Epilogue
It was just another normal morning in the Malhotra mansion, or so Ira thought. The sun had barely risen, casting a golden hue through the sheer curtains as she went about her routine. But something felt different today. The slight nausea she had been experiencing over the past few days seemed stronger, and the fatigue that clung to her bones was unusual. Dismissing it as stress, she tried to shake it off, but deep inside, a thought lingered.
A pregnancy test.
Her hands trembled as she held the tiny stick in her grasp, waiting for the results. Seconds felt like hours, her heart pounding in anticipation. And then, two faint pink lines appeared.
She was pregnant.
A sharp gasp left her lips as the realization sank in. Her body tingled with excitement, her hands flying to her stomach. A life—Aarav’s and hers—was growing inside her. Tears welled in her eyes, and before she could even process it, she ran out of the bathroom, straight to Aarav’s study.
He was on a call when she burst in, breathless and teary-eyed. Concern flickered across his face, and he immediately stood up. “Ira? What happened?”
She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she extended the test towards him, her hands shaking. Aarav’s eyes darted down, scanning the little stick, and then—
Silence.
Complete and utter silence.
His grip on the test tightened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His head snapped up, meeting her teary gaze. “You’re... we’re...”
Ira nodded, and before she could say anything, she was engulfed in his arms. A shaky breath left him, and when she pulled back slightly to look at him, she saw something rare—Aarav Malhotra, the ruthless businessman, had tears brimming in his eyes.
“You’re pregnant,” he whispered, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “We’re having a baby.”
A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled her into a deeper embrace, pressing a firm kiss to her forehead. “You have no idea how much I love you, Ira.”
The news spread like wildfire through the Malhotra household. Sunita, Aarav’s mother, was in tears, holding Ira’s hands and showering her with blessings. Vihaan and Kabir went into full-on overprotective brother mode, banning her from lifting anything heavier than a pillow. The entire family rejoiced, treating her like she was made of glass, and despite Ira’s endless protests, they wouldn’t let her do a single thing.
Aarav, though, was on another level. From the moment he learned about the pregnancy, he became an unstoppable force of love and care.
“You’re not touching that, sweetheart,” he’d say, snatching a simple grocery bag from her hands.
“Sit down, baby. I’ll get it for you,” he’d insist, even if it was just her reaching for a glass of water.
At night, he’d kneel before her, pressing soft kisses on her belly, talking to their unborn baby as if they could already understand him. “Little one, I hope you know your daddy loves you more than anything,” he’d whisper. “And you’re going to be the most spoiled baby ever.”
From the very beginning, Aarav was convinced it was a girl. “It’s a princess,” he declared to everyone, ignoring the doctor’s comments about waiting for confirmation.
Ira rolled her eyes. “Aarav, we don’t know yet.”
He smirked, placing a hand over her belly. “I know. It’s my daughter. Just wait and see.”
Her pregnancy was a beautiful chaos. The family’s excitement, Aarav’s endless pampering, and the constant laughter that echoed through the mansion made it the most blissful time of her life.
And then, the day arrived.
The moment her first cry rang through the hospital room, Aarav felt his knees give out. His world stopped as he heard his daughter’s voice for the first time. Tears streamed down his face as he walked into the room, his heart hammering in his chest.
Ira was exhausted, lying on the hospital bed, but she managed a weak smile as he rushed to her side. He didn’t look at the baby first. Instead, he hugged Ira tightly, pressing a lingering kiss on her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered against her skin, his voice breaking. “Thank you for giving me my little girl.”
Only then did he turn to the nurse, who gently placed the tiny bundle in his arms.
Aarav Malhotra, the man who had once believed love made people weak, broke down completely. His body shook with silent sobs as he cradled his daughter for the first time.
“Hi, baby,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m your Dada.”
His finger brushed against her tiny hand, and when she gripped it with her delicate fingers, he let out a choked laugh.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he murmured. “Since the moment I knew you existed, I’ve been waiting.”
When Ira finally asked what they should name her, Aarav didn’t hesitate. “Ambika.”
Ira blinked at him in surprise. “Ambika?”
Aarav looked down at his daughter, his gaze soft yet filled with reverence. “Because she’s the purest form of Durga Maa to me. And I’m going to worship her for the rest of my life.”
And in that moment, Ira knew—Aarav Malhotra was not just the love of her life. He was the best father their daughter could ever ask for.
One late night, in their cozy bedroom, Ambika was in her own little world, playing with her tiny hands when Aarav leaned over and whispered, "Do this to the baby, huh?" His voice was full of playful accusation as he looked at his daughter, his heart swelling with love. "When the day you will get married comes, I’m going to tell your husband that you might get a last tiny kiss, but I get the first kiss. And if he tries to take my place, I’m going to murder and whatever going to mess with you!" He kissed her little feet, his expression softening with every passing second.
Ira, sitting beside them, watched with an amused smile. "Aarav, she's barely a few months old, and you’re already talking about her wedding?"
Aarav turned dramatically, placing a protective hand on Ambika’s tiny belly. "Ira, my love, do you even understand? This little angel is my everything. No man will ever be good enough for her."
Ira rolled her eyes, used to his dramatic declarations, but her heart melted nonetheless. He was wrapped around Ambika’s little fingers, and everyone in the house knew it.
5 Years Later
Their home was filled with laughter, tiny feet running around, and a father who had long lost his sanity when it came to his little princess. Ambika, now a confident and mischievous five-year-old, had made it her life’s mission to exhaust her mother and manipulate her father into doing anything she wanted.
One particular morning, Ira sat on the couch, rubbing her temples as Aarav and Ambika danced around the living room, singing off-key to some cartoon theme song. "Aarav! She needs to finish her breakfast, not become a rockstar."
Aarav scooped up Ambika and twirled her in the air. "But Mommy, we’re practicing for our world tour! Right, baby?"
"Yes, Daddy! You and me, best team ever!" Ambika giggled, her little arms wrapping around her father’s neck.
Ira sighed, throwing her hands up in defeat. "This is what I deal with every single day. A grown-up child and a mini version of him."
The rest of the family found it endlessly amusing. Ambika had everyone wrapped around her fingers—her uncles, aunts, grandparents—no one could refuse her anything. But the person who spoiled her the most? Her father. If Ambika wanted ice cream at midnight, Aarav was already in the car. If she wanted to wear a princess dress to a family dinner, Aarav would personally make sure it was ironed and perfect.
One evening, as Ira prepared dinner, she heard giggles coming from the bedroom. Peeking inside, she saw Aarav lying on the floor, his face covered in stickers, his hair tied into tiny ponytails as Ambika clapped happily.
"Daddy, you look so pretty!"
Aarav groaned but smiled nonetheless. "Ambika, you’re going to ruin my reputation as a dangerous businessman."
"No, Daddy! You’re the bestest, handsomest, cutest!" She threw herself at him, hugging him tight.
Ira crossed her arms, amused. "Aarav Malhotra, CEO of Malhotra Industries, reduced to a dress-up doll by his own daughter."
Aarav sat up, shaking his head. "Correction—happily reduced to a dress-up doll."
Ira chuckled. "You two will drive me crazy."
He stood up, pulling her into his arms. "Crazy in love with us?"
She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away. "You and Ambika are a disaster together."
"A lovable disaster." He kissed her forehead before lifting Ambika onto his shoulders, her laughter filling their home.
And just like that, their life was perfect—chaotic, full of love, and beautifully imperfect in all the right ways.