Chosen Love

💌 CHAPTER 59

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"Mumma, stop! No-Tie Ruhaan giggled, twisting his torso in a full 360-degree wiggle that made it impossible for Ruhika to button his school blazer.

At four-and-a-half, Ruhaan was a whirlwind of nursery-rhyme logic and boundless energy.

He wasn't the wobbling toddler anymore; he was a slender, bright-eyed boy who looked exactly like Ruhika with wide doe eyes and carried Shivansh's chin and dimpled smile

He began to hum a distorted, bouncy version of a cartoon theme song, his little head bobbing rhythmically. "Da-da-da-vroom! Da-da-da-vroom!"

"Ruhaan, bachha, just two minutes," Ruhika pleaded, pinning him gently between her knees so she could straighten his tie. "You look like a little gentleman. Don't you want to see your friends?"

On their bedside corner, Shivansh flipped through Ruhaan's school diary, checking for any frantic notes from the teacher about "crayons in ears" or

"extra juice needed."

"No chips for breakfast, Champ," Shivansh called out, his voice a warm rumble as he zipped up the small, dinosaur-themed backpack.

He carefully tucked a steel tiffin inside, making sure the parathas were wrapped just right. "And I checked the diary. No 'stay-at-home' holidays today. But... I did put a secret surprise in your bag."

Ruhaan stopped humming mid-note. His big, doe eyes—widened with instant curiosity. "Su-pwise? For Ruhaan?"

Ruhaan looked torn. He looked at the TV, then at the backpack, then at his father's dimpled smile.

"Is it... chocate?" he whispered conspiratorially.

"It's a secret," Ruhika chimed in, kissing the tip of his nose now that the blazer was finally straight.

"But I heard it's a very crunchy secret."

Ruhaan let out a dramatic sigh, the weight of the world on his four-year-old shoulders.

"Okay. I go. But no more ties tomolo? Tie for Papa, no Ruhaan

The transition from the house to the driveway was always a tactical maneuver. Shivansh held Ruhaan's hand, the boy's tiny backpack bouncing against his legs, while Ruhika followed behind with a spare water bottle and a final, lingering kiss for both her boys.

"Be a good Baby okay?" Ruhika whispered, leaning into the car window after Shivansh had buckled Ruhaan into his car seat.

"Bye Mumaaa"Ruhaan shouted, though his hand was gripped tightly around his favorite plushie which found its permanent seat in the car

As Shivansh pulled the car out of the driveway, the atmosphere shifted into their private commute ritual.

The sleek interior of the SUV, usually a place of high-stakes conference calls and financial news, or soft melodies was now filled with the chaotic shrill of a nursery rhyme and Ruhaan's unfiltered observations.

"Papa, look! Red car! Red car is... fast-fast?" Ruhaan asked, his face pressed against the glass as a sedan zipped past them.

"Very fast-fast, Champ," Shivansh replied, checking the mirror to catch the boy's reflection but we should follow rules right?

Ruhaan hummed for a second, kicking his legs back and forth against the seat. "Why rubes?

Shivansh chuckled, the dimple in his cheek deepening.Rules protect us, keep the cars from bumping into each other. Just like rules at school keep the babies from bumping into the blocks."

As they neared the school gates, Ruhaan's chatter slowed down. He reached out his small hand toward the front seat, and Shivansh instinctively reached back, letting the boy wrap his tiny fingers around his thumb.

"Papa"

"Waiting at the gate, and we can go get an ice cream if you're a good boy."

Ruhaan's face lit up, the temporary "school-blues" vanishing at the mention of a treat.

"Ice-weam! Chocate !

Shivansh pulled up to the drop-off point, watching as the teachers approached. He unbuckled the boy, giving him one last, firm squeeze that smelled like home and morning toast. "Go get 'em, Champ."

Ruhaan hopped out, took the teacher's hand, and then turned back to wave frantically. "Bye-bye, Papa!

Shivansh sat in the car for a long moment, watching the small, blazer-clad figure disappear into the building. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, a small, proud smile playing on his lips.

The Titan of industry was ready to face a thousand audits, but nothing compared to the high-stakes negotiation of a car ride with a four-year-old who thought paper was yucky.

He shifted the car into gear, the echo of Ruhaan's babble still warming the quiet cabin as he headed towards home.

The morning sun flooded the Kapoor kitchen, casting long, golden rectangles across the marble island where Ruhika was expertly multitasking.

With a phone pressed between her shoulder and ear, she was finalizing the floral installations for a high-profile corporate gala, her voice calm and authoritative

element. Simultaneously, her hands moved with grace, plating breakfast for Shivansh

She hung up just as the heavy tread of Shivansh's footsteps echoed in the hallway. He entered the kitchen looking every bit the formidable man in a charcoal-grey suit, though his tie was still draped loosely around his neck.

Shivansh didn't sit down immediately. Instead, he walked around the island, his gaze lingering on his wife. He marveled at her—how she could navigate the chaotic world of event management, leading a team of fifty, and still be the anchor that kept their home feeling like a sanctuary.

"You're a force of nature, Ruhi," he murmured, his hands finding her waist and pulling her into the warm circle of his arms.

"How effortlessly you manage to be a CEO and the heartbeat of this house at the same time is the only thing I haven't been able to logically explain."

