58. GOOD NEWS
VEERANSH:
She is still sleeping. Curled slightly on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek while the other rests loosely near her stomach. Her hair still carries faint stains of pink and blue from Holi. A little red gulal remains near her ear.
She looks peaceful. Too peaceful. But my mind is not.
For the past two weeks, something has felt wrong.
Her sudden cravings, her refusal to eat properly, the dizziness, sleeping at odd hours, mood swings, that strange glow on her face, and the way she unconsciously presses her palm against her lower abdomen.
She thinks I do not notice these things, but I notice everything about her.
Today, when she almost fainted in the garden and I carried her upstairs, something inside me shifted completely.
Suspicion turned into certainty. She is hiding something from me and I need to know what it is.
Not because I want to control her or question her, but because if something is wrong and I ignored it, I will never forgive myself.
I look at her sleeping form again. She will not wake up anytime soon. The bhang has not fully left her system yet. This is my only chance. Quietly, I step outside the room and pull my phone from my pocket before scrolling to our family doctor's number.
She answers on the second ring. "Hello, Veer beta?
" Her calm voice only increases the heaviness in my chest. "Doctor, can you come to the haveli right now?
" There is immediate concern in her tone.
"Is everything alright?" I close my eyes briefly before answering honestly.
"I am not sure." There is a small pause before she replies softly, "I will be there in twenty minutes.
" I exhale slowly after ending the call.
Even breathing feels difficult suddenly.
The doctor arrives quietly and Maa comes upstairs the moment she hears.
"What happened?" Maa asks immediately, worry visible across her face.
"She is sleeping," I answer, glancing toward the room.
"But something has been off for days." The doctor nods calmly and asks me to explain everything. We enter the room together.
Aarohi has not moved at all. The doctor checks her pulse gently, then her blood pressure and eyes. I stand at the foot of the bed with my arms crossed tightly while Maa remains near Aarohi's head, murmuring silent prayers beneath her breath.
"What symptoms have you noticed?" the doctor asks calmly.
I list everything carefully. "She has been eating less, then suddenly craving sour food.
Sleeping too much. Feeling dizzy. Nausea.
Mood swings. Weakness." The doctor nods slowly as if each answer confirms something already forming in her mind.
"When was her last cycle?" she asks next.
I freeze instantly. I do not know. Maa looks at me while I look back at her.
Then we both turn toward the doctor awkwardly. The doctor smiles faintly. "I see."
She checks Aarohi's pulse once more before gently pressing around her abdomen.
Aarohi stirs slightly but does not wake up.
The doctor's expression changes then. Not serious.
Not worried. Soft. She slowly looks up at me.
"Veer." My heartbeat becomes unbearably loud.
"Yes?" She smiles warmly before speaking the one word that changes everything.
"Congratulations." For a second, the word does not register at all.
"What?" My voice sounds distant even to me. "She is pregnant."
Everything around me goes silent. The air suddenly feels too thick to breathe properly.
My ears ring softly. Pregnant. Maa gasps quietly behind me.
"Really?" she whispers emotionally. The doctor nods.
"Yes. It is still early, but the signs are very clear.
" I feel as if the ground beneath my feet has shifted completely. Pregnant.
A child. Our child. My eyes move automatically toward Aarohi. She is still sleeping peacefully, completely unaware that everything has changed. There is life inside her. Because of us. Because of love.
My throat tightens unexpectedly. "Are you sure?
" I ask quietly. The doctor smiles again.
"Very sure." Maa's eyes instantly fill with tears.
"Thank God," she whispers emotionally. Slowly, I sit down on the edge of the bed because suddenly my legs do not feel steady anymore.
My eyes drift toward her stomach. It looks exactly the same.
Flat. Normal. And yet nothing is the same anymore.
The doctor continues speaking, explaining things carefully.
"She needs proper nutrition. No stress. No heavy activity. No junk food from outside."
I almost laugh internally because suddenly everything makes sense.
The cravings. The pickles. The ice cream.
The mood swings. The sleepiness. The dizziness.
The way she kept hiding things from me. She knew.
Did she not? The doctor finishes writing some supplements before standing up.
"I will confirm it properly with a test tomorrow morning," she says.
"But I am certain." I nod quietly. "Thank you.
" When the doctor finally leaves, Maa sits beside me slowly and places a hand on my shoulder.
"Veer," she says softly while tears shine in her eyes.
I look toward her. "You are going to be a father.
" The words hit differently when Maa says them aloud.
