Next morning, Vamika slowly fluttered her eyes open. Soft sunlight slipped into the room through the parted curtains. Her body felt a strange mixture of warmth and lightness — as if the heaviness of last night's fears had finally melted.

Instinctively, her hand went to her belly.

She caressed the gentle curve lovingly.

Her thumb traced slow circles, and she whispered a quiet good morning to her baby, a shy smile tugging her lips.

She got up carefully and walked to the washroom.

After her morning routine, she came back with her hair dripping wet, loose strands sticking to her cheeks. She stood in front of the mirror, towel in hand, drying her hair. Every time she flicked her hair back, tiny droplets danced in the air...

...and a few of them fell on Yudhveer's sleeping frame.

He frowned at the cold sprinkling on his face and lazily opened his eyes — but Vamika hadn't noticed. She was too busy rubbing her towel over her long, heavy hair.

She then picked her small round bindi and placed it on her forehead.

After that, she took a small pinch of sindoor and applied it in her maang with a soft, reverent gesture.

She turned to leave for the kitchen when—

"Chand," Yudhveer called out, voice thick from sleep.

Vamika stopped and turned.

"Uth gaye aap?" ["You woke up?"]

Yudhveer smirked, pushing himself up on the bed.

"Ji, biwi ne muh pe paani ke cheete maare hain... uthna toh padega hi."

["Yes, my wife sprinkled water on my face... so of course I had to wake up."]

Vamika's lips curved into a smile.

"Main ne jaan bujh ke nahi kiya," she said softly. ["I didn't do it knowingly."]

Yudhveer stretched his arms and teased,

"Tujh pe bharosa nahi... kya pata tujhe jalan hui ho ki main abhi tak so raha hoon."

["I don't trust you... who knows, maybe you were jealous that I was still asleep."]

Vamika blinked dramatically.

"Main kyu jalungi aapse?"

["Why would I be jealous of you?"]

Yudhveer burst out laughing.

"Nahi, tu jalkukdi toh hai... kal kaise Rupa se jal rahi thi!"

["No, you ARE a jealous little thing... yesterday you were burning with jealousy because of Rupa!"]

Vamika huffed loudly, cheeks puffed, eyes widening.

She bent down, grabbed a pillow, and threw it at him.

Yudhveer caught it mid-air with a laugh.

"Dekh, dekh... kaisi jal rahi hai!"

["See, see... how jealous you are!"]

Vamika narrowed her eyes at him, gave him that classic offended-wifey expression, and without another word she turned around and walked out of the room, her hair swaying behind her.

Vamika walked into the kitchen quietly, her anklets making a soft chiming sound.

She didn't do much work these days — Yudhveer had strictly told her not to stress herself. So she mostly helped with small things.

Today, she was kneading the dough slowly, her movements gentle, mindful of her belly. Her bangles clinked softly each time she pressed the dough with the heel of her palm.

Just then, Manorama stepped into the kitchen.

Her sharp eyes immediately fell on Vamika.

"Tu wo gond ke laddoo kha rahi hai na?"

["Are you eating those gond laddoos regularly?"]

Vamika lifted her head and replied softly,

"Ji maa ji."

["Yes, mother."]

Manorama nodded approvingly.

"Bacche ke liye bohot achha hota hai."

["It's very good for the baby."]

She paused, her gaze automatically dropping to Vamika's belly.

Then she asked,

"Baccha theek-thaak hilta hai na?"

["The baby moves properly, right?"]

"Ji maa ji," Vamika replied again.

Then after a second, she added with a tiny shy smile,

"Kabhi kabar toh... kuch zyada hi hilta hai."

["Sometimes... it moves a little too much."]

For the first time this morning, Manorama's stern face softened into a warm smile.

"Yeh toh achhi baat hai."

["That's a good thing."]

She didn't say anything more. She simply turned and walked out of the kitchen, her saree pallu trailing behind her.

And that was it.

Manorama always asked about the baby.

Not about Vamika.

Never about her.

Her concern was only for her grandchild — never her daughter-in-law.

Vamika wasn't blind to it — she knew it very well.

Still... she didn't mind.

She didn't crave love anymore; she had stopped expecting it long ago.

All she needed was basic acceptance,

a little kindness,

a place where she wasn't unwanted.

And as long as Manorama treated her with that much,

Vamika was... okay.

