaan.”

With that, I stepped off the stage and into her arms. The crowd erupted into cheers around us, but all I felt was her.

“I love you… so much,” she whispered, her tears soaking into my shoulder. I kissed the side of her neck softly, holding her closer, tighter, as though she might vanish.

After a moment, she gently pulled back, smiling through her tears and nodding for me to continue.

“Right,” I cleared my throat, brushing away the tears that had slipped past my guard. “I would like to invite my Chachu and Chachi to cut the ribbon and officially inaugurate the hotel.”

They looked at me in surprise, but I nodded, smiling softly. Together, they walked up, accepted the scissors, and cut the ribbon, while the hall filled with applause.

“I am proud of you, my boy,” Chachu said, hugging me with a radiant smile.

“So proud of you, baccha,” Chachi added, cupping my cheek with trembling hands, her eyes glistening.

Together, jaan and I bent to take their blessings, and with soft smiles, they embraced us before moving on to greet the guests.

The evening blurred into laughter, gratitude, and countless thank-yous. Hours later, the guests departed, and we finally returned home, our hearts full.

“It was a success, wasn’t it?” I asked, unclasping my watch as we entered our room.

“Ved,” came her voice, soft yet carrying a weight that made me turn instantly.

She nodded when I raised a brow, her nervousness clear,“Will you come with me?”

“Where, jaan?” I asked, walking toward her and taking her cold, delicate hands in mine.

“To Ma and Pa’s room,” she whispered, her eyes searching mine.

“Of course, let’s go. But first–you’re tired. Freshen up, hmm?” I said, brushing a few stray strands of hair behind her ear.

“No. Later,” she murmured, tugging my hand and leading me toward my parents’ room.

That room, once hollow and empty, she had lovingly filled last year with memories of me and Eshu for my birthday. It has been the best gift of my life.

“What is it, jaan?” I asked gently, letting her pull me along.

She only shushed me with a small smile. I chuckled under my breath, following her.

She led me into the room quietly, closing the door behind us. My back rested against the bed as she stood in front of me, her fingers nervously twisting together.

“You remember I told you ‘we are proud of you, no matter what’ before your speech?” she asked softly, her eyes glistening in a way that made my heart race.

“Of course,” I replied, confused but holding her gaze.

“That time… I wasn’t talking about our family,” she whispered, her voice trembling just slightly.

My brows furrowed. “Then… who?”

“Turn around,” she said gently, “look at the bed.”

I frowned, but did as she asked. My eyes landed on a small box lying neatly on the sheets. Slowly, almost cautiously, I picked it up and opened it.

Inside lay a pregnancy test.

That said, Pregnant.

The breath caught in my throat. The world seemed to still, around me,everything fading until there was only me, her, and the tiny truth resting in my palm.

I turned back to her, my hands shaking, tears already burning the corners of my eyes.

She stood there silently, her face wet with tears, yet smiling–the most beautiful, fragile smile I had ever seen.

“I… this–” My voice broke as I cupped her cheeks, my thumbs brushing away her tears.

She gave a watery chuckle and nodded, whispering words that made my knees weak. “We are going to be parents, Ved.”

For a moment, I could only stare, my heart beating so hard it hurt.

My lips fumbled over broken words–“I… we… me… papa–” until she laughed softly through her tears and reached for my hand.

Guiding it gently, she placed it over her stomach. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling yet sure, “aap papa banne wale ho.”

(You are going to be a father.)

The second my palm touched her, something inside me cracked wide open. My tears spilled freely as I bent closer, my forehead against hers.

“Our baby?” I choked out, emotions overpowering my conscience.

“Our baby,” she affirmed, her smile trembling as she nodded.

I let out a shaky breath, holding her as if she was the most precious thing in existence, which in reality, she was.“Thank you, jaan… aaj aapne mujhe poora kar diya,” I whispered against her skin.

(You completed me today.)

She let out a soft laugh, her tears dampening my shirt.

“I love you,” I murmured, kissing her forehead, then her cheeks, desperate to pour every ounce of love I had into her. “So much… more than I’ll ever be able to say.”

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her voice breaking, her smile radiant through the tears.

And in that quiet moment, it was just us–two souls, holding each other, holding a secret that would change their world forever.

“Wait… when did you find out?” I asked, suddenly realizing.

“Yesterday evening. I couldn’t even stand the smell of sushi–Ashu had ordered it for herself–and lately, I’ve been so tired, barely able to do anything,” she replied softly, making my eyes widen in surprise.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, my voice gentle, barely above a whisper.

“I took a test this morning. And… honestly, what day could’ve been better than Ma and Pa’s anniversary?” she said, smiling softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief and love.

I chuckled, shaking my head in disbelief, and we walked back to our room. I took the box back, helping her change and freshen up, and that night, we fell asleep wrapped around each other, stealing soft kisses and holding each other close.

The next morning, we shared the news with our family, and the joy was palpable. Priyu di and Nishita bhabhi were practically over the moon, eager to welcome her into their diaper gossip gang, while the girls were thrilled at the thought of meeting the baby.

The boys smirked at me knowingly, making me chuckle at their absurdity. Chachu and Chachi were ready to head back to Delhi to be there for her every step of the way.

While our family buzzed with excitement and plans, we stood together, sharing a quiet, tender smile.

“मेरा कलमा है तू, अजान है.… RAB KA SHUKRANA,” I murmured, leaning slightly toward her.

“Rab ka shukrana,” she whispered in return, her smile soft and serene–the same smile that had stolen my heart years ago, the same smile that held it now, and the same smile I knew would steal it again and again, always and forever.