Ruhika leaned back against his chest, her hands resting over his on her stomach. "It's called passion, Ansh. I love my work, but I love this—this life we built—infinitely more. And you Mr, you make things indefinitely easier and worthwhile

Shivansh turned her around, his amber eyes darkening with a familiar, slow-burn heat. The professional distance of the morning dissolved as he leaned down, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below her ear.

"You're distracting," he whispered, his breath a warm, intoxicating ghost against her skin. "I have a meeting in forty minutes, and all I can think about is how much I don't want to leave this kitchen."

Ruhika let out a soft, melodic laugh, her fingers tangling in the silk of his loosened tie. "Glad, I still have the effect," she teased, though her breath hitched when his hands slid lower, pressing her firmly against the hard line of his body.

Only you have that effect baby, Shivansh murmured, his voice a low vibration that she felt more than heard. He tightened his hold for a heartbeat, his thumb tracing the curve of her hip through her trousers

Ruhika's eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and desire. She leaned in, her lips brushing his jawline just below the ear "Are you planning to take a day off?"

She playfully swatted his hands away and steered him toward his chair. "Eat. You have a long day, and I have a site visit for the royal wedding project. We both need our strength."

They settled into their morning rhythm, the clink of silverware against porcelain providing a steady beat to their conversation.

Shivansh made quick work of the pancakes, but his eyes never stayed on his plate for long.

He watched her—the way she meticulously checked her digital floor plans while sipping her tea, her brow furrowing in that cute, concentrated way that always made him want to kiss the stress away.

"The flower shipment for the Mehra event is delayed," she noted, her thumb flying across the screen. "But I've already contacted the secondary vendor in Ooty. We'll have the tuberoses by midnight."

"I'll be home late tonight. Dinner with the Singapore delegation," he said, his tone softening with regret.

Shivansh leaned down, catching her chin in his hand. He kissed her—not the quick, distracted peck of a man in a hurry, but a slow, lingering seal of their partnership.

It was a kiss that tasted of home, of deep-rooted support, and a promise to return.

"Don't work too hard," he whispered against her lips.

"Go conquer the world, Ansh. I'll be right here she replied with a wink.

He stepped out, his strides confident and purposeful, but he stopped at the door to look back one last time. Ruhika was already back on her phone, her professional persona sliding back into place, but she blew him a silent kiss that he caught and tucked into his pocket before the door clicked shut.

The house felt suddenly quiet, yet filled with the warmth of a morning well spent.

_________

The afternoon sun was warm against the windshield as Ruhika pulled up to the school gates, her heart doing that familiar little skip she felt every time she saw Ruhaan emerge from behind the gates

she spotted him instantly—his backpack slightly lopsided, his curls windswept, and a giant green smudge of what looked like leaf-paint on his cheek.

"Mumma! Mumma, see!" Ruhaan shouted the moment he spotted her car, his little legs moving in a frantic, joyful sprint toward her.

Ruhika hopped out and scooped him up, the scent of school glue and sunshine clinging to him.

"Hi, my brave boy! How was your day?"

Ruhaan babbled, his hands gesturing wildly as she buckled him into his seat. "The drum went boom-boom and... and Ms. said, 'Ruhaan, you are very loud!' Like a real lion!"

"Did you eat your paratha?"

Ruhika smiled, catching his sparkling eyes in the rearview mirror. "And what about the 'flens'? Did you play with anyone new?"

"But no roof. Because the sky is the roof, Mumma. Right? Sky is blue, so roof is blue."

Ruhaan's eyes went wide, and he practically vibrated in his seat. Chocate! Ice-weam! With the cwunchy bits!"

When they stepped inside the cool, sweet-smelling shop, Ruhaan marched straight to the glass counter, standing on his tiptoes to peer at the colorful tubs.

Ruhaan let out a dramatic, soul-crushing sigh

"pweaasee Mumma, one for Papa"

She shook her head and said, "Papa is in office, haina, the ice cream will not wait for him, we will come again, till then you get to have just one big chocolate scoop"

"Mumma? When I'm big like Pa-pa... I eat ten? Ten-ten ice-weams?"

The quiet of the afternoon evaporated the moment the front door clicked shut. Ruhaan burst into the living room like a whirlwind, dropping his backpack in the middle of the hallway as if it were a discarded piece of evidence.

"Dadi! he shouted, racing toward Sunita, who was already waiting on the sofa with a bowl of chopped Makhana and a hopeful look in her eyes.

Chal ab khana kha le and have some rest, then we will study A-B-C song together

"They want to stay in the book. I go play vroom-vroom!"

The "Homework Battle" was a daily theatrical performance. Sunita, ever patient, patted the seat beside her whenever Ruhika was wrapping up her work. "If you do two lines of 'B', I'll tell you the story of the King Elephant. Only two lines beta

Ruhaan squinted, his little chin resting on the edge of the coffee table as he looked at the workbook.

He picked up his oversized wax crayon—bright orange—and hovered it over the page. "B is for... Ball?"

Ruhaan made one shaky, giant circle that took up half the page, then immediately added four sticks to the bottom of it. "No. B is for... Bug. With many legs.

He started making the bug crawl across the table with his fingers, making high-pitched skitter-skitter noises.

"Ruhaan! The bug needs to stay in the lines!" Sunita giggled, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as the boy started humming his 'bug song.'

Ruhika, watching from the table nearby while she checked her emails, couldn't help but chime in.

"Ruhaan, if Dadi says you're a good student, maybe we'll tell Papa you deserve an extra five minutes of the Bluey show tonight."