Vamika was still kneading the dough slowly, lost in her own thoughts, when she felt a sudden familiar warmth behind her. Strong arms slipped around her waist, pulling her back gently but firmly.

Yudhveer.

He back-hugged her without saying a word, his chin brushing her shoulder as he rested his face near her neck. She froze for a second — partly out of surprise, partly because his touch always made her feel small, protected, vulnerable in ways she never admitted.

He tightened his hold slightly, careful not to apply pressure to her stomach, but still close enough that she could feel his heartbeat against her back.

Vamika swallowed, her hands still covered in dough, her breath catching for a moment. He didn't care that she was working, he didn't care that her hands were messy — he just held her l

as if he had been waiting the whole day to do it.

Her voice came out barely above a whisper, "Main... main kaam kar rahi hoon..."

(I... I'm working...)

He didn't reply — he just exhaled slowly against her shoulder, like holding her was the only answer he needed to give.

His fingertips slid over her stomach, resting there protectively.

And even though she didn't turn around, even though she didn't say anything else, a tiny part of her chest softened.

Just then a pair of tiny hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway.

"Baba!!"

Yagya rushed into the kitchen like a storm, eyes widening the moment he saw his father hugging his mother from behind.

"Baba yeh aap kya kar rahe hain?!"

(Baba, what are you doing?!)

For a second, both of them froze — literally stilled.

Vamika's cheeks flushed in an instant and she immediately pushed Yudhveer away, stepping forward with embarrassment burning through her entire face.

But Yudhveer...

He didn't panic.

He didn't stumble.

He handled it smoothly, as if he had been prepared for this all along.

He bent down, scooped Yagya effortlessly into his arms and said,

"Main to aapke chote bhai yaa behen ko mehsoos kar raha tha."

(I was just feeling your little brother or sister.)

Yagya blinked. Once. Twice.

Then thought deeply like it was a matter of national security.

"Wo kaise?"

(How?)

Yudhveer smiled, then bent down and gently held Yagya's little hand.

"Aise."

(Like this.)

He guided Yagya's hand forward and placed it softly on Vamika's belly.

And right that moment —

the baby moved.

A small kick.

A flutter.

A tiny ripple of life.

Yagya gasped, eyes becoming the size of full moons.

"BABA!!!"

Yudhveer's smile widened as he said,

"Dekha? Aapka bhai yaa behen aapse baat kar rahe hain."

(See? Your sibling is talking to you.)

Overjoyed, Yagya immediately leaned forward and pressed his ear to Vamika's belly — because he truly believed the baby was going to start speaking like a cartoon character.

Both Vamika and Yudhveer burst into a soft laugh at his innocence.

Vamika gently caressed his hair and said,

"Babu, abhi aap aise sun nahi paoge..."

(Baby, you won't be able to hear like this right now...)

Yagya scrunched his face impatiently.

"To kab sun paunga?"

(Then when will I hear?)

Yudhveer replied calmly,

"3 mahine mein aap sun paoge."

(In 3 months, you'll be able to.)

And then...

A sudden, quiet realisation hit both of them at the same time.

They were going to be parents.

Soon. Very soon.

And for a moment — the kitchen, the laughter, the morning routine — everything faded into a soft, overwhelming warmth.

Their family was growing.

_____________

Breakfast went normally after that.

Manorama finished her meal and quietly went back to her room.

Yagya's tutor arrived and he sat with her in his room, learning his alphabets with full concentration.

Upstairs, in their room, the morning sun fell softly through the curtains.

Yudhveer was getting ready for office—buttoning his kurta, adjusting his watch.

And Vamika...

She was sitting on the bed, legs folded, her round belly resting gently against her thighs, reading a storybook like she always did when she wanted to keep her mind occupied.

Yudhveer kept stealing glances at her.

Her bindi.

The faint sindoor.

Her mangalsutra against her chest.

Her soft hair falling over her shoulder.

Her hand unconsciously caressing her belly every few minutes.

He kept staring.

Vamika felt his gaze and without lifting her eyes from the book she said,

"Aise kya dekh rahe hain?"

(What are you staring at?)

Yudhveer leaned on the cupboard and asked casually,

"Nahi... main soch raha hoon ki tune wo kaha se seekha?"

(No... I'm thinking, where did you learn that?)

Vamika frowned, confused.

"Kya?"

(What?)

