Page 157 of Mrs. Rathore

Aryan scooped her up, nuzzling her tiny neck until she burst into laughter. I smiled, watching the father-daughter moment. Swara looked more like me, but she had Aryan’s nose and deep, expressive eyes. She was our little masterpiece, a daughter of a man who was just as beautiful inside as he was outside.

I had been living with Aryan for one year now, and I was enjoying every second of it. Last week, I found out I was six weeks pregnant again. Honestly, it wasn’t much of a surprise, considering Aryan’s stamina that one night when Swara slept unusually soundly.

This time, there were no arguments, no hesitation. Aryan had been overjoyed when I told him. He felt a little guilty, but I had to remind him it wasn’t his fault. I had stopped taking my contraceptive pills on purpose.

Maybe I wanted to prove to him that I had changed, that I wasn’t the same woman anymore. Maybe I just wanted to see that spark in his eyes when I said, "We’re having another baby." And that moment? That expression on his face? It was priceless.

Swara was still a baby, yes, but I already longed to hold another child. Giving birth to her had been the most painful yet beautiful experience of my life. I still remembered the moment the doctor laid her in my arms, how everything else just disappeared. I couldn’t look away.

Sometimes I wondered how different my life would’ve been if I hadn’t met Sadaf, Noor’s daughter. Little Sadaf had changed my heart in ways I couldn’t explain.

Swara jumped into my lap, laughing breathlessly as Aryan tickled her belly. She looked so tiny cradled against me.

“She’s like you,” Aryan said, sitting beside me. He gathered Swara in his arms and kissed her curly hair. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever owned besides you.” He winked, and I rolled my eyes, smiling.

“Is your morning sickness okay?” he asked, glancing at my still-flat stomach. “I just got you pregnant again. Maybe we should’ve waited a couple of years before going for baby number two.”

“Are you not happy?” I asked softly.

“Of course I’m happy, Avni.” Aryan wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. “I just worry about you. You only gave birth a short while ago, and now…”

“It’s been a year and five months, Aryan,” I laughed. “I’m not as fragile as you think.”

“I’ll take leave as soon as you hit your sixth month,” he promised. “I want us to be in our mansion when our second baby comes.”

“Will you even get leave, Mr. Major?”

“I haven’t taken a single day off since Swara’s birth. By the time you’re six months along, it’ll have been two full years. So yes, I’ll get my leave.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Sometimes I feel weirdly thankful that you hit me with your car.”

Aryan’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“If you hadn’t,” I continued, “I would’ve never met you. Maybe I would’ve ended up with someone else. I’m just so lucky to have a wonderful husband.”

He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Wanna know what a wonderful husband also does…”

He trailed his fingers along the hem of my dress, slipping beneath it until they found that spot he knew all too well.

“Stop it,” I whispered, glancing at Swara who was now crawling after Jimmy.

“Then stop begging me with those eyes,” he teased. “You’re always ready for me, aren’t you, Ballerina?”

“Oh God, Aryan,” I groaned, pulling his hand away, blushing. “Please…”

“I can’t wait to have dessert tonight,” he whispered with a wink, and stood up, disappearing into the bedroom.

I watched him go, still smiling like a fool, and my heart felt full to the brim.

Swara clapped her tiny hands, trying to make Jimmy bark. Her laughter echoed through the house like a lullaby. I leaned back into the cushions, resting a hand on my belly, feeling the quiet promise of life growing inside me. For now, only Aryan, Swara, and I knew our little secret.

I had once felt lost, broken, uncertain of who I was or where I was going. But now? I was a mother. A wife. And soon, a mother again. My heart was no longer hollow; it was overflowing.

Life doesn’t always begin the way we plan. Sometimes, it crashes into us unexpectedly and is painful. But if we’re lucky… that crash becomes the beginning of everything beautiful.

I looked at Swara, then toward the room where Aryan had gone, and smiled.

This was my family, my chaos, my calm, and my everything.

And I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The End

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