Chosen Love

💌 CHAPTER 60

The days following the gala were wrapped in a strange, shimmering tension—a quiet afterglow that lingered in the hallways of their home. Ruhika went about her work at Soulcraft with a distracted smile, while Shivansh seemed to have traded his intensity for a watchful, hovering tenderness.

One evening, after the house had settled into its usual nighttime hush, Ruhika sat at her vanity, staring at her reflection.

She wasn't brushing her hair; she was counting dates in her head for the hundredth time.

Shivansh entered, his tie already discarded, his eyes immediately finding hers in the mirror. He sensed the shift in her energy instantly.

"Ruhi? You've been staring at that same bottle of perfume for ten minutes. What's going on?"

Ruhika turned on her stool, her hands resting in her lap, fingers twisting together. "Ansh... I was looking at the calendar. I'm late." She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper that felt like a prayer.

"By a week."

The silence that followed was absolute. Shivansh didn't move. The air in the room seemed to crystalize around them.

His face went pale, his mind immediately flashing back to the monitors and the sterile hospital white of years ago, but then his gaze dropped to Ruhika's face.

She wasn't terrified; she was glowing with a fragile, defiant hope.

"A week?" he repeated, his voice raspy. He walked over, kneeling between her knees and taking her hands in his. His grip was firm, but she could feel the slight tremor in his fingers. "You're sure?"

"I think, but we need to take a test to be sure," she whispered, leaning forward until her forehead rested against his. "Don't be scared, Baby, Please don't

The next morning was a blur of nervous energy. They didn't go to their offices. Instead, they stood in their bathroom, the small plastic stick sitting on the marble counter like a ticking clock.

Ruhaan was downstairs with Sunita, blissfully unaware, his distant laughter floating up the stairs.

Inside the bathroom, Shivansh was pacing the length of the tiled floor, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

Ruhika sat on the edge of the bathtub, her eyes fixed on the timer on her phone.

"Three minutes," she whispered.

He reached out, pulling her up and tucking her under his arm. "Whatever it says, Ruhi... we're in this. Together. The best doctors, the best care. I won't let anything happen to you."

The timer chimed—a sharp, digital sound that made them both jump.

They moved to the counter as one. Ruhika's hand was shaking as she reached for the test, but Shivansh's hand covered hers, steadying it. They looked down together.

Two dark, unmistakably clear pink lines.

A sob escaped Ruhika's throat—a mix of relief and overwhelming joy. She pressed her face into Shivansh's chest, her shoulders shaking

Shivansh didn't say anything at first; he just closed his eyes, his arms wrapping around her with a force that was both protective and yielding.

He let out a long, shaky breath, his chin resting on top of her head. The fear was still there, a shadow in the corner of his mind, but it was being eclipsed by a rising, fierce warmth.

"Okay," he whispered into her hair, his voice thick with emotion.

"Okay. A little sister for our Lion. Or another Lion."

He pulled back just enough to cup her face, his thumb wiping away a stray tear. "You really are the most dangerous person I know, Meri Jaan. You got exactly what you wanted."

Ruhika laughed through her tears, looping her arms around his neck. "No, Ansh. We got exactly what we needed."

Shivansh didn't argue. He just kissed her—a deep, soulful seal on a new contract—as the reality of their growing world finally began to sink in

They didn't wait before confirming it, The drive to the hospital was a study in contrasts: Ruhika was a bundle of restless, shimmering energy, while Shivansh drove with the focused intensity of a man transporting the world's most fragile cargo.

When they reached the clinic, the familiar scent of antiseptic and lilies greeted them, but the usual clinical tension was shattered the moment they reached Isha's clinic, which she assured is low rushed at the time

Without thinking, Shivansh gave a sharp, authoritative knock and pushed it open, only to freeze mid-step.

There sat Rohan, perched casually on the edge of Isha's desk, mid-sentence and looking entirely too comfortable.