Yudhveer's lips curved into a slow teasing smirk.

"Kal raat jo tune kiya... mera yeh chaata... yeh kaha se sikha?"

(What you did last night... the lick of yours... where did you learn that?)

He pointed directly at his own nipple.

Vamika's face instantly turned red.

Like tomato red.

Her breath hitched and she looked away, tongue-tied.

"Bata na... kaha se sikha?"

(Tell me... where did you learn it?)

Vamika, mortified, whispered,

"Aapke... kitaab se..."

(From your... book...)

"Kaunse kitaab se?"

(Which book?)

She pointed slowly—so slowly—to the extreme corner of his bookshelf.

A book.

A very explicit book.

Yudhveer turned, saw it, froze.

For a whole three seconds he just stared.

Then he put both his hands on his hips dramatically.

"Vidya ka galat istemaal."

(Misuse of knowledge.)

Vamika's eyebrows scrunched.

"Kya vidya ka galat istemaal?? Aap ke hi kitaab thi! Matlab... aap bhi padhte honge!"

(What misuse of knowledge?? It was your book! That means... you must be reading it too!)

Yudhveer, without missing a beat, replied,

"Main to bada hoon. Main to padh hi sakta hoon. Lekin tu to bacchi hain."

(I'm an adult. I'm allowed to read it. But you are just a kid.)

Vamika gasped loudly, offended.

"Agar main bacchi hoon to mere andar aapka baccha kaise aya??"

(If I'm a kid then how did your child come inside me??)

The words left her mouth before she registered them.

And the moment she realised what she had said—her face turned crimson. She wanted to bury herself under the mattress.

Yudhveer slowly walked toward her, eyes narrowed in playful mischief.

"Dikhau kaise aya?"

(Shall I show you how it came?)

"Nahi!"

Vamika squeaked, hitting his chest with the book and crawling back on the bed.

But Yudhveer was quicker.

He caught her wrist gently, pulled her close and placed a loud kiss on her cheek.

"Bohot chappad-chappad karti hai."

(You've become too bold now.)

"Aap bhi kam nahi ho!"

(You're no less!)

He kissed her other cheek.

She tried to push him away, laughing, but he wrapped an arm around her waist and tickled her lightly.

"Ahh! Bas!" ("Ahh! Enough!")

"Kyu? Bacchi ko gudgudi nahi kar sakte?"

(Why? Can't I tickle a kid?)

She hit him with the pillow this time.

He laughed, kissed her forehead and finally stood up.

"Theek hain... main daftar jaa raha hoon. Tu aaram karna, aur tambe ke jug mein tere liye pani bhar ke rakh diya hai....wo pi lena "

(Okay... I'm leaving for office now. You rest. I had kept water in the copper jug...you'll drink it okay?)

Vamika nodded and watched him straighten his kurta, he sprayed perfume—then he leaned down and kissed her one last time on her warm cheek.

"Shaam ko jaldi aa jaunga."

(I'll come back early in the evening.)

He gave her belly a soft pat, smiled, and walked out of the room.

And the room felt a little too quiet as the door clicked shut.

Evening came quietly.

The sky had turned soft orange, birds returning to their nests.

Yudhveer's jeep entered the haveli compound.

He switched off the engine, tired but eager to see his family.

As he walked towards the house, he heard laughter—two familiar voices.

Vamika and Yagya.

It made his lips curve...

But when he reached the back garden and saw what they were doing—

His smile died instantly.

Yagya was chasing Vamika across the grass.

And Vamika was running. Actually running. With a full belly.

His blood boiled on the spot.

His jaw clenched, breath hitched, and the protective rage took over.

"VAMIKA!"

His yell echoed through the garden like thunder.

Both mother and son froze instantly.

Vamika's eyes widened — she had not seen him coming.

And in that moment of sudden shock, she stumbled — her foot twisted slightly, and she lost balance.

She was about to fall forward.

But Yudhveer reacted faster than thought.

He ran, grabbed her wrist mid-air, his grip firm—too firm—and pulled her towards him.

Her body crashed lightly against his chest, but he did not loosen his grip.

His chest was rising and falling heavily, face hard with pure fear-turned-anger.

He didn't shout.

He didn't scold.

He just held her wrist tighter.

Too tight.

For a moment, she looked up at him, confused and scared — not of him hurting her, but of him being this upset.

