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The moment I step into Vishnu’s bedroom, I’m speechless. It’s nothing like what I imagined. I expected something more practical from someone like him, maybe, functional and impersonal. But this… this is so different. The room exudes warmth, the kind that feels lived in and cared for, and is clearly meant for a family.

“Come on in,” he says as he walks ahead, holding Veer, who is babbling happily in his arms.

I follow, taking it all in. The king-sized bed, with its deep navy and grey bedding, is complemented by soft golden lighting that gives the room a cosy glow. A plush armchair sits by the window, next to a small table with a stack of books. Everything feels intentional, designed not just for him but for us.

But what truly stops me in my tracks are all the thoughtful additions for Veer. There’s a beautiful wooden crib near our bed, perfectly placed with colourful toys dangling above it.

“When did you do all of this?” I ask, taking in the baby-proofed corners, the changing station, and the custom-built shelf at the far end of the corner, stacked with diapers, toys, and baby essentials, all organised neatly. Everything Veer needs is already here.

I don’t know what to say. My throat tightens as I take another step forward, my hand brushing over the soft wood of Veer’s crib. Vishnu adjusts Veer in his arms, our sleepy son clutching his shirt.

“I told Dad about what we’d need, and you know him—he couldn’t wait to welcome Veer the way he deserves. He got it all done in no time. I just supervised to make sure this wasn’t just Vishnu Walia’s bedroom anymore, but our family space.”

The lump in my throat grows as I follow him to another door in the bedroom that I hadn’t noticed before. Vishnu opens it to reveal what used to be his study. My heart melts at the sight—it’s now fully transformed into a perfect nursery, mirroring the setup we had in our New York apartment. I can already feel the comfort it will bring to Veer, making the transition so much easier for him.

The room is painted in soothing shades of pastel blue and white. There’s a playmat sprawled on the floor, filled with more colourful toys. But then I notice something else too—a modern, cosy work desk by the window, perfectly positioned to keep an eye on Veer’s play area. I turn to Vishnu with a questioning look.

He smirks knowingly. “I thought you’d need a space to work while keeping an eye on Veer. I know how much you juggle between him and your business, so I wanted this room to have everything you might need. If there’s anything missing, just let me know. I’ll make sure it’s here.”

Tears spring to my eyes at his thoughtfulness. This man—this stoic, infuriating, yet caring man—he’s something else entirely.

“There’s only one thing missing,” I whisper, thinking of Meher and Devika’s cold reception downstairs. “But that’s something I need to fix myself. They’re my friends, and it wasmymistake. I’ll find a way to make things right with them.”

Veer chooses that moment to fuss, his tiny face scrunching up as he lets out a little whimper. Vishnu shifts his attention to our son, bouncing him slightly. “Looks like someone’s a bit cranky.”

Before I can move to take him, Vishnu says, “Go get changed and freshen up. I’ll look after him.”

“He needs a diaper change,” I warn, but Vishnu just nods confidently. It doesn’t surprise me anymore—he’s been such a hands-on father since coming back into our lives, making up for lost time with dedication that fills my heart.

“His diapers are in the blue bag,” I tell him, heading toward the bathroom. But something makes me pause. Turning around, I watch as Vishnu gathers the supplies and carefully places Veer on the changing station. Stepping closer, I stand on tiptoe to press a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you. For everything,” I whisper, my heart bursting with gratitude.

His eyes light up, but I’m not finished. “But I’m still mad about what you did with Zane,” I add firmly, though I can’t keep the smile completely out of my voice.

Vishnu tries to hold back his grin but fails miserably. He leans in, clearly intending to kiss me back, when Veer lets out another demanding cry.

“Papa’s coming, Veer,” he says, pulling back with obvious reluctance.

“I’ll let you handle that.” I stifle a laugh, biting my lip as I move toward the bathroom to freshen up.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I can hear Vishnu’s voice through the door, talking softly to Veer as he changes him. The love I feel for this man—for this family we’re building—leaves me breathless. Vishnu Walia may infuriate me at times, but there’s something about him, the way he’s always there for us, that pulls at my heartstrings in ways I never thought possible.

VISHNU

Simran is back from her shower. After handing Veer to Simran for nursing, I make my way downstairs. My mind is already making a mental checklist of things to do tomorrow, starting with getting a baby monitor installed in Veer’s nursery. Tonight, it doesn’t matter—he’ll be sleeping with us on the bed, tucked between Simran and me—but I can’t leave anything unchecked moving forward.

As I walk down the stairs, the sound of laughter from the dining area pulls me from my thoughts. Meher and Devika are busy setting the dinner table, their chatter filling the otherwise quiet space. Somewhere in the background, Dad is engrossed in what sounds like an important call with a minister. The familiar hum of politics never stops in this house.

Meher notices me first. “Vishnu, you’re here just in time. Dinner’s ready!”

“I’m not really hungry,” I respond, but Meher immediately shoots me down.

Her hands land firmly on her hips, and she gives me that familiardon’t test meglare.

“You can’t skip this. I’ve made everything especially for you,” she insists, and I see a glimpse of my little sister beneath the cold exterior she showed Simran earlier.

Devika smiles as she places the last bowl on the table. “He doesn’t stand a chance, Meher. Just make him sit.”