Father. I do not know whether I want to smile or panic.
My mind flashes back to the man I used to be.
Angry. Harsh. Broken. Then my eyes return to the woman sleeping peacefully on the bed.
The woman who changed me completely. The woman who forgave me despite everything. The woman carrying my child.
My chest fills with emotions too overwhelming to separate.
Responsibility. Love. Fear. Happiness. All at once.
"I did not deserve her," I whisper quietly.
Maa squeezes my shoulder gently. "Maybe you did not before.
But you do now." After that, she quietly leaves the room and gives us privacy.
I move closer to Aarohi carefully and brush the remaining color from her cheek gently.
She murmurs something incoherent in her sleep.
Slowly, I place my palm lightly over her stomach as if I am afraid to disturb something sacred.
I cannot feel anything yet. But knowing is enough.
"You were hiding this from me," I whisper softly.
A small smile forms on my lips despite myself.
"So that is why." Suddenly, every missing piece falls into place.
Her emotions, her sensitivity, the way she defended herself during dinner, the way she looked at me sometimes as if she was carrying something bigger than words.
I lean down and press a soft kiss against her forehead.
"You should have told me," I murmur quietly.
But deep down, I understand why she did not.
Maybe she was not sure yet. Maybe she was scared.
Maybe she wanted confirmation first. Carefully, I lie down beside her and pull her closer without waking her.
My arm wraps around her protectively. Not possessively.
Protectively. The word father still feels unreal in my head.
I imagine a tiny version of her running through this haveli someday, or maybe an unbearably stubborn little version of me.
A quiet chuckle escapes my lips. "She is definitely going to blame me for the Holi bhang incident," I whisper softly.
Even in sleep, her fingers twitch slightly before curling into my shirt again.
I close my eyes briefly. Thank you. To whoever is listening.
For this chance. For her. For this child.
When she wakes up, her world is going to change completely.
But for now, I let her sleep peacefully while I sit quietly beside her, allowing myself to absorb this moment fully.
Because from today onward, it is not just us anymore.
By the time she finally stirs awake, the sun has already set.
The room remains dim except for the soft yellow bedside lamp glowing quietly.
Outside, the laughter from Holi has faded into distant murmurs.
The haveli feels calmer now, washed clean after the chaos of colors.
But my world feels completely different.
I have been sitting here for hours, replaying the doctor's words again and again in my mind.
Congratulations. I do not think that word has ever felt this beautiful or this terrifying at the same time.
She shifts slightly before her eyes slowly flutter open.
She blinks sleepily, looks around the room, and finally notices me sitting beside her.
"You are still here?" she asks softly, her voice thick with sleep.
I lean forward slightly. "Where else would I go?
" She squints at me suspiciously. "What time is it?
" "Night." A quiet groan escapes her lips.
"I slept that long?" "Yes." She immediately tries sitting up too fast, forcing me to move closer instantly. "Slowly."
She pauses midway and narrows her eyes at me suspiciously.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" "Like what?
" I ask calmly. "Like I did something wrong.
" I almost smile at that because she has no idea how much has changed already.
"You did not do anything wrong," I answer quietly.
She rubs her eyes before asking nervously, "Did I embarrass you?
" "Yes." Her eyes widen instantly. "What did I do?
" "You poured water on me twice in front of my friend. "
Her jaw drops in horror. "No." "Yes." "I did not.
" "You definitely did." She covers her face with both hands dramatically.
"Oh God." I watch her carefully. This woman.
My wife. The mother of my child. She still has no idea that I know everything now.
Slowly, she peeks at me through her fingers.
"You are not angry?" "No." She lowers her hands slowly while studying my face.
"Then why are you so quiet?" Because everything changed today.
Because I want to protect you from everything now.
Because there is life growing inside you.
But I say none of those things yet. Instead, I stand up quietly and pour her a glass of water.
"Drink." She takes the glass while continuing to watch me carefully.
Then suddenly her expression changes. "You called the doctor, did you not?
" I do not answer immediately. Her eyes narrow further.
"You did." "Yes." She freezes completely.
"Why?" I sit beside her again before answering softly.
"For you." Her fingers tighten around the glass. "What did you tell her?" "Everything."
She swallows nervously. "And?" I look at her carefully now, watching every tiny expression on her face.
"And she told me something." Her breathing changes almost invisibly.
"What?" Instead of answering immediately, I gently take the glass from her hands and place it aside.
Then I hold both her hands in mine. "Your hands are cold," I murmur softly.