Yagya looked between his parents, confused.

"Baba...?"

Yudhveer didn't answer.

He didn't look at Yagya.

He didn't even look around.

Without a word, still holding Vamika's wrist in a firm grasp, he turned and dragged her inside the house.

Not violently.

But with a cold, terrifying urgency — the kind that comes only when fear masks itself as anger.

Vamika stumbled once but quickly matched his pace.

Her heart was racing.

Her wrist throbbed under his grip, but she didn't protest.

She knew why he was angry.

She knew exactly why.

Inside the living room, he finally stopped.

Closed the door behind them with a sharp click.

The silence was heavy — suffocating.

His hand was still on her wrist.

His eyes were burning.

And Vamika swallowed hard, her breath unsteady, waiting for him to speak.

The moment he pulled her inside, the door slammed shut with a loud thud.

Vamika froze.

Yudhveer didn't speak.

Didn't look at her face.

His jaw was locked so hard that the vein near his temple throbbed violently.

He wasn't angry.

He was boiling.

And silent, boiling Yudhveer was always the worst.

His grip on her wrist tightened—not to hurt her, but to make it clear who she belonged to.

Who had the right to pull her back from danger.

"J-ji..." she whispered hesitantly.

That was it.

He snapped.

"Chup. Ekdum chup. ("Quiet. Completely quiet.")"

His voice cracked like a whip.

She instantly fell silent.

He turned then—slow, terrifying—eyes blazing, nostrils flaring, breath uneven.

"Daud rahi thi tu? ("You were RUNNING?")" he spat.

"Pet se hai... pet itna bada ho gaya hai tera... aur tu DAUD RAHI THI? ("You're pregnant... your belly has grown so much... and you were RUNNING?")"

The roar shook her.

Vamika flinched.

"mai– main bas—" ("I-I was-")

"Bas kya? ("You were what?")"

He stepped closer, towering over her.

Dominance rolling off him in waves.

"Main tujhse bol bol ke thak gaya hoon ki apna dhyaan rakh... aur tu meri baaton ko gambhirta se nahi leti, kya meri baaton ka koi mahatva nahi hai?"

("I'm tired of telling you to take care of yourself... and you toss my words into the air like they mean nothing?")

Her eyes dropped, shame burning her cheeks.

"Aap gussa mat ho—" ("Please, you don't have to be angry-")

"Haan gussa hounga main! ("Yes of course I'll get angry!")"

He thundered.

"Gussa nahi karunga to kya phool barsaunga? Pagal ho gayi hai tu?

("If I don't get angry should I shower flowers on you? Have you lost your mind?")"

His fear and anger tangled, twisting inside him.

He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Zara sa pair fisal jaata na pata hai kya hota?...  main khud ko kabhi maaf nahi kar pata.

("Do you know what would have happened if your foot slipped even slightly? I would never forgive myself.")"

His voice lowered—dangerously.

Vamika's chin trembled as she met his furious eyes.

"Main... main bas Yagya ke saath—" ("I....I was just playing with Yagya-")

"YAGYA ke saath ho ya akeli ho... daudne se mana kiya tha na maine?

("Whether you're with Yagya or alone... I told you NOT to run, right?")"

He stepped so close their breaths collided.

"Mana kiya tha ki nahi? ("Did I forbid it or not?")"

"Ji..."("Yes...") she whispered, small and scared.

"Meri baat ka matlab samajh nahi aata tujhe? ("You don't understand what I say?")"

"Samajh aata hai..." ("Yes I understand...")

He growled, "To phir kyun kiya? ("Then why did you do it?")"

Silence.

Because she had no answer.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, breathing heavily, trying to calm himself.

Then suddenly he grabbed her jaw, lifting her face with controlled force.

"Dobara agar aisi haalat mein daudne ki himmat ki na... tujhse baat bhi nahi karunga."

("If you dare run again while pregnant... I won't talk to you.")

Her eyes widened.

"I won't do it... promise," she whispered.

He stared, jaw tight, anger still crackling under his skin.

Slowly, his hand slipped from her jaw to her cheek.

But his eyes stayed filled with fear.

"Tu meri zimmedari hai. Aur mera sabse bada dar."

("You're my responsibility. And my biggest fear.")

Her breath caught.

"Isliye gussa aata hai... kyunki agar tujhe kuch ho gaya, Vamika... main barbaad ho jaunga."

