Two more years later.

Sunaina’s POV

“And that’s, ladies and gentlemen, the video we received from the defendant. What do you guys think— is this video fabricated?” I asked, pausing the video and looking around the room.

Everyone looked at each other, waiting for someone to take the initiative like a bunch of kids. Sighing at their behavior, I gave the answer myself and warned them about it.

“Let’s wrap up for the day. Make sure to complete your assigned tasks before the deadline,” I said firmly, with my assistant trailing behind me.

“Sona, you can get back to your work, and please make sure no one disturbs me. If it’s urgent, call me first.” Instructing my assistant, I went back to my cabin.

Gulping down a glass of water, I paced around the room, trying to recall the details the rapist mentioned in court and the video the victim had secretly recorded.

Just then, someone knocked. Sighing, I shouted, “Sona, I told you if it’s not urgent, do not disturb me. Is it that hard to understand?”

Another knock interrupted me. “I SAID—” I was abruptly cut off as my front door opened, revealing my handsome husband with a cute smile.

“Ved!” I squealed, tackling him in a much-needed hug as he closed the door behind him.

Aapko pata hai I was so stressed today,” I muttered, a pout forming on my face.
(You know, I was so stressed today.)

“Really?” he asked, detaching himself from the hug and cradling my cheeks in his hands, looking at me with a soft smile.

“Really. The team pissed me off so much today,” I complained with a sigh, my pout deepening.

Pecking my lips softly, he muttered with a huge smile, “I bought a surprise to uplift your mood.”

“Dikhao,” I said, all my tiredness slowly leaving my body.
(Show me.)

“Come on in!” Ved shouted, stepping aside and opening the door slightly—only to reveal my two-year-old twins entering.

Aaina Mehra and Kridhyansh Mehra, born 20 minutes apart, with Aaina being the elder one—born on the very same day I lost my ma and pa, becoming a ray of happiness for us.

“Mumma!” they shouted in unison, running towards me. Crouching to their level, I opened my arms, only for them to crash into me, giggling loudly.

“V iss uh Mumma,” they said, pouting dramatically, their doe eyes staring into mine with admiration. (We missed you, Mumma.)

“Mumma missed you too,” I replied with a chuckle, causing them to narrow their eyes at me.

“Aap shad the Mumma?” Aaina asked, Kridh nodding along with his sister. (Were you sad, Mumma?)

“Yeah, your papa wasn’t letting me eat ice cream,” I replied, throwing a mischievous wink at Ved, who looked at me with a betrayed expression.

“Not fair papa, ichem,” Aaina said, glaring at him cutely with her little hands on her waist. Kridh followed her movements, looking at me in confusion, asking for help.
(Icecream.)

“Ice cream party,” I said, holding back a chuckle.

“Yesh, ichem darti,” Aaina said, making Ved and me burst into laughter.
(Yes, icecream party.)

“Ice cream party it is,” he announced, tackling the kids in his arms and making them giggle, a contagious smile made its way on my face just like everyday.

Five years with him had been nothing but blissful. There were days when I wanted to give up—during my first trimester, when I couldn’t eat without throwing up twice, or during my third trimester, when I felt so insecure about myself that I couldn’t even look in the mirror. But he… he stayed with me throughout. Whether it was cooking the few dishes I could eat at odd hours of the day, or worshipping my body with the same love he had before marriage, even when I was struggling to love myself.

My pregnancy wasn’t easy. My children were born three weeks early and kept in the NICU for three days. Yet, he stood strong, protecting us and taking care of us with the same soft smile—the very one I had fallen in love with.

Yes, we fought—a lot. But we made sure never to go to bed angry with each other. We always sorted it out and ended up under the sheets, apologizing in the most romantic way possible.