Isha jumped, her cheeks flaring a brilliant red as she shoved a pile of files toward Rohan to create some professional distance.

Ruhika, leaning against the doorframe, let out a delighted laugh, her eyes darting between her best friend and a slightly sheepish Rohan.

"Rohan? I didn't realize 'consultation hours' for her meant treating you. Is there a new protocol for surgeons we should know about?" she teased, her brow arched.

Rohan cleared his throat, sliding off the desk with a practiced, nonchalant shrug. "Just...Carry on

he muttered, making a quick exit while Shivansh let out a low, knowing whistle, a momentary break in his protective stoicism.

Once the teasing subsided and the room settled, Isha's professional mask returned, though her eyes remained soft as she performed the ultrasound after giving a blood sample to be accessed.

The rhythmic thump-thump of a tiny heartbeat filled the small room, a sound so powerful it seemed to vibrate the very walls

Shivansh reached for Ruhika's hand, his grip crushing yet trembling, his eyes locked onto the flickering image on the screen and when he moved to Ruhika's face, he found her grinning and wiped a lone tear, shaking his head, holding her hand tighter and giving a long pressed kiss to her forehead

They decided then to keep the news quiet until they were home, wanting to deliver it within the sanctuary of the family.

Dinner at the villa that evening felt heavy with anticipation. When Shivansh finally stood, his hand resting protectively on Ruhika's shoulder, and announced the news, the room exploded into a symphony of cheers and clinking glasses.

Sunita was in tears instantly, pulling Ruhika into a crushing embrace, while the staff scurried to bring out sweets. Aarav stepped forward, his smile practiced and polished.

"That's incredible news, Bhai. Truly. A sibling for Ruhaan is exactly what this house needs," he said, his voice level and warm. He hugged Shivansh and Ruhika

offering words that were technically perfect but lacked the resonance of true joy. Everyone noticed the hollowness—the way his eyes stayed shadowed even as his lips curled upward, the ghost of his own losses lingering like a chill in the air.

As soon as Aarav excused himself, claiming a late-night conference call, the atmosphere shifted.

Shivansh watched his brother's retreating back, his jaw tightening. He turned to his mother and Ruhika, his voice dropping into a low, resolute growl. "I've thought of something for him, and I'm going to need both of your help.

Seeking a lighter note after the heavy vow, Ruhika retreated to the study to place a video call to her parents.

As the screen flickered to life, showing her mother and father in their cozy living room, Ruhika felt a sudden, uncharacteristic wave of shyness wash over her. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, her face flushing a deep, happy crimson.

"Mumma... Papa... I have something to tell you," she began, her voice small and melodic. She held up the tiny sonogram photo, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

For a second, her parents were frozen, peering at the screen until the realization dawned.

Her mother let out a sharp gasp, her hands flying to her mouth, while her father let out a booming, joyous laugh that filled the speakers.

"Its time I find my running shoes again, for running behind another grandchild"

His father looked at Shivansh and added, "Take care of my daughter, or I'm coming there myself!" The screen was a chaotic blur of flying kisses, prayers, and her mother already listing out the traditional snacks she was going to send.

In that moment, surrounded by the virtual love of her parents and the physical presence of Shivansh leaning in to wave, the fear of the past finally felt like a closed book, replaced by a future that was loud, crowded, and perfectly complete.

The next morning, the sun streamed into the breakfast nook, casting long shadows over Ruhaan's half-eaten bowl of cereal.

Ruhika and Shivansh exchanged a secret, glowing look before Shivansh pulled his chair closer to his son, scooping the little one on his lap

"You know how you're the strongest, bravest Lion in this house? Well, Mumma and I have some very big news.

Ruhaan stopped mid-crunch, a milk mustache dusting his upper lip, like a gold star Papa?

Ruhika laughed, leaning forward to take Ruhaan's small hand in her, more than that Mera Baby, You're going to be a Big Brother. There's a tiny baby growing right here," she said, gently pressing his palm against her stomach.