("That's why I get angry... because if anything happens to you, I'll be destroyed.")

His tone lowered at the end.

She swallowed hard.

Then he pulled her into his chest—roughly, possessively.

She gasped but didn't resist.

His arm wrapped around her belly—protective, instinctive.

The baby kicked.

Hard.

Both of them froze.

Vamika gasped softly. "H-hila..." ("They moved...")

Yudhveer's eyes instantly softened—just for a second—as he stared at her belly under his palm.

"Mujhe mehsoos hua. ("I felt it.")"

His voice dropped to a whisper.

Awe. Relief. Emotion.

He kissed her temple once—still breathing heavily.

But then his expression changed.

Serious again.

Dominant again.

He tilted her face up.

"Pani piya tune? ("Did you drink the water?")"

He asked sharply.

"Taambe ke jug mein jo rakh ke gaya tha tere liye? ("The copper jug water I kept for you?")"

Her heart dropped.

She hadn't.

She looked down, silent.

He immediately understood.

His nostrils flared.

"Nahi piya na? ("You didn't drink it, did you?")"

She remained quiet.

That was enough.

He snapped again.

"Tujhe main jo bhi bolu wo tujhe sunna nahi hota!"

("You never listen to anything I tell you!")

His voice rose again, frustration pouring out.

"Phir jab pair kheech jaata hain tab chillati rehti hain... yeh sab kam pani peene ki wajah se hota hain..."

("And then when your legs cramp you keep crying... all this happens because you don't drink enough water...")

His anger dropped into helplessness.

His voice softened but still carried sharp edges.

"Dhyan rakha kar apna... ab tu akeli nahi hain..."

("Take care of yourself... you're not alone anymore...")

He brushed his thumb over her cheek, frustrated affection bleeding through.

"Tu apna dhyan nahi rakhegi to bacche ka kaise rakhegi, bata?"

("If you can't take care of yourself, how will you take care of the baby?")

He exhaled sharply, then turned, poured a full glass of water, and placed it in her hand.

"Pi. Chup chap. ("Drink. Don't fuss.")"

Vamika didn't argue.

Didn't complain.

She just lifted the glass and drank—quiet, obedient, eyes lowered.

His gaze stayed fixed on her the entire time.

Possessive.

Concerned.

Dominant.

And terrified of losing her.

_________________

The night had grown heavy, a deep, velvety blanket of silence settled over the house. Everyone was asleep, lost in their dreams.

Except one man.

Yudhveer, standing alone in the dim kitchen, sleeves rolled up, stirring the thickening milk with full concentration.

The old wall clock ticked loudly.

11:55 PM.

His heart kicked.

He quickly poured the fresh kalakand into a steel thali, cut one square, placed it in a dabba...

and rushed to the bedroom.

He pushed the door gently.

Vamika was fast asleep, curled like a small child, hair falling over her cheek.

He smiled softly.

He bent down, brushed her hair aside, and whispered against her forehead—

"Chand... uth. Meri Chand."

("Chand... wake up. My moon.")

She groaned like a sleepy kitten.

"Kya hua...? Subah ho gayi... itni jaldi?"

("What happened? Is it morning... so soon?")

He chuckled and kissed her nose softly.

"Nahi subah nahi hui... lekin 12 baj gaye hain. Aaj pata hain na kya hai?"

("No, it's not morning... but it's 12. Do you know what today is?")

Her eyelids fluttered open halfway.

"Kya hai?"

("What?")

He raised his brows proudly.

"Hamari saalgirah."

("Our anniversary.")

Her eyes flew open instantly.

"Kya!? Wo aaj thodi hain... kal hain—"

("What!? It's not today... it's tomorrow—")

He smirked.

"Aaj hi hain. 12 baj gaye na."

("It is today. It's past 12 now.")

Before she could react, he remembered the kalakand.

Without wasting another second, he opened the dabba and brought a piece to her lips.

"Yeh le... tere liye banaya hai."

("Here... I made this for you.")

Still shocked, still dazed, she opened her mouth.

He fed her gently.

Then leaned back, waiting like a strict examiner.

"Bata... kaisi lagi?

Tujhe to dukaan ka kalakand bohut pasand hain...

ab bata apne pati ke haath ka kaise laga?"

("Tell me... how is it?

You love the sweet shop's kalakand...

now tell me how your husband's tastes?")