Ruhaan froze mid-skitter.

He looked at the orange 'B-bug' and then back at Sunita. "Okay. I do... one more"

For the next five minutes, he "studied"—which mostly involved him drawing tiny hats on every letter and explaining to a bewildered Sunita that 'C' was actually a broken cookie and it was very sad because it couldn't be eaten.

"See, Mumma! Hogyaaa! he cheered, slamming the book shut after exactly three minutes of actual work.

"Now, I go garden?

Sunita watched Ruhaan through the glass doors, her heart swelling as she saw him try to catch a butterfly. She leaned back against the cushions, a soft, wistful smile playing on her lips as she turned her gaze toward Ruhika, who was sitting across from her.

Ruhika Sunita began, her voice dropping into a gentle, teasing lilt. "Every time I see him running around like a little tornado, I can't help but think... how nice it would be to finally have a little girl in this house. Someone who wouldn't try to turn her 'A-B-C's into bugs."

Ruhika looked up from her tablet, a playful flush creeping onto her cheeks. "Ma, one Ruhaan is enough to keep the entire house on their toes.

She let out a dramatic, exaggerated sigh, leaning closer to Ruhika. "Thoda soch, beta

Ruhika felt a sudden, familiar heat crawl up her neck, her cheeks deepening into a soft rose hue as she ducked her head, pretending to be intensely interested in the hem of her sleeve.

She hadn't expected Sunita to be so direct, and the mention of a daughter felt like someone had flipped a switch in a room she hadn't dared to enter yet.

"Ma, please," Ruhika murmured, her voice uncharacteristically shy.

She tried to sound practical, to be the level-headed CEO, but the shield of her professionalism was paper-thin. Every time she saw a little girl in the park with pigtails and a tutu, or a tiny hand-me-down dress in a boutique window, a strange, tugging sensation settled in her chest.

Sunita noticed the way Ruhika's gaze drifted toward the garden, her expression softening into something far more vulnerable than her usual "Firebrand" persona. There was a flicker there—a tiny, hopeful flame that danced behind her lashes.

"Look at you," Sunita teased gently, leaning in to nudge her shoulder.

"You're already imagining it. A little girl who looks just like you, bossing her big brother around.

Think of the dresses, Ruhi. The tiny bangles.

The way she'll wrap Shivansh around her little finger until he forgets how to say 'no'. "

Ruhika let out a breathy, nervous laugh, her fingers tracing the edge of her tea cup. "He would be a goner, wouldn't he? He's already a softie for Ruhaan, but a daughter? He'd probably build her a castle by the time she was three."

The hope flickered brighter, casting a warm glow over her heart.

She imagined the quiet moments—braiding hair in the morning light, teaching a little girl that she could be both a princess and a powerhouse, and seeing a softer, even more protective side of Shivansh that only a daughter could unlock.

"I don't know, Ma," Ruhika said softly, finally meeting Sunita's eyes with a shy, genuine smile. "But... it's a beautiful thought. A very, very beautiful thought."

She looked back out at Ruhaan, who was now busy trying to "share" his toy car with a ladybug.

The chaos of her current life was loud and demanding, but for the first time, the idea of adding a little more "pink" to the "blue" didn't feel like a challenge to be audited—it felt like a dream that was maybe finally ready to be dreamt.

_____________

The nursery was bathed in the soft, milky glow of a star-shaped nightlight, casting gentle constellations across the ceiling.

Ruhika was perched on the edge of the bed, her voice a barely audible hum as she finished the final lines of the "Rocket to the Moon" story.

Ruhaan was finally still, his long lashes fanning against his cheeks, his small hand still clutching the edge of Ruhika's dupatta.

Just as she began to carefully untangle her fabric from his grip, the door creaked with agonizing slowness. Shivansh stepped in, his tie gone and his top buttons undone, the sharp silhouette of her man softened by the dim light.

Ruhika immediately pressed a finger to her lips, her eyes widening in a silent, frantic command: Don't you dare wake him.

Shivansh's lips quirked into a devastatingly handsome smirk. Instead of staying by the door, he moved with the silent, practiced grace of a shadow, closing the distance between them until he was standing directly behind her. Ruhika felt the heat of his body before he even touched her.

He leaned down, his chest brushing against her back, and draped his arms loosely around her waist. "Is the Lion finally down for the count?" he whispered into her ear, his stubble grazing her skin and sending a frantic shiver down her spine.

"Barely," she breathed back, leaning her head against his shoulder for a fleeting second. "If you breathe too loud, he'll start asking about invisible spiders again. Go away, Ansh."

Ruhika turned slightly in his arms, her eyes shimmering with a mix of exhaustion and affection. She reached up, her fingers tracing the tired lines around his eyes before smoothing his brow. "You're impossible.We have a child here, who is sleeping . Behave."

He stayed there for a heartbeat, anchored by her, before he finally pulled away to look at the small figure in the bed. His expression shifted into that raw, paternal tenderness that always made Ruhika's heart ache.

Shivansh leaned over the railing, brushing a stray curl away from Ruhaan's forehead with a touch so light it was almost a prayer.

"Goodnight, Champ," he whispered, kissing the boy's temple.

He straightened up, catching Ruhika's hand and pulling her toward the door. As they stepped into the hallway, leaving the Lion to his dreams, Shivansh didn't let go. He pulled her flush against him, the door clicking shut behind them.