Ruhaan's eyes went wide, his mouth forming a perfect 'O'. He stared at her flat stomach with intense suspicion, then leaned in close, practically pressing his ear against her navel. "I don't hear any words, Mumma. Is the baby sleeping? Or is it playing hide and seek?

"We don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet," Shivansh said, ruffling Ruhaan's curls.

"It's a surprise from the sky fairy. And it's going to take a long time to get here—many, many days. It'll come when the flowers start to bloom again, and when you're in Grade 2 "

Ruhaan frowned, calculating the wait. "That's a lot of days Papa, can we tell it to come jaldi jaldi to our home?

Can I give it my blue blanket? It's very soft.

" He suddenly looked up at Shivansh, his expression turning solemn.

"But Papa, if the baby is inside...will it eat all the chocolate I give to Mumma? "

Ruhaan sat up straight, puffing out his chest and giving a sharp, miniature salute. "Bodyparts? ! I can do that!

He turned back to Ruhika's stomach, patting it with a gentle, sticky hand. "Baby? Can you hear me? I'm Ruhaan. Your... he looked at Shivansh who told him "Brother"

The room was filled with a quiet, overwhelming warmth as Ruhaan began to babble about his dinosaur collection, while Shivansh pulled Ruhika into the crook of his arm, both listening to their beautiful reality of a four-and-a-half-year-old bodyguard already on duty.

The first trimester descended on the Kapoor villa like a quiet, humid fog, turning the usually vibrant Ruhika into a shadow of her former self.

The "Firebrand" CEO was suddenly sidelined by a relentless, bone-deep exhaustion and a morning sickness that ironically lasted well into the midnight hours.

Shivansh stepped into the breach with care, love and utmost patience, His life became a synchronized dance of corporate leadership and domestic duty. He was the first one up every morning, moving with silent, barefoot grace to keep the bedroom dark while Ruhika clung to sleep.

He took over the "School Mission"—a chaotic ritual that Ruhika usually handled.

He became an expert at matching Ruhaan's socks, finding the specific favourite lightning bolt water bottle, and navigating the boy's morning existential crises about why he couldn't wear his superhero cape over his uniform.

"Shh, Ruhaan," Shivansh would whisper, hoisting a giggling, wiggly Ruhaan onto his shoulders as they tiptoed past the bedroom. "Mumma is dreaming about you with the baby. We have to be silent ninjas."

The family operated like a well-oiled, invisible support system. Sunita was always there with a glass of ginger water or a specific, bland cracker the moment Ruhika so much as stirred.

If Ruhika was nauseous, the kitchen was scrubbed clean of any strong spices before she even stepped downstairs. When she fell into one of her frequent, sudden afternoon naps, the house fell into a reverent hush.

Even the staff moved on tiptoe, and the usual bustle of the house was replaced by a soft, protective stillness.

Shivansh's most heroic feats, however, happened during Ruhaan's active hours. After a long day at the office, he wouldn't sink into his armchair; instead, he would immediately drop to the floor to become a mountain for Ruhaan's toy trucks.

He played endless rounds of hide-and-seek, intentionally hiding in the most obvious places just to hear Ruhaan's triumphant laughter, all while keeping the boy away from the bedroom where Ruhika was resting.

One evening, he sat with Ruhaan on the balcony, the boy tucked into his side. "Papa, is Mumma not well?" Ruhaan asked, his voice small as he looked toward their bedroom.

"No, Champ,She's fine" Shivansh murmured, pulling the boy closer. "She's just doing the hardest job in the world,She is taking care of a very little human.

"Mumma loves you Meri Jaan, she just needs extra energy for the baby, until then you tell Papa when you need to play or anything you want to do, homework, school, Papa and Ruhaan are a team, Haina?"