Her eyes widened.

It was a huge deal.

He never cooked.

Never.

Her eyes filled instantly — emotions plus the pregnancy — overflowing.

Yudhveer noticed.

He clicked his tongue.

"Ab itna kharab hai kya jo tu rona shuru kar di?"

("Is it so bad that you started crying?")

She shook her head fast.

"Nahi... bohut achha hai..."

("No... it's very good...")

Her voice cracked.

She took a small piece and fed him back.

Tenderly.

"Dhanyavaad..." she whispered softly.

("Thank you...")

He narrowed his eyes dramatically.

Yudhveer's expression softened, then turned playfully intense. "Dhanyavad se kaam nahi chalega." ("Thank you won't work.")

A faint blush touched her cheeks. "Kya chahiye aapko?" she asked, though a part of her already knew. ("What do you want?")

He leaned in, his lips hovering a breath away from hers, his voice dropping to a husky, intimate whisper.

"Maine tujhe kalakand khilaya. Ab tu mujhe apna doodh pila." ("I fed you kalakand. Now you have to feed me your milk.")

A hot, sudden flush raced up Vamika's neck, heating her entire face. Her breath hitched. "Kya aap bhi..." she began, a half-hearted, flustered protest, but the words died in her throat. ("You are...")

Yudhveer wasn't in the mood for jokes anymore.

The playful tease was gone, replaced by a raw, palpable desire. He closed the minuscule distance, capturing her lips in a deep, claiming kiss that tasted of sweet kalakand and a love that defied the sleeping hour.

When he pulled back, his dark eyes were burning. He trailed his lips down the column of her throat, his hands moving to the hooks of her blouse.

Vamika's head fell back, a soft, surrendering sigh escaping her.

Her eyes, once wide with surprise, now fluttered closed, her long lashes casting shadows on her flushed cheeks. Her breath came in shallow, anticipatory pants. As his mouth found the soft, swollen curve of her breast, her back arched off the bed, a silent offering.

A small, helpless whimper caught in her throat, her fingers tangling in his hair, not to pull him away, but to hold him closer, her entire being alight with a shivering, exquisite sensitivity.

Things escalated and they made fierce love.

Vamika was exhausted, still on her fours, breath unsteady.

Yudhveer immediately placed his hand on her back.

"Aaram se..."

["Slowly..."]

He gently held her waist and shoulder, guiding her carefully.

"Sambhal ke, gir jayegi."

["Careful, you'll fall."]

She let him help her, too tired to move on her own.

He eased her down on the bed, fixing the pillow under her head.

"Thak gayi na?"

["You're tired, aren't you?"]

She nodded softly, cheeks flushed.

Yudhveer smiled faintly, then pulled the blanket over her.

He lay beside her and wrapped an arm around her protectively.

Vamika slept with her head resting on one of Yudhveer's strong biceps, her palm splayed softly on his chest.

Yudhveer was awake, gently caressing her hair with slow, lazy strokes.

Her voice came out sleepy, muffled against his skin.

"Aap ajeeb hain... bohot."

["You're very strange... really."]

Yudhveer chuckled quietly.

"Kyun?"

["Why?"]

Vamika lifted her face slightly, still drowsy.

"Aise raat ke 12 baje kaun salgirah manata hain?"

["Who celebrates an anniversary at midnight?"]

Yudhveer smirked.

"Toh 12 baje ke baad naya din shuru hota hai na."

["Because a new day begins after midnight."]

Vamika's brows pulled together.

"Woh toh suryodaya ke baad hota hai."

["That happens after sunrise."]

He shook his head, amused.

"Nahi. 12 baje ke baad naya din shuru hota hai."

["No. A new day starts after 12."]

She frowned, unconvinced.

Yudhveer leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"Kal padhaunga tujhe iss baare mein."

["Tomorrow I'll teach you about this."]

She nodded sleepily and settled back on his chest.

He kissed her head gently, then after a moment—almost as if remembering something old—he said softly:

"Tujhe pata hai... jab main sheher mein rehta tha, wahan hum sab 12 baje hi ek dusre ka janamdin manate the."

["You know... when I lived in the city, we used to celebrate each other's birthdays exactly at midnight."]

Vamika blinked and looked up.

"Aap sheher mein rehte the?"

["You lived in the city?"]

"Haan. Wahan main padhai karta tha."