Pata hi nahi chala dekhte dekhte kab mai puri zindagi akele hi bitani hai shayad sochne wali ladki, itni khushkismat hogyi ki bhagwan ne mujhe ek parivaar dedia, woh parivar jiske bina mai adhuri hu.
(“I never realized when the girl who thought she’d have to spend her entire life alone became so fortunate that God blessed her with a family—the family without whom I am incomplete.”)

“Heyy jaan,” Ved’s soft call broke my chain of thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, wiping my cheek, making me realize I was crying.

Thankfully, the kids were whispering among themselves, too engrossed to notice.

I shook my head with a soft smile before muttering, “I love you.”

“I love you more, jaan. Always and forever,” he whispered, kissing my forehead gently, causing a red hue to appear on my cheeks.

“Offo papa, Mumma, no kissie kissie, ichem,” Aaina said, facepalming herself and shaking her head, probably already done with her parents. Her brother copied her actions, making Ved and me chuckle.

Wrapping up for the day, we took the kids for their demanded ice cream party at the same ice cream parlour where we once came on a date alone.

By the time we reached back home, the kids were already asleep. Tucking them safely into bed, we went to freshen up.

Just as I was about to make my way toward my vanity, I was pulled back into his arms.

“Wha—”

“Happy five years, jaan,” he whispered, dropping a lingering kiss on my forehead.

“Happy five years, Mr. Mehra,” I replied, kissing his cheek softly.

“Dance with me,” he asked. I nodded with a soft smile. Playing a gentle tune, we swayed together, reminiscing about these blissful years of togetherness.

“Thank you for completing me, jaan. Aap nahi hoti toh mai shayad aaj yaha na hota, aap mere jeene ki wjh bankar aai jab mai sabse haar chuka tha aur ab meri sabse jaruri jeene ki wjh ban gayi hai, jab mai aapke sath sab kuch karna chahta hu, apne bacho ko bada hote dekhna, aap ke saath buddha hona aur aapke saath hi duniya se chale jaana, meri sans lene ka zariya ban gayi ho aap aur mujhe khushi hai iss baar ki bhagwan ne iske liye aapko chuna, qki aap nahi toh koi nahi.” he said softly, his eyes filled with unshed tears.

(If you weren’t there, I probably wouldn’t be here today. You came into my life as my reason to live when I had lost everything, and now you’ve become my most important reason to keep living. I want to do everything with you—watch our children grow up, grow old with you, and leave this world with you by my side. You’ve become the very reason I breathe, and I’m grateful that this time God chose you for me, because if not you, then no one.)

“Aapke bin kaha jaati mai Ved? Aap na hote toh shayad mai bhi nahi reh paati, mera dil meri khushi meri jene ki wjh sirf aap ho Ved, Ved nahi toh Ved ki Naina bhi nahi, mera dil aapke saath harr pal jene k liye dhadakta hai, mera sab kuch ho aap, sirf aap.” I replied softly, tears streaming down our faces.

(Where would I go without you, Ved? If you weren’t there, I probably wouldn’t have survived either. My heart, my happiness, my reason to live — it’s all you, Ved. Without Ved, there would be no Naina of Ved. My heart beats to live every moment with you; you are my everything, only you.)

“Can I kiss you, jaan?” he asked, looking into my eyes. I closed mine in response.

His lips molded softly into mine, pouring every ounce of love he had for me. I responded with the same intensity, making sure to pour every bit of my growing love into the kiss.

Pulling away gently, we rested our foreheads together, taking slow breaths to calm ourselves.

“Rab ka shukrana,” we whispered together, exchanging breathtaking smiles.

Just then, a soft knock came at our door. Pulling away, we went to check, only to find our sleepy babies standing there, rubbing their eyes.

“Schcaled Mumma,” Aaina muttered, dropping herself into my arms. Kridh did the same with Ved.
(Scared mumma.)

Exchanging a soft smile, we tucked them into the middle of our bed safely. After freshening up quickly, we joined them on either side, drifting into a content sleep with our babies.

And just like that, their forever with their children carried on, ever so beautifully.