The boy giggled shyly flashing him dimpled smile and hugged Shivansh, "Haan Papa"

The nausea wasn't just a morning visitor; it was a relentless, uninvited guest that stayed all day, turning the smell of Ruhika's favorite jasmine tea or the aroma of Shivansh's morning coffee into a battlefield.

There were moments when Ruhika felt utterly exhausted slumped against the cool tiles of the bathroom floor, her skin pale and clammy.

Shivansh was always there before she could even call for him. He developed a sixth sense for the sound of her jagged breathing.

One particularly rough afternoon, he sat on the bathroom floor right behind her, pulling her limp frame back to rest against his chest.

He didn't care about his clothes or the number of postponed meetings it took He just held her hair back with one hand and rubbed her back with a slow, grounding pressure with the other.

"It's okay, Ruhi. Just breathe through it," he murmured, his voice a low, steady anchor in her sea of dizziness. "The doctor said this means the baby is strong. It's a good sign, even if it feels like hell."

But as she rinsed her mouth and leaned her head against his shoulder, her eyes filled with tears—not from the sickness, but from the guilt.

"Ansh... I haven't played with Ruhaan in three days," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"He came to the door with his drawing earlier, and I couldn't even look up.

Shivansh's heart twisted. He turned her around, cupping her face in his hands. "Look at me. Ruhaan knows exactly how much you love him. I tell him every single hour.

He was the silent glue, ensuring that while Ruhika focused on the life growing inside her, the life they had already built remained full of laughter, security, and the unwavering knowledge that Mumma would be back to chase him soon.

By the time Ruhika hit the five-month mark, the "tummy monster" phase had evolved into a very visible, very round reality. The exhaustion had lifted, replaced by a radiant glow and a belly that Ruhaan had begun to call, "Baby Nest"

The most heartwarming shift, however, wasn't just Ruhika's growing silhouette—it was the way Ruhaan had begun to move through the house like a miniature, four-year-old carbon copy of Shivansh.

The "Bodyguard" had observed his father's protective instincts with the intensity of a scholar, and he was now applying them with hilarious, pint-sized precision.

One Saturday afternoon, Ruhika made the mistake of trying to reach for a book on a slightly high shelf.

Before Shivansh could even look up from his laptop, a tiny voice boomed from across the room.

"Mumma! Ruko! No Stech, you stech, baby stech

Ruhaan scrambled over, his little face set in a stern expression that was a mirror image of Shivansh's

He tugged at Ruhika's hand until she sat down

Shivansh walked over, fighting back a grin as he draped a soft throw over Ruhika's legs—another move Ruhaan immediately mimicked by smoothing out the corners of the blanket with tiny, serious hands.

"I get the spoon!" Ruhaan shouted, racing toward the kitchen. "The baby likes the blue spoon, Papa! Don't take the yellow one

The three of them spent their evenings in what had become their Huddle.

Ruhika would lie back, and Ruhaan would press his cheek against her stomach, waiting for the "thump-thumps." Now that the baby was active, it had become a game of tag.

"Mumma! He kicked me! He gave me a high-five!" Ruhaan squealed, his eyes wide with wonder.

He immediately began babbling into her belly.

"Baby? It's me, Ruhaan.

Shivansh sat behind Ruhika, his arms wrapped around her, his large hands resting just above where Ruhaan's were. It was a silent, powerful circle of protection.

"You know, Ru-man," Shivansh murmured, "when the baby comes, he's going to need someone to teach him how to roar. Do you think you're ready for that?"

Ruhaan looked up, his expression deeply thoughtful.

"I am ready, Papa. But... does the baby know how to brush his teeth? Or do I have to do that too?"

Aarav looked like a man performing a role, his smiles never quite reaching his eyes. Yet, there was a flicker of something new—a strange, protective shadow he cast over Nikita whenever the prying eyes of the guests became too heavy.

It was the beginning of a cold, silent understanding between two strangers, a stark contrast to the heat that radiated between Shivansh and Ruhika.