"Now," he said, his dimple appearing as he looked down at her. "About that wife time..."

Inside their bedroom, the air was cool and smelled of the fresh linen and expensive wood that defined their shared sanctuary.

Ruhika sat at her vanity, slowly unpinning her hair, while Shivansh stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the city lights as he finally shrugged off his waistcoat.

"Ansh," she said softly, catching his gaze in the mirror. "I was thinking... maybe next month, we take Ruhaan to the mountains? He's never seen snow, real snow. Just think of him in a tiny puffer jacket, trying to 'roar' at a mountain."

Shivansh turned, a genuine smile softening his face. "The mountains, huh? He'd probably try to climb the highest peak by lunch. I like it, Ruhi.

"He'd love it," she murmured, her voice dropping an octave. She turned in her seat, taking his hands in hers.

"And you know... seeing him today with Ma, playing in the garden... it made me think about how much energy he has. He's so full of life, Ansh. But sometimes, when he's playing alone with his 'invisible spiders'..."

She paused, her thumb tracing the line of his knuckles. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his.

"I was talking to Ma today. About how the house feels so big sometimes. And I was thinking... maybe it's time? Time for a little sibling for him

The atmosphere in the room didn't just change; it froze.

Shivansh's hands, which had been warm and rhythmic against her skin, went completely still. The softness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden, shuttered look

He didn't pull away, but the emotional distance he created was instantaneous.

"No," he said.

The word wasn't loud, but it was heavy. It was a finality that Ruhika hadn't expected, not after the years of healing and the joy Ruhaan had brought them.

"Ansh, just think about it—" she started, her voice pleading.

"I said no, Ruhika," he repeated, his voice clipping the end of her name. He stepped back, breaking the physical connection.

He wouldn't look at her, instead focusing on the cufflinks he was suddenly, intently removing. "We have Ruhaan. He is healthy, he is happy, and he is enough. I'm not... I'm not doing that to you again."

The silence that followed was suffocating, thick with the ghosts of a night Shivansh had never truly stopped reliving. He finally looked up, and for the first time in years, Ruhika saw a flash of raw, unfiltered terror in the eyes of the man who feared nothing.

"Ansh, look at me," she whispered, stepping toward him, but he stayed rooted to the spot, his hands trembling slightly as he set the cufflinks down with a sharp clack.

"I remember every minute, Ruhika," he said, his voice dropping into a ragged, hollow rasp.

"Every hour of that night. I remember the way the monitors were screaming, the way the doctors were running, and the way your hand felt in mine—getting colder, losing strength.

" He finally met her eyes, and the sheer intensity of his gaze was a physical weight.

He took a step toward her then, but it wasn't to argue; it was to pull her into his arms with a desperation that bordered on frantic. He tucked her head under his chin, his heartbeat thundering against her ear.

"It's not just about the birth, Ruhi," he murmured into her hair, his voice breaking.

"I saw what it took from you. I saw the toll the pregnancy took—the exhaustion, the pain you tried to hide from me, the way your body was pushed to its absolute limit just to give us Ruhaan.

You are my world, and I will not gamble with the woman who is the reason I breathe. "

Ruhika pulled back just enough to see the moisture shimmering in his eyes.

here was only a man who loved his wife so fiercely that the thought of losing her was a shadow he couldn't outrun.

"I know how much you want this," he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw with an aching tenderness.

"I know the hope you've been carrying all day.

But I have watched you rebuild yourself, your career, your strength.

I have watched you become this incredible, fiery force again.

I cannot—I will not—be the reason that light flickers out again. "

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, his eyes closed tight. "We have our miracle, Ruhi.

Ruhika felt the tears finally spill over, the weight of his love wrapping around her like a protective shield. She realized then that his "no" wasn't a rejection of a child, but a desperate, romantic vow to protect the life they already had—to protect her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him as tightly as he held her, the silence of the room now filled with the profound, heavy beauty of a man who loved her more than his own dreams.

Ruhika didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into him, her hands coming up to cup his face, forcing him to stay present in the moment. Her eyes were swimming with tears,

She stepped closer, her chest pressing against his.

"Look at you and Aarav. Even when things were at their worst, you had each other's back.

You had a brother who knew your heart without you saying a word.

I want that for Ruhaan. I want our children to have that kind of armor—each other.

When we are gone, I don't want him to be a solitary island, Ansh. I want him to have his own team."

Shivansh's jaw tightened, his gaze flickering toward the window, but she wouldn't let him retreat. She moved her hand, tilting his chin until he was forced to meet her shimmering doe eyes.

"Look me in the eye, Shivansh Kapoor," she challenged, her voice dropping to a soft, heart-piercing level.

"Look me in the eye and tell me that when you see those little girls in the park, or in a shopping mall while picking out things for Ruhaan you don't hope for it.

Tell me you don't see a little girl with your dimples and my temper running around this house. Tell me you don't want her."

Shivansh stared at her, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. For a heartbeat, the longing was visible—a flash of a dream where he held a tiny daughter in his arms. But then, the memory of the hospital monitors hissed in his mind, and the walls went back up.

"It doesn't matter what I hope for, Ruhi," he rasped, his voice thick with a stubborn, protective ache. "Nothing—no dream, no daughter, no sibling for Ruhaan—is worth seeing you in that kind of pain again

Ruhika reached up, her fingers smoothing the tension in his shoulders, trying to melt the iron resolve she had hit. "It's not a gamble, it's a gift. We would be so careful,

Shivansh shook his head, stepping back and putting a few feet of agonizing space between them. He looked at her one last time, the love in his eyes warring with a fear so deep it was structural.