["Yes. I used to study there."]

Her voice softened.

"Aapke liye toh bohot mushkil hoga... akele sheher mein rehna, nahi?"

["It must have been difficult for you... living alone in the city, right?"]

Yudhveer shook his head.

"Nahi. Akele thodi rehta tha."

["No. I wasn't alone."]

Vamika's eyes narrowed.

"Toh kaun rehta tha?"

["Then who lived with you?"]

With a completely straight face, he said:

"Ladki ke saath rehta tha... thi ek meri premika."

["I lived with a girl... she was my lover."]

Vamika immediately smacked his chest.

"Mazaaq mat kijiye mere saath! Main gussa ho jaungi!"

["Don't joke with me! I'll get angry!"]

He burst out laughing and pulled her closer.

"Theek hai theek hai... main apne bhai ke saath rehta tha."

["Okay fine... I lived with my brother."]

Her brows wrinkled.

"Bhai? Kaunsa bhai?"

["Brother? Which brother?"]

"Mama ka beta. Lekin woh mere sagge bhai se kam nahi."

["My maternal uncle's son. But he's no less than a real brother."]

Vamika nodded slowly.

"Achha... toh ab woh kaha rehte hain?"

["Okay... so where is he now?"]

"Sheher mein. Doctory ki padhai kar raha hai."

["In the city. Studying medicine."]

Vamika hesitated, then asked softly:

"Aur aapke mama?"

["And your uncle?"]

Yudhveer's tone fell, gentle but heavy.

"Mere mama ab nahi rahe."

["My uncle is no more."]

A shadow passed over Vamika's face.

He continued, his voice thick with old memories.

"Mama bohot acche aadmi the... baba ke mrityu ke baad mama ne hi iss ghar ko sambhala. Unhone shaadi ki, beta hua... lekin meri mami mere bhai ko janm dete hi chal basi. Phir kuch din baad mere baba bhi chale gaye..."

["My uncle was a very good man... after my father's death, he held this family together. He married, had a son... but my aunt died during childbirth. And a few days later, my father passed away too..."]

Vamika's chest tightened.

He went on.

"Mujhe aur Yashodhara ko baap ki zarurat thi... aur mere bhai ko maa ki. Isliye meri maa ne mama aur usse yahan bula liya. Hum sab ek saath rehte the."

["Yashodhara and I needed a father... and my brother needed a mother. So my mother brought them here. We all lived together."]

"Phir?" Vamika whispered.

["Then?"]

"Phir hum bade hue... hum dono bhai sheher gaye padhne. Mera irada hamesha se sarpanch banne ka tha... toh main wapas aa gaya. Lekin mera bhai doctor banna chahta tha... isliye woh abhi bhi sheher mein rehta hai."

["Then we grew up... both of us went to the city for studies. I always wanted to become the village head... so I returned. But my brother wanted to be a doctor... so he still lives in the city."]

Vamika nodded, absorbing every detail.

Then she hesitated.

"Aur... aapke mama ji kaha hain?"

["And... where is your uncle now?"]

Yudhveer's face softened.

"Mama ji bhi chal base... 6 saal ho gaye."

["He also passed away... it's been six years."]

Vamika didn't ask anything after that.

She didn't need to.

Because now she understood—

Yudhveer had lost too many people in his life.

First his father... then his uncle...

and then even his sister.

Her throat tightened.

Her chest ached for him.

And before she could stop herself, her eyes filled up—soft, full, hurting.

Yudhveer noticed instantly.

He brushed his thumb beneath her eye, wiping the tear before it could fall.

"Utna nahi sochte meri jaan..."

["Don't think so much, my love..."]

He gently pulled her closer, guiding her head back to his chest.

"...so ja. Thak gayi hogi."

["...sleep now. You must be tired."]

His voice was deep, warm, protective.

Vamika burrowed into him, her fingers curling lightly against his ribs.

He exhaled softly, wrapping his arm around her—

a steady, secure, comforting hold over her back and her belly.

She whispered one last word, barely audible:

"Ji..."

["Okay..."]

Yudhveer placed a slow kiss on her forehead.

And just like that, their breaths synced.

Their warmth melded.

The room grew quiet.

Little by little...

Sleep pulled them both under.

Together.

Safe.

Held.

The night wrapped around them gently—

two souls who had lost so much...

but somehow found each other.

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