Throughout the sangeet, Shivansh was an immovable shadow by Ruhika's side, he spent the evening with one hand firmly and possessively resting on the small of her back, providing the steady gravity she needed. Every time she shifted her weight, he was there, leaning in with a whisper.

"Tired? We can head back to the suite. No one will miss us for an hour, he murmured, his breath ghosting over her ear, making her shiver despite the desert heat.

"I'm fine, Ansh, It's Aarav who's getting married, I wouldn't miss a second of it

Ruhika smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"The baby likes the drums. Look, he's doing a whole dance routine in here."

Shivansh's hand immediately slid to the front of her belly, his palm spreading over the curve. He felt the rhythmic, muffled thumps from within, and a rare, dimpled smile broke across his face.

He didn't pull his hand away, even when a group of business associates approached. He kept her tucked into his side, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over her stomach, a public declaration of his devotion that left the stoic persona far behind.

Later, during the pheras, the air grew chilly. Without a word, Shivansh unwrapped his own heavy, embroidered shawl and draped it over Ruhika's shoulders, pulling her back against his chest so she could lean on him.

He sat behind her on the velvet diwan, his arms forming a protective cage.

He spent the ceremony pressing soft, lingering kisses to her temple, his hands intertwined with hers over her lap.

His touch was constant—a brush of his knuckles against her cheek, a steadying grip on her elbow as they navigated the marble stairs, a possessive squeeze of her waist.

As Aarav and Nikita completed their final circle around the fire, Shivansh tightened his hold on Ruhika.

He looked at his brother—a man standing at the start of a very long, icy road—and then down at his wife, whose face was illuminated by the golden glow of the pyre.

"You're okay?" he whispered, his voice thick with a sudden, overwhelming protectiveness.

Ruhika turned her head, her lips grazing his jaw.

"I'm perfect. But I think our 'bodyguard' is falling asleep."

She pointed to Ruhaan, who had succumbed to the late hour and was curled up against Shivansh's leg, clutching a marigold garland.

Shivansh let out a low, contented laugh, pulling both his wife and his son closer.

The palace suite was bathed in the soft, silver glow of the Udaipur moon, the distant sound of wedding folk music drifting in like a faint memory. Inside, the air was cool and smelled of lavender and the lingering scent of Ruhika's perfume.

Shivansh stood at the foot of the bed, still in his heavy sherwani, the buttons undone at the throat.

He didn't want to turn on the lights; he didn't need to.

The sight before him was the only illumination his soul required.

Ruhika was lying on her side, her form softened by the gentle curve of her seven-month pregnancy.

Cuddled into the hollow of her body was Ruhaan, who had managed to kick off his tiny patent leather shoes but was still wearing his silk waistcoat

The "Little Lion" had one hand fisted in the fabric of Ruhika's loose T-Shirt while his head was tucked firmly under her chin.

They looked like two halves of a whole—their breathing perfectly synchronized in a slow, peaceful rhythm.

Shivansh moved closer, his footsteps silent on the thick Persian rug.

He sat on the edge of the mattress, the weight of his body causing a slight dip that made Ruhaan let out a tiny, contented sigh in his sleep, but neither of them woke.

He leaned forward, his heart feeling almost too large for his chest. He watched the way Ruhika's eyelashes cast long shadows against her glowing cheeks and how her hand rested protectively over her stomach, even in the depths of exhaustion.

Below her hand, he could see the faint, rhythmic pulse of his second child, safe and warm, the man who lived by logic and cold hard facts, felt a lump form in his throat. He reached out, his large, scarred hand trembling slightly as he brushed a stray, dark curl away from Ruhaan's forehead.

Then, he let his fingers ghost over Ruhika's temple, a touch so light it was barely there.

"My world," he whispered, the words barely a breath.

He didn't move for a long time. He just sat there in the dark, a silent sentry over his treasures.