She tries pulling away slightly. "Veeransh ji, what did she say?
" I study her face carefully. There is fear there.
Nervousness. And something else too. Something that feels like she already knows.
"She said that you are pregnant." Silence fills the room completely after those words.
Her eyes widen slightly, but she does not look shocked.
She looks caught. My chest tightens painfully.
"You knew," I say quietly. She immediately looks down as tears gather in her eyes.
"I was not sure," she whispers weakly. "How long?
" "A week." My jaw tightens. "You did not tell me.
" Her voice trembles softly. "I wanted confirmation first."
"You were hiding things from me. Feeling sick.
Dizzy." She lowers her head further. "I was scared.
" That single word hits harder than anything else tonight.
"Scared of what?" I ask quietly. She finally looks up at me, eyes wet and vulnerable.
"Of your reaction." Something inside my chest breaks instantly.
"My reaction?" She nods slowly. "We did not plan this.
Everything happened so fast. Our marriage, our past, the way it all started.
" Her voice shakes badly now. "What if you were not ready? "
Without thinking, I move closer immediately.
"What if I was not ready?" I repeat quietly.
She nods again. "I did not want to force something on you again.
" Force. That word again. The past returns sharply for a moment.
My mistakes. My anger. My guilt. Gently, I cup her face in my hands.
"Look at me." Slowly, she does. Her eyes are filled with tears.
"Do you really think I would ever see our child as something forced?
" She says nothing. But that silence tells me enough.
I pull her into my arms suddenly and hold her tightly against me.
She gasps softly while my arms wrap around her protectively.
"Never," I whisper into her hair. "Never think that.
" Quiet tears begin falling against my chest. "I did not know how to tell you," she admits shakily.
"I thought maybe after Holi, after I became sure.
" I close my eyes briefly. "I would have found out eventually.
" A small shaky laugh escapes her lips. "You always do. "
I lean back slightly and wipe away her tears carefully with my thumb.
"I am going to be a father," I whisper softly.
The words finally feel real now. She nods faintly.
"And I am going to be a mother." Silence settles between us again, but this silence feels sacred instead of uncomfortable.
Slowly, I lower my hand toward her stomach.
"May I?" I ask quietly. She nods softly.
I place my palm gently over her abdomen.
It feels exactly the same as always. Yet completely different.
"There is really someone in there?" I murmur almost helplessly.
She smiles faintly. "That is what the doctor said.
" Slowly, I lean down and rest my forehead lightly against her stomach.
"Hi," I whisper awkwardly. A soft laugh escapes her lips through tears.
"It is too early for that." "I know." But I still do not move away.
Because for the first time in my life, I feel something bigger than myself.
Not anger. Not ambition. Not pride. Something softer. Something stronger. Purpose.
I finally move back up and look at her again carefully.
"You are not scared anymore?" I ask softly.
She studies my face for a moment before shaking her head.
"No." "Why?" A tiny smile touches her lips.
"Because you are not angry." I let out a faint laugh.
"I am terrified." Her eyes widen immediately.
"Terrified that I will not be good enough.
Terrified that I will not know how to be a father.
" She places her hand gently over mine. "You will be fine. "
"How do you know?" I ask quietly. She smiles softly.
"Because you already are." I raise an eyebrow at her.
She points at me weakly. "You did not let me go outside today.
You even locked the door." "That was control," I argue immediately.
"That was care," she corrects gently. I exhale slowly because maybe she is right.
Carefully, I help her lie back down before pulling her closer again.
"From now on," I say firmly, "no hiding things from me.
" She nods obediently. "No skipping meals.
" She makes an immediate face. "No bhang.
" A laugh escapes her lips. "No running around the garden.
" "That is unfair," she complains dramatically.
I narrow my eyes at her while she sighs loudly in defeat.
"Fine." I lie down beside her carefully and pull her into my arms once more.
This time, I am aware of everything. Her breathing.
Her warmth. The life growing inside her.
My hand instinctively rests protectively over her stomach again.
She looks up at me suddenly. "You are smiling.
" "Am I?" "Yes." I shake my head faintly.
"I cannot help it." She nestles closer against my chest before whispering softly, "Happy?
" I kiss her forehead gently. "More than I have ever been.
" And when she slowly falls asleep again in my arms, I remain awake a little longer, listening quietly to her breathing and feeling the silent rhythm of this new beginning.
Because from tonight onward, I am not just a husband anymore. I am someone's father. And I will spend the rest of my life becoming worthy of both of them.