Page 95 of Strictly Solo

“Stay,” he whispered.

“Ruhaan…” she hesitated, shaking her head. “We shouldn’t—”

“Please, Naina,” he interrupted, his eyes earnest. “Just a little longer. I leave tomorrow, and... I just want this time with you.”

His sincerity made her relent. “Fine,” she sighed. “But only because you’re leaving tomorrow.”

He smirked, but the way his eyes lingered on her made her heart skip a beat.

“Show me that photo album I saw in your room earlier? I’d love to see more of Neil’s childhood.”

Naina hesitated.

“It’s just memories of Neil and me, from his birth until now. Nothing special.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see it. I want to be part of those memories, even if only through these pictures.”

Naina was unsure how to respond. Silently, she walked to her bedroom and returned with the album. Setting it on the couch, she hesitated before opening it. The first photo was of tiny Neil, barely a week old, cradled in Naina’s arms. Her exhausted smile spoke volumes about the sleepless nights ahead.

“This was his first week at home,” she explained, her finger tracing the edge of the photo. “I was terrified to even hold himat first. He was so small, so fragile… I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

Ruhaan gazed at the picture with admiration.

“You did more than just ‘do it’. You gave him a home, a life.”

In the next picture Neil was a toddler, sitting in a high chair, his face smeared with food. Naina laughed softly. “He hated carrots. I had to trick him into eating them.”

Ruhaan chuckled as he imagined her in that moment. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

Page after page chronicled Neil’s journey: his first wobbly steps, caught mid-tumble with Naina’s hands just visible at the edge of the frame, ready to catch him. His first birthday, face covered in cake frosting, eyes sparkling with joy. A candid shot of him asleep surrounded by stuffed animals, each one carefully arranged around him by Naina to keep him company.

“This was his first day of school,” Naina said, pointing to a photo of Neil in an oversized uniform, his small hand clutching Naina’s skirt as he half-hid behind her.

“He didn’t want to go,” Naina murmured. “He kept saying, ‘Mumma, don’t leave.’”

Ruhaan’s gaze lingered on the picture before flicking to her. “He’s lucky to have you.”

The pictures continued: Neil learning to ride a bicycle, his first lost tooth, countless moments of ordinary joy captured forever. Neil’s fourth birthday, where he had cake smeared all over his face. A picture of Naina teaching him how to tie his shoelaces. His seventh birthday party, where he stood proudly in front of a cricket-themed cake. In every image, the bond between mother and son shone through…in their matching smiles, their laughter, the way they always seemed to be reaching for each other.

A tear slipped down his cheek as he stared at those pictures. Her heart ached as she instinctively reached out, her thumb brushing the tear away.

“Ruhaan…”

“Let it fall,” he said catching hold of her wrist gently. “I never realized how much I lost by walking away seven years ago. We could have raisedhimtogether.”

Naina’s own eyes brimmed with tears.

“Ruhaan, please don’t—”

“I mean it, Naina,” he interrupted. “If I hadn’t backed out of our wedding seven years ago... if I hadn’t been so selfish… I would have been in every single one of these pictures.”

Naina bit her lip, her tears spilling over and her heart slowly opening up.

“I was so angry at you,” she confessed. “I hated you for not fighting for us, for our wedding. How could you deny us just because I wanted to raise a baby who had no one else?”

Ruhaan put the album away and pulled her close. His thumb gently wiped away her tears.

“I was a coward,” he admitted, his own tears falling freely now. “I was too focused on my career, too scared of the responsibility. I didn’t think I could be a father... not to Neil, not to anyone. And while I was being selfish, you were selflessly loving a child who wasn’t even yours.”