He watched the rise and fall of their chests, the twitch of Ruhaan's nose as he dreamed of snow-ants, and the serene, fierce beauty of the woman who had dared to endure all this again to just give them more happiness to hold

Finally, he leaned down and pressed a lingering, reverent kiss to Ruhika's shoulder and another to the top of Ruhaan's head.

He didn't want to sleep; he just wanted to stay awake a little longer to make sure this wasn't a dream—that the Firebrand and the Lion were really his, and that their pride was about to grow by one more heartbeat.

_________

The final trimester arrived with a heavy, golden ripeness that turned the Kapoor villa into a sanctuary of anticipation.

Ruhika's body had transformed into a lush, rounded landscape of motherhood; her walk had slowed to a graceful, rhythmic sway, and her skin held a translucent, ethereal glow that Shivansh found utterly intoxicating.

The "Firebrand" CEO was now a woman of soft edges and sudden, unpredictable moods that kept the auditor on his toes.

One moment she would be weeping over a video of a stray puppy, and the next, she would be gripped by a fierce, midnight craving for spicy street-style gol-gappas or ice-cold watermelon.

Shivansh, met every whim with a devoted intensity. He would find himself at 2:00 AM, scouring the kitchen or calling personal contacts just to satisfy her sudden need for sour mangoes, later sitting on the edge of the bed and feeding her with a tenderness that spoke of a decade of unexpressed love.

Their romance had shifted into a deeper, more tactile gear; it was in the way he would spend hours massaging her swollen feet, the way he would press his face against her belly to murmur secrets to the baby, and the way he possessively tucked her into his side every night, his large frame acting as the perfect, steadying anchor to her restless, heavy body.

Ruhaan, now five, had fully embraced his role, He spent his afternoons shadowing Ruhika, his little face a picture of concentration as he inspected her snacks for healthy vitamins or lectured her on the dangers of walking too fast.

He would often bring his picture books and sit at her feet, reading to the baby stories of dinosaurs and space-travel to his unborn sibling. In the midst of this domestic warmth, Nikita was a quiet, elegant addition to the family gatherings.

As Aarav's new companion and "Chachi" to Ruhaan, she moved through the house with a polished, silent poise, her presence cool and observant.

While the depth of her union with Aarav remained a private, guarded mystery, she was a respectful participant in the family's joy, often sitting beside Sunita and watching the chaotic love of the senior Kapoors with a gaze that was beginning to thaw at the edges.

The pinnacle of the trimester was the baby shower—a "Garden of Dreams" theme designed by Ruhika's own firm but executed with a degree of perfection that only a doting husband could demand. The backyard was a sea of pastel silks and hanging floral clouds.

Ruhaan was arguably the star of the day, dressed in a miniature waistcoat that matched his father's, running between guests with a tray of baby-themed cookies

When it came time for the traditional rituals,Ruhika insisted that Ruhaan would sit with her, to her well being of both her children was utmost and she wanted blessings for both, she also admired how her little baby was becoming a doting elder sibling already

Ruhaan watched with wide-eyed wonder as the women of the family showered his mother with gifts and blessings, while Shivansh stood behind them both, his arms encircling his world, his gaze drifting from the glowing, laughing woman in his lap to his exuberant son, and then briefly to Aarav and Nikita standing by the marigold arch.

In that moment, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the fairy lights began to twinkle it was a celebration of a family that had learned to breathe together, anchored by the fierce, protective love of a man who had finally realized that his greatest investment was the life currently kicking beneath his palm.

As the final weeks of the pregnancy blurred into a haze of heavy, restless nights and the constant, rhythmic thud of the baby's movements, a quiet, sharp anxiety began to gnaw at Ruhika's heart.

One evening, as she sat in the nursery—now a sanctuary of soft linens and miniature socks—she watched Ruhaan from the doorway. He was carefully lining up his toy cars by the crib, making sure the "fastest one" was ready for the baby to see.

The sight, instead of comforting her, brought a sudden sting of tears to her eyes.

