2
*****
Much later, after the feast and the music and the dancing, after the children had finally crashed in exhausted heaps, Isha and Ashok walked along the shore. The moon was full and bright, casting a silver path across the dark water.
“Did you see my father’s face?” Ashok asked, his voice rough with emotion. “When he said Vaish was just like Sami?”
Isha nodded, squeezing his hand. “She is. So much like her.”
“And yet she’s completely herself too,” Ashok said. “Both of them are. They honor Sami and Ravi’s memory while being fully, wonderfully their own people.”
They walked in silence for a moment, waves washing over their bare feet, the cool water a pleasant contrast to the warm night air.
“What she said about family,” Isha finally said, her voice quiet. “About it being big and complicated and perfect.”
“It was beautiful.”
“It was true.” Isha stopped walking, turning to face her husband in the moonlight. “Ashok, I need to tell you something. Something I should have said a long time ago.”
He cupped her face gently, thumb stroking her cheek. “What is it?”
“For you to choose Vaish…” She took a shaky breath.
“Vaish as your successor, it makes me fall in love with you all over again. They’re all our children.
Maybe not from my womb, but from my heart.
Completely. Entirely. I know you could have chosen Vaibhav and—” she lost her words with overwhelming emotions.
“Isha—”
“I know how much you love the twins,” she continued, the words spilling out now.
“I know we’ve never treated them differently.
But I needed to say it and appreciate you.
When Vaish stood up there today, my heart was bursting not because I was proud of my brother’s daughter, but because I was proud of her as my daughter. ”
Ashok pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest. She could feel his heart beating, steady and strong.
“I know,” he whispered into her hair. “She made me a proud dad today. My only hope because I have no expectations on her three brothers. So glad she is the Chieftain heir. She embodies the perfect balance of her mom and her aunts.”
Isha smiled and nodded, feeling proud.
“When we lost Sami and Ravi,” Isha said, her voice muffled against his shirt, “I didn’t even want to take on the responsibility. But the way you loved them like they were yours, you were the one who taught me how to love.”
“They’re so lucky to have you,” Ashok said fiercely. “Both mothers, the one who gave them life, and the one who chose to give them everything.”
Isha pulled back to look up at him, tears glinting in the moonlight. “Did you hear what Vaish said? About how I make sure we celebrate Sami and Ravi’s birthdays every year?”
He nodded.
“That’s because they deserve to be remembered,” Isha said.
“They deserve to be honored. And Vaish and Vish deserve to know their parents, to carry their legacy forward. I never want them to feel like loving me means forgetting Sami and Ravi.” It was important for Isha as she grew up with that confusion.
Her aunt loved her so much, she felt guilty saying she missed her own parents.
“You are remarkable,” Ashok said softly. “Do you know that? Truly remarkable.”
“I’m their mother,” Isha said simply. “That’s all.” Isha never wanted to have children of her own. A decision born out of the fear of abandonment just like how she felt when her parents passed away. But then, she soon realized she wanted more children, a large family like Ashok’s.
They stood there on the beach and watched the moonlight dance on the water.
Behind them, the house held their sleeping children: Vaish and Vish, eleven years old and standing on the precipice of their teenage years.
Vaibhav, nine, was already showing signs of his father’s analytical mind and his mother’s empathy.
Vihaan, seven, the baby of the family who kept them all laughing with his endless energy.
Four children. Two by tragedy and choice. Two by love and intention. All of them, theirs.
“Remember when we thought this was going to be simple?” Ashok asked, breaking the comfortable silence. “That I could just marry you to have the ability to adopt the twins and you could go back to San Francisco?”
Isha laughed, the sound light and free. “We were both so na?ve.”
“Indeed.”
“And now?”
“Now I feel proud,” he admitted. “Very proud.”
Isha smiled feeling the pride fill her heart. “The boys have to live up to their sister’s awesomeness now.”
He nodded. “Four kids,” Ashok marveled. “When did we become a family of six?”
“I wanted a family just like yours. You are an amazing man because you grew up with sisters.”
Ashok pulled her close, his lips brushing hers. “Are you saying what I’m hearing? Another baby?” He chuckled.
She smiled. “If we can guarantee it will be a girl, then maybe. Vaish and I can’t handle the sausage fest if we add another boy to the mix.”
“I don’t think it’ll be too bad,” he nuzzled her cheek.
“We are perfect the way we are,” Isha said. “I love it that we found our way here.”
He kissed her again, this time slow and sweet and full of promise, the same way he’d kissed her on the lighthouse bridge ten years ago when he asked her to marry him as just Ashok.
The same way he’d kissed her on the plane to San Francisco when he revealed the twins were traveling with them.
The same way he’d kissed her on their third wedding day, surrounded by family from America.
When they broke apart, both smiling, Isha rested her head against his chest.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For everything. For the proposal. For seeing me when I was trying so hard to be invisible. For giving me Vaish and Vish. For giving me Vaibhav and my baby Vihaan. For giving me this life I never knew I wanted until I had it.”
“Isha.” He tilted her face up to look at him, his expression tender in the moonlight. “You gave me all of that. You took my broken pieces and built a family. You chose me when you could have walked away.”
“I could never walk away,” she said simply. “You’re my home.”
From the house, they heard a child’s mumble, probably Vihaan, the one who talked in his sleep. Without a word, they turned and walked back together, hands intertwined, ready to call it a night.
As they climbed the stairs to the house, Isha looked back once at the moonlit ocean, at the island that had become their sanctuary, at the life they’d built from love and loss and impossible choices.
“Third time’s the charm,” she murmured, echoing Ashok’s words from ten years ago when he proposed to her at the lighthouse. “With my Unwanted Husband, it’s also the third time’s forever.”
The End