"I can't agree to this, Ruhika. Not tonight. Not when the memory of almost losing you is still the loudest thing in this room. It's better we just focus on the trip

He turned away, picking up his watch from the nightstand with finality. The conversation wasn't over, but for the first time in their marriage, they had reached a point where even their deep, searing passion couldn't bridge the gap between her hope and his fear.

______________

The morning of the trip arrived in a flurry of half-zipped suitcases, stray socks, and a four-year-old who was convinced that he needed to pack his entire collection of plastic dinosaurs, saying

"Alone they bore..Mumma"

"Yes, baby big mountains are cold but you can play, they have white snow"Ruhika laughed, kneeling to tuck a pair of thick woollen socks into his boots. "That's why we have these.

Ruhaan cheered, hopping on one leg. "And the snow... I pack my pocket and eat"

The chatter didn't stop as they moved toward the car. Ruhaan was a fountain of logic-defying questions.

"Papa, do the monkeys in the mountains wear sweaters?

As Shivansh pulled the car out of the driveway, Ruhaan began his travel anthem—a rhythmic, babbled song that involved the words "Snow," "Papa-bear," and "Blueberry" on a loop. "We go up-up! To the white-white!

Ruhika reached across the console, resting her hand on Shivansh's arm. He didn't say anything, but he covered her hand with his, his thumb tracing her knuckles.

The air was filled with Ruhaan's humming and the promise of the heights, the Titan and the Firebrand finding their rhythm again in the simple, messy joy of their son's excitement.

The SUV climbed the winding roads of the Himalayas, the engine humming a steady rhythm that competed with Ruhaan's high-pitched excitement. He was glued to the window, his breath fogging up the glass as he tried to count every "giant tree" they passed.

"Mumma, look! The clouds, Ruhaan pointed with a sticky finger at the mist rolling over the cliffs

He looked at Shivansh in the driver's seat. "Papa, why the road go round-round?

Shivansh chuckled, navigating a sharp hairpin turn with one hand while the other stayed linked with Ruhika's on the center console. "Maybe a little dizzy, Champ. It's a very tall mountain, so the road has to twist like a noodle so we can reach the top."

"Can we eat it? With sauce?"

Shivansh and Ruhika looked at each other suppressing their laughter and heaving a sigh, preparing another answer to satisfy their four year old

As they climbed higher, the air grew crisper, and the first patches of white began to appear on the jagged peaks in the distance. Ruhaan's babble shifted into a hushed, reverent whisper.

"Mumma... is that the ice-weam?

The three-day getaway was a blur of crisp air, thick woollen mittens, and the kind of laughter that only a four-year-old in a puffer jacket can provoke.

The moment Ruhaan's boots hit the snow at the resort, he froze. He poked a drift with his finger, his eyes widening "Mumma, it's... it's biting my fingers! he squealed, half-scared and half-thrilled.

"It's just cold, baby! Like your ice cream!" Ruhika laughed, showing him how to ball it up. Within ten minutes, the fear was gone. Ruhaan was busy trying to build a "snow-fort for ants," babbling to himself

Shivansh spent the afternoon being a "human sled," pulling Ruhaan across the flat patches while the boy shouted, "Faster, Papa"

The next day, they took a cable car higher up. Ruhaan pressed his face against the glass, humming a low, vibrating tune.

"We are birds now, Mumma. Look!

At the top, Shivansh tried to teach Ruhaan how to make a snowman.

Ruhaan, however, had other plans. He insisted the snowman needed a "tie" just like Papa.

He spent twenty minutes trying to wrap his own muffler around the snowman's "neck," babbling about how the snowman had a big meeting with the "Ice-King. "

"See, Papa? Like you! I made, Ruhaan cheered, patting the snowman's lopsided head. Shivansh caught Ruhika's eye, a rare, relaxed laugh shaking his chest.

At night, when their little boy was finally tired with his snow storms

Ruhika and Shivansh sat by the crackling fireplace in their wooden cabin. The room was cozy, smelling of pine and burnt orange.

Ruhika leaned her head on Shivansh's shoulder, watching the embers dance. "He's been so happy, Ansh. Did you see his face when he made that 'snow-bug'? He has so much love to give."

She felt Shivansh stiffen slightly, his hand pausing its rhythmic stroking of her hair. She took a deep breath, her voice softening into a gentle, loving whisper.

"I know you're scared. I know that night is burned into your mind like a scar," she said, turning to face him, her eyes reflecting the firelight.

"But look at me. I am healthy. I am strong.

And most importantly, I have you. With you beside me, holding my hand like you did then.

.. I know I can do it. We aren't those two terrified new parents anymore.

We are a team. Please don't take away being a sibling from him

Shivansh looked into the fire, his jaw tight.

"It's because we are a team that I can't do it, Ruhi. A team doesn't bench its star player when the stakes are life and death."

"Imagine a little girl in a pink puffer jacket, following him through the snow years later . Don't you see her?"

Shivansh closed his eyes, a pained expression crossing his face. For a second, the image took hold—a tiny girl with Ruhika's stubborn pout and his own eyes. But then, the phantom sound of a hospital heart monitor echoed in his ears.

