Aditya winks. “And here I was, thinking we could just celebrate at home, you know, privately…”
My eyes widen, and my face flushes as his mom shakes her head. “Aditya, behave.” she chides before turning to me with a warm smile. “I made your favourite red sauce pasta.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I say softly, feeling a sudden lump in my throat. God, how much I love her affection, the way she makes me feel so loved.
Just then, the front door swings open, and my mom walks in, her eyes instantly finding me. A smile spreads across her face as she makes her way to me with that familiar warmth that always makes me feel like a child again.
“There she is,” she says, bending to place a kiss on my forehead. “The woman of the hour.”
Aditya’s mom stands up with a grin. “You’re right on time! We were just talking about how proud we are of her.”
I glance between my two moms, blinking away the happy tears threatening to spill. If someone had told me years ago that this would be my reality, I wouldn’t have believed it. But here we are.
Mom then walks over to Khushi, scooping her up and pressing a kiss to her chubby little cheek.
“You look just like your mommy,” she murmurs, making Khushi giggle as she snuggles into her Nani’s embrace.
Aditya grins. “She’s got my charm, though.”
I roll my eyes. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”
Laughter fills the room as we all make our way to the dining table, where a feast awaits. Bowls of fragrant curry, fresh rotis, crispy fritters, and, of course, my favourite red sauce pasta are laid out invitingly on the table.
As we take our seats, the lunch begins—not just with food, but with endless chatter, teasing, and laughter between bites. Aditya’s mom keeps piling food onto my plate, while my mom chimes in with playful scolding about how I never eat properly. Aditya and his dad get caught up in a debate about cricket, while Khushi happily munches on her pasta, completely content in her little world.
I sit back and glance around—at my family, at my little girl, at the people who make my world whole. I take it all in, letting the warmth of the moment settle deep into my heart. This… this is what true happiness feels like. This moment, this life—it’s everything I ever wished for.
Hours later, we’re back home. Aditya carefully places Khushi in her bed, moving with the gentleness only a father can have. She’s completely out, her tiny fingers curled into little fists, her long lashes resting peacefully against her cheeks. My heart melts at the sight as I watch him tuck her in with the utmost care.
“Good night, princess,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling her pink blanket over her. I switch off the main lights, leaving only the soft glow of the night lamp. I check the baby monitor, ensuring everything is set before we quietly step out, closing the door behind us.
As soon as we’re in the hallway, Aditya throws an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. “You sleepy, sweetheart?”
Even after all these years, my stomach still flutters at the way he says it. I glance up at him, knowing exactly where that playful glint in his eyes is leading.
“Maybe,” I reply, resting my head against his shoulder.
“Good. Because I have other plans for you.”
“What plans?” I ask, my hands already having a mind of their own, sliding up his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin.
A low moan escapes his lips as his muscles tense under my touch. In a swift, effortless motion, he scoops me up into his arms, carrying me bridal style. A surprised gasp leaves me before I instinctively wrap my arms around his neck, holding on as his smirk deepens.
“You’ll find out soon enough, wifey,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening with intent.
I laugh softly, resting my forehead against his. “You do know we had a long day, right?”
He starts walking toward our room. “And now, it’s time for an even better night.”
My heart races as the door shuts behind us.
“I love you, hubby,” I whisper, my fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw.
“I love you too, wifey,” Aditya’s eyes soften for a moment before darkening with something that always pulls me under. He gently lays me down on the bed, his body hovering over mine, caging me.
His thumb brushes over my lips, and I know it—we could have fought it, denied it, pushed each other away a million times, but we were always meant to end up here. I would have always belonged by his side as his wife. It was just one of those things that felt predestined, impossible to escape.
The End