She found herself gripped by the terrifying thought of the divided heart, she wondered how she could possibly stretch her love to cover two lives without the seams showing, and the fear that her firstborn might feel his world shrinking hit her with the force of a tidal wave.

Later that night, when the house was draped in a peaceful hush, she called Ruhaan into their bed for their special cuddle time.

As he climbed up and tucked his small frame into the curve of her side, she pulled him close, her chin resting on his soft curls.

She felt him go still, his little hand clenching the fabric of her nightgown. She tilted his face up, her gaze fierce and watery. "But I want you to know a big, big secret.

Ruhaan's eyes doubled in size as he let out a joyful squeal. "Should I call Papa right now and tell him to bring the big chocolate tub? The one with the extra fudgy bits?"

"Okay, but first..." Ruhika's fingers suddenly danced over his ribs, "I have to check if the Lion is still ticklish!

" She began to tickle him gently, her laughter mingling with his high-pitched shrieks of delight.

For a few beautiful, chaotic minutes, the weight of the third trimester and the anxiety of the future vanished.

There was only the sound of their shared joy, Mumma tickling and her little Lion rolling around on the bed in a mess of blankets and giggles, proving that no matter how much their world grew, the space between them would always be the heart of the pride.

The final days of the pregnancy were wrapped in a golden, lingering intimacy, as if the universe had slowed down just to let Shivansh and Ruhika soak in the quiet before the storm of a newborn.

Late at night, after the house was silent and the "bodyguard" was fast asleep, the bedroom became their private sanctuary.

Shivansh was currently occupied with his favorite ritual—kneeling at the foot of the bed, his large, warm palms massaging Ruhika's swollen ankles with a rhythmic, grounding pressure.

He looked up at her, his eyes uncharacteristically soft, reflecting the moonlight. "Thank you, Ruhi," he murmured, his voice a low vibration in the quiet room.

"For all of this. Our Ruhaan, this baby and for carrying the weight of our world so beautifully. I know it isn't easy."

Ruhika felt that familiar flutter in her chest, her hand reaching out to stroke his jaw. "Don't get too sentimental on me, Ansh, I had personal interests at mind, with a husband like you I don't mind making babies

Shivansh's hand froze mid-massage on her ankle, his eyebrows shooting up in mock surprise. A slow, dangerous smirk spread across his face—the look that usually meant he was about to win a negotiation, or something much more intimate. "Oh, is that so? So my wife is admitting she's a fan?"

He moved up the bed with a predatory, slow-motion grace, caging her in with his arms. "I thought you were the one always complaining that I'm too stubborn, too rigid.

.. too 'Auditor-like'."

"The Auditor has his moments," Ruhika teased, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down until their noses brushed.

"And let's be honest, Ansh, with those shoulders and that scowl?

I had to ensure the next generation had a fighting chance at good genetics.

It was a purely strategic investment."

Shivansh let out a low, vibrating chuckle against her throat, his thumb tracing the sensitive skin of her inner wrist

But I remember it differently.

I went to see a 'nice, intelligent and innocent girl around eight years ago, and instead, I found a Firebrand who asked me What I wanted in a wife.

..Tumne fassa lia mujhe, even before the dinner was served"

Ruhika giggled, the sound light and musical in the quiet room. "I trapped you? You were the one who suggested a second meeting, Mr..and then took me for a long drive And now look at what's become of that one little meeting."

She pointed down at her beautifully heavy, rounded figure, her expression softening into a mix of awe and mock-exasperation.

"I agreed to one lunch and a drive, and eight years later, I'm growing a whole clan. This is what you've done to me, Mr. Kapoor."

His gaze darkened with a searing, familiar heat as he looked back at her. "Eight years... it feels like a lifetime and a heartbeat all at once. I look at you, and I still see the girl who told me my tie was crooked just to annoy me.

But as his hand strayed a little higher, his touch turning possessive and lingering, she let out a scandalized gasp and swatted his arm.

"Shivansh! Kuch toh sharam karo!