"I see the girl, Ruhi. I do," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "But then I see the room where it was you, battling

Ruhika didn't push further. She simply held him, the silence of the mountains wrapping around them.

________

The late afternoon sun turned the park into a golden playground. Ruhaan was busy "rescuing" a ball from a bush, narrating his mission in a frantic whisper, while Shivansh and Ruhika watched from a nearby bench.

Suddenly, a tiny girl, barely three, wandered over.

She had messy pigtails tied with sparkling pink ribbons and was struggling to pull a small wooden duck on wheels. The duck tipped over, and she stopped, her lower lip trembling as she looked around

Shivansh froze. The "Titan" who could stare down a boardroom of angry investors was suddenly paralyzed by a toddler in a tutu. Without a word, he knelt on the grass. His large, scarred hands—usually so firm—gently righted the duck.

"There you go, little one," he murmured, his voice dropping into a register Ruhika rarely heard.

The little girl beamed, a dimple flashing in her left cheek that was a mirror image of Shivansh's.

She reached out, patted his knee with a sticky hand, and chirped, "Thank you Uncle before toddling away.

Shivansh stayed on one knee for a long beat, his gaze following her until she reached her mother. Ruhika watched him, her heart aching.

He didn't say a word when he sat back down, but the way his jaw worked and the lingering softness in his eyes told her everything. He didn't just want it; he was starving for it.

Later that night, the house was silent. Ruhaan was dreaming of toy cars and snow-bugs.

Shivansh was sitting up in bed, a thick financial report in his lap, but he hadn't turned a page in twenty minutes.

Ruhika emerged from the bathroom, her damp hair cascading over a silk robe that slipped just a little too far off one shoulder. She didn't say a word as she crawled onto the bed, moving with the deliberate, feline grace that always signaled trouble for Shivansh's focus.

She leaned over him, her scent—jasmine and something uniquely her—filling his senses. She began to trace the line of his collarbone with a slow, wandering finger.

"Ansh..." she whispered, her lips ghosting against his ear.

Shivansh shut his eyes tight, his grip tightening on the report until the paper crinkled. "Ruhika, don't. I'm reading. Very important... numbers. Risk stuff."

Shivansh groaned, finally dropping the report and catching her wrists. He tried to look stern, but his eyes were dark with a mix of frustration and longing.

"Pehle dur hato" he rasped, his voice thick.

"With you this close, I can never think straight. You know you're cheating. You're using my own weakness against me."

Ruhika didn't move back. Instead, she slid closer, her body a warm, soft weight against his. "Is it cheating to want to see a little girl with pink ribbons and your dimple? Because that little girl today... she had your smile, Ansh. You saw it too."

Shivansh let out a frustrated, defeated laugh, his forehead dropping against hers. "You are the most dangerous person I know. You know I can't say no to you when you look at me like that."

Shivansh let out a low, mock-aggrieved groan, his forehead still resting against hers. He looked at her through narrowed eyes, though the heat simmering in them betrayed his attempt at staying stern.

"Kya zamaana aa gaya hai," he muttered, his voice a gravelly mix of amusement and surrender.

He shook his head slowly, a self-deprecating smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Dekho zara... bechara pati is trying to be the voice of reason, trying to protect his peace and his sleep, and here is my wife—absolutely adamant on adding another little monster to the mix."

He shifted his weight, his arms tightening around her waist as he pulled her so close there wasn't even room for a sigh between them.

"I'm being seduced into fatherhood. It's a scandal, Ruhi, I have zero bargaining power in this house."

Ruhika let out a soft, triumphant giggle, her hands sliding down from his hair to rest flat against his bare chest, feeling the heavy, rapid thud of his heart.

"Maybe the Titan just met his match. And anyway, you love being bullied by me."

"But if you're so determined to win this argument, Firebrand... you should know I don't concede easily. You're going to have to work very, very hard to close this deal."

His hand moved from her waist, sliding slowly up the silk of her robe until his thumb brushed the sensitive skin just beneath her jaw. The teasing light in his eyes died out, replaced by a searing, concentrated heat that made her knees go weak.

"Since you're so worried about Ruhaan being lonely," he whispered, his lips grazing hers with agonizing slowness, "I suppose I should stop talking and start making sure he gets exactly what his mother wants."

He didn't give her a chance to respond. He claimed her mouth in a kiss that was no longer about "negotiation"—it was a deep, possessive seal of his surrender, proving that he was a man completely consumed by his wife.

As he carefully moved Ruhaan to his nursery, Shivansh's surrender wasn't just verbal; it was physical, a total collapse of his defenses as he pulled Ruhika into the deep end of the desire she had stoked.

He moved with a sudden, predatory grace, flipping them over until Ruhika was pressed into the plush mattress, the silk of her robe a cool contrast to the searing heat of his skin.

He didn't rush. Instead, he hovered over her, his eyes dark and dilated, tracing every inch of her face as if he were memorizing her for the first time.

"You have no idea," he rasped, his voice vibrating against her lips, "the kind of fire you play with when you push me this far."

"Then let it burn, Ansh," she whispered, her breath hitching as his hand slid down the curve of her hip, gathering the silk of her robe in his fist.

The night became a blurred symphony of whispered confessions and frantic, damp skin. Every touch was a communication—a silent dialogue between a man who had spent years guarding his heart and a woman who was determined to set it free.

