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Jhankar nodded slowly, just as a knock echoed at the door. Sharda entered the room, gently holding Sonia by the hand. Sonia looked visibly scared, holding her doll tightly in one hand and clinging to Sharda with the other. As soon as she entered, Sonia’s eyes landed on Jhankar, and she smiled, but her expression quickly changed when her gaze fell on Jhankar’s stomach, now flat after childbirth. Her brows furrowed in a strange confusion. Before she could react further, Vikrant walked over to her, helped her sit on the nearby sofa, and carefully lifted his daughter from the cradle, placing the tiny bundle into Sharda’s arms.

“Our Manyata…” he said, his voice tender and proud.

Hearing the name, Sharda’s face lit up with a warm smile. Her eyes then shifted to Sonia, who was still staring at Jhankar, her gaze fixated on her abdomen. Sharda understood well that Sonia’s mental condition wasn’t completely stable. But Sonia had never harmed anyone and had always remained gentle, despite her emotional fragility. Still, the presence of a newborn required utmost care and vigilance. Sharda kindly spoke to Sonia while gently lowering herself to her level.

“She’s right here…”

Vikrant knew in his heart that Sonia would be happy to see the baby. But at the same time, he had no idea how she would react, especially considering how deeply her past loss had affected her. It wasn’t easy for him either. That’s why he had first handed his daughter to Sharda, trusting that only she could carefully place the baby in Sonia’s arms, with the caution and love needed.

Sonia’s eyes slowly shifted toward the tiny bundle lying peacefully in Sharda’s lap. The moment she saw the baby, a look of pure wonder washed over her face. She stared in awe, as if trying to understand whether what she was seeing was real. Carefully, almost reverently, she placed her doll aside on a different sofa and, with trembling hands, reached out to receive the baby into her arms.

The way she held the child was delicate, filled with a blend of fear, reverence, and pure joy. She began to softly touch the baby’s fingers, her face flooded with emotion, her lips parting in disbelief and awe. She then looked up at Vikrant and, with trembling lips, said.

“My… Manyata…”

Vikrant turned to Jhankar at the sound of those words. They hadn’t yet told Sonia the baby’s name. But the way she called her, so full of feeling, made it clear to everyone in the room just how deeply connected she felt. Her heart had somehow known. Sitting directly in front of her, Vikrant placed his hand gently under his daughter’s tiny back, supporting her, and then softly rested his other hand atop Sonia’s, which was placed protectively over the baby’s chest.

Sonia turned her face toward Vikrant and smiled. But this time, tears had pooled in her eyes. She looked at him again, this time more intently, and her lips trembled as she whispered once more.

“Manyata…”

Seeing tears of joy in his mother’s eyes overwhelmed Vikrant with emotion. He couldn’t speak. His throat tightened, and all he could do was nod softly, holding back the wave of feelingssurging through him. Sonia gently placed her palm on his cheek, looked at him with a rare clarity in her eyes, and said,

“Vikrant…”

Everyone in the room turned to look at her, startled. It was the first time in all these years that Sonia had called Vikrant by his name. She had always remembered her son, Vikrant, in her mind, clinging to his memories… but had never once spoken his name aloud in his presence. Now, witnessing her utter his name while gazing directly into his eyes was truly miraculous. A profound, beautiful moment.

Everyone's joy and astonishment were evident on their faces. It felt as if time had paused to witness this tender, fragile healing. And in that moment, their broken pieces began stitching themselves quietly back together, threaded by the tiny hands of a newborn named Manyata.

~~~~

Jhankar was sitting beside Sonia, who had little six-month-old Manyata lying on her legs as she gently massaged her with loving hands. Sharda sat nearby, smiling non-stop, watching the sweet scene. Sonia preferred to handle most of Manyata’s care on her own, as if nothing else in the world mattered to her anymore. And tiny Manyata, too, would become her chirpiest self the moment she was in Sonia’s arms.

Just then, Vikrant walked into the room, holding a small bowl of food he had lovingly prepared for his little daughter. Every day, he looked up new recipes just to make something delicious and nutritious for her. As he sat down beside Sonia, Manyata’s eyes lit up, and she immediately began squealing and calling out excitedly. Vikrant chuckled, pulling her into his arms and saying,

“Of course I know you were waiting just for me…”

Sharda burst into laughter at his words. Her gaze then drifted toward the showcase, where the old doll still sat, untouched for six months now. From the day Sonia first held Manyata in her arms, she had left the doll behind completely. That moment had marked a shift, one Sharda could never forget. Smiling warmly at Jhankar, Sharda said.

“Life is so incredibly beautiful… But people often don’t even try to see it. Look at us—how happy and whole our family feels together now.”

Jhankar looked on with a soft smile, her eyes fixed on Vikrant, who had completely transformed into a child himself while playing and feeding Manyata. Sonia occasionally scolded him for his tiny mistakes while handling the baby, but Vikrant only enjoyed her chiding like a pampered son.

Her gaze stayed on Vikrant, not just because he was being adorable with their daughter, but because he had truly changed. He wasn’t just more sensitive toward the women in the house but also spoke to everyone with a deep sense of respect and humility. To her, this growth in him felt like a priceless reward.

Just then, Vikrant caught her looking. He glanced at Sonia and Sharda quickly to ensure they weren't watching, then made a playful pout and blew her a kiss before breaking into a smile. Jhankar giggled and left the room, pretending to be coy.

Vikrant was tempted to follow her immediately, but he refrained. His daughter was in his arms, his mother was mock-scolding him, and his other mother, Sharda, was relishing every moment of this playful chaos. So, he chose to stay and savor this rare, complete feeling of family.

Once everything had settled and Vikrant was finally free, he headed to their room. As he stepped in, he found Jhankar standing quietly by the window, looking out at the evening sky. Without saying a word, he walked up behind her and gently wrapped his arms around her.

“I have fallen in love with you again…” he whispered softly.

Hearing his words, Jhankar smiled. She slowly turned around and placed a sensual, tender kiss on his lips. She had entered Vikrant’s life as a substitute meant to fill a gap left by the past. But somewhere along the way, she had redefined his entire existence, turning his life into something truly beautiful.

And Vikrant, too, had changed her life in countless ways. It was his trust, his unwavering support, that helped her climb every step and reach dreams she once considered impossible. What had started as a compromise had now become their most cherished reality. Together, they had reshaped each other's lives completely.

Love doesn't always arrive with noise and drama—it often enters life quietly. But once it’s there, it doesn’t take long for life to transform in the most beautiful ways.

When love becomes your purpose, life itself creates new paths—ones filled with meaning, hope, and belonging.

THE END