When his lips traveled down the column of her throat, Ruhika arched against him, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Tell me," he commanded, his voice muffled against her skin, his breath leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "Tell me you're sure. Tell me this isn't just a whim."

The air in the room seemed to thicken, vibrating with the heavy, frantic pulse of two people who had moved past the point of teasing into a territory of absolute, raw necessity. Shivansh's touch was no longer hesitant; it was the touch of a man claiming his sanctuary.

His large hands, calloused and warm, slid over the curves of her waist, his palms dragging against the silk of her skin with a friction that made Ruhika's head toss back against the pillows.

Every touch was a question, and her body answered in a language of arching curves and soft, broken whimpers. As his fingers traced the sensitive line of her inner thigh, Ruhika felt a liquid heat pool deep within her—a desperate, aching readiness that only he could satisfy.

"Ansh..." she breathed, her voice a ragged plea as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him into the cradle of her hips.

He rose above her, his muscles taut and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat in the moonlight. He looked down at her, his expression a haunting mix of fierce possession and soul-shattering devotion

"Because once I'm inside, Ruhi... there's no turning back from this."

When he finally pushed forward, the entry was slow, deliberate, and breathtakingly deep. Ruhika let out a sharp, gasping cry that was half-sob, half-ecstasy, her fingers digging into the hard muscles of his back as she felt the sheer, overwhelming stretch of him filling her.

The rhythm that followed was primal and relentless, yet underscored by a profound tenderness.

Shivansh moved with a steady, driving power, each thrust a vow, each withdrawal a lingering caress.

He watched her face—the way her lips parted, the way her eyes clouded with pleasure—drinking in her reactions like a man dying of thirst.

He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a kiss that tasted of salt and desire, drowning her moans with his own.

"I love you," he groaned against her neck, his pace quickening, his breath hitching as he felt her internal muscles tighten around him in a frantic, rhythmic pulse.

Ruhika's vision blurred as the first waves of the climax crashed over her. She clung to him, her voice breaking into a series of soft, repetitive cries as she shattered beneath him.

Sensing her release, Shivansh let out a low, guttural roar of surrender, his body shuddering with the force of his own ending as he buried himself as deep as possible, holding her as if he intended to never let her go.

In the quiet, heavy aftermath, they remained joined, their heartbeats echoing against one another in a frantic, slowing duet.

Shivansh collapsed against her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his breath hot and ragged against her skin.

The act had been erotic, yes, but it had been something more—a deliberate, soul-deep promise to build a future together, one breath and one heartbeat at a time.

_____________

One month later, the grand ballroom of the Taj was a sea of shimmering silk, sharp tuxedos, and the subtle fragrance of thousands of imported lilies—a decor scheme Ruhika had personally overseen.

As the CEO of Soulcraft Designs, she was no longer just a name in the industry; she was the architect of dreams for India's elite.

The "Asia Pacific Excellence in Design" gala was the pinnacle of the year, and Ruhika sat at the head table, looking every bit the powerhouse in a structured, midnight-blue saree that glittered like the evening sky.

"And finally," the presenter's voice boomed over the speakers, "for redefining the landscape of luxury event design and her visionary leadership at Soulcrafts the Creative Entrepreneur of the Year award goes to—Ruhika Mehta Kapoor."

The room erupted. Ruhika felt her heart hammer against her ribs, but before she could even stand, she was nearly knocked back by a small, enthusiastic force.

"Mumma! That's you! They said your name!" Ruhaan squealed, jumping up in his miniature tuxedo, his little bow tie slightly crooked from a night of excitement.

Shivansh stood beside him, his hand resting firmly and proudly on the small of Ruhika's back. He wasn't the "Titan" of the boardroom tonight; he was a man absolutely captivated by his wife's success. He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear amid the thunderous applause.

"Go get what's yours, Meri Jaan," he whispered, his voice thick with a pride that made her eyes sting.

"I told you—no one could afford you, and now the whole world knows why."

Ruhika walked up to the stage, her stride confident and graceful. As she accepted the heavy crystal trophy, her gaze immediately sought out her "boys" in the front row.

"I started Soulcrafts with a sketchbook and a lot of stubbornness," Ruhika said into the microphone, her voice steady.

"But I stand here because I have a foundation that never shakes.

To my husband, who fuels my dreams but never limits them, and to my son, who reminds me that every big event starts with a good morning from him and ends with our bedtime stories—this is for us.

I am no one, without them, because they let me be who I am"

Down in the audience, Ruhaan was clapping so hard his hands were a blur. "Look, Papa! Mumma has a toffee

Shivansh laughed, scooping the boy onto his shoulder so he could see her better. He didn't care about the cameras or the high-profile guests watching them. He looked up at Ruhika on that stage, silhouetted by the spotlight, and raised his glass in a silent toast.

Later, as the crowd thinned and the music softened, Shivansh found her in a quiet corner of the foyer, the trophy sitting on a marble plinth beside her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her back into his warmth.

"Entrepreneur of the Year," he mused, his chin resting on her shoulder. "Does this mean I have to make an appointment to see you now?"

Ruhika turned in his arms, looping her hands around his neck. "For you, Mr. Auditor, I think I can squeeze in a lifetime appointment."

The drive home was a rare bubble of tranquility.

Ruhaan, exhausted from the adrenaline of the gala and the weight of his "big boy" tuxedo, had fallen asleep before they even cleared the hotel gates.

His head was pillowed against his mother's warmth , a tiny, rhythmic snore escaping his lips—the only sound in the car besides the low hum of the engine and the distant city night.

When they pulled into the driveway, Shivansh moved with practiced efficiency. He didn't wake the boy; instead, he lifted him with a strength that looked effortless, cradling his son against his shoulder. Ruhika followed close behind

Upstairs, they tucked Ruhaan in together. The room was quiet, save for the soft whir of the air conditioner. Shivansh lingered for a second, adjusting the duvet and kissing the boy's forehead, his expression a mixture of profound peace and the protective fierce love that defined him.

When they finally stepped into their own bedroom, the atmosphere shifted instantly. The gala, the lights, and the accolades felt like they belonged to another world. Here, it was just them.

Ruhika set her award on the vanity, the crystal catching the moonlight streaming through the window. Shivansh walked up behind her, his hands coming to rest on her waist, his thumbs tracing the line of her hip through the fine silk of her saree.

"You were incredible tonight," he murmured, his voice low and vibrating against the nape of her neck. "The way you spoke... the way you lead. I don't think I'll ever get used to being the luckiest man in the room."

Ruhika turned in his arms, her hands sliding up to his chest, unfastening the buttons of his shirt one by one.

"I didn't do it alone, Ansh. Every time I looked at you and Ruhaan tonight, I remembered why I work so hard. It's for this. For us."

He caught her hand, pressing a lingering kiss to her palm before pulling her flush against him. Shivansh picked her up then, a low laugh escaping him as she squealed in surprise, and carried her toward the bed.

The moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains, silvering the edges of her midnight-blue saree, but the heat radiating between them was far more intense

He hovered over her, his weight supported by his forearms, his eyes dark with a hunger that the gala's champagne could never satisfy. His hands, large and steady, began the slow, agonizingly deliberate task of unwinding her saree.

Each fold of silk he pulled away felt like a layer of her professional armor being shed, leaving only the woman who belonged entirely to him.

Ruhika arched her back as his mouth found the sensitive dip where her neck met her shoulder, a soft, broken moan escaping her. She reached up, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer until their heartbeats thundered in a single, frantic rhythm.

"I don't care about the crystal, Ansh," she whispered, her voice thick with a shimmering, raw honesty. She pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, her hands cupping his face. "My lifetime achievement isn't on that stage. It's right here.

The vulnerability in her voice shattered the last of Shivansh's restraint.

He captured her mouth in a wet, deep kiss that tasted of salt and absolute surrender, his tongue tangling with hers in a desperate dance.

He stripped away the rest of their clothes with a feverish urgency, his skin sliding against hers in a friction of heat and silk.

His hands wandered with possessive familiarity, tracing the curve of her waist before sliding down to the center of her desire. Ruhika gasped as his fingers found her—hot, slick, and aching for him.

He teased her relentlessly, his touch a blend of expert precision and primal need, until she was sobbing his name into the pillow, her body trembling on the precipice.

"Ansh, please..." she begged, her legs wrapping around his waist, drawing him into the cradle of her thighs.

He rose above her, his muscles taut and glistening with sweat, looking like a god of ancient stone brought to life by the fire in her eyes. "Look at me, Ruhi," he commanded softly.

As she met his gaze, he pushed forward, a slow and agonizingly deep thrust that seemed to reach the very core of her soul. Ruhika's eyes widened, a sharp, ecstatic cry echoing in the quiet room as he filled her completely, his body a perfect, heavy anchor to her soaring spirit.

The rhythm they found was one of seasoned lovers—He pulled her legs higher, draping them over his broad shoulders to create a path that allowed him to sink into her with agonizing depth.

Each thrust was slow and deliberate, that made Ruhika's vision blur.

She felt him at her very center, a heavy, searing presence that seemed to touch the parts of her she kept hidden from the rest of the world.

"Ansh... Ahhh..please," she whispered, her voice breaking as she reached up, her fingernails grazing the damp, hard muscles of his back.

He didn't speed up; instead, he leaned down, his chest crushing hers, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was wet and demanding.

He moved with a rhythmic, driving power that was both punishing and exquisite.

Ruhika's head tossed back against the pillows, her breath coming in jagged, shallow hitches.

Every time he withdrew, the absence felt like a physical ache, and every time he surged back in, she let out a soft, guttural cry of completion.

His eyes were dark, a swirling storm of desire and a terrifyingly fierce love. "Tell me you feel this. Tell me you're mine."

The pace shifted then, the slow deliberation giving way to a frantic, desperate urgency. The bed groaned under the force of his thrusts, the rhythm becoming a frantic percussion that echoed the thundering beat of her heart.

Ruhika felt the tension coiling in her gut, a white-hot spark that was rapidly expanding into a forest fire. She arched her back, her internal muscles clenching around him in a frantic, rhythmic pulse that nearly broke his resolve.

Shivansh let out a low, ragged groan, his pace becoming relentless as he felt her begin to shatter. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath scorching her skin, his body a glistening map of sweat and strained muscle.

As the final, devastating wave of pleasure hit her, Ruhika cried out his name, her world dissolving into a haze of gold and heat.

Sensing her release, Shivansh gave one final, powerful surge, a guttural roar of surrender escaping him as he followed her into the abyss.

He held her with a desperation that bordered on worship, his body shuddering with the force of his climax, grounding them both in the silent, shimmering aftermath of a love that was finally, completely, without limits.

_______