4. Heartbeat of Love #2
Shivika's eyes widened, more tears spilling as she looked at him. His deep blue eyes shimmered with something she couldn't name: pain, love, longing, and a tenderness so overwhelming it threatened to undo her.
Rakshit didn't know what to feel. He wasn't the father, life had never given him a family, never let him belong.
Yet in this moment, hearing that fragile heartbeat, it felt like a piece of him was tied to it.
For Shivika, the weight of his whispered words sank into her heart.
Marriage or not, reality or illusion, in that hospital room… she didn't feel alone. And for Rakshit- orphaned, empty, hardened by silence this heartbeat wasn't just hers.
Somehow, against all logic, it had become theirs.
The drive back home was wrapped in silence. Neither of them spoke, yet both of their hearts were crowded with emotions they couldn't put into words.
Shivika leaned her head slightly against the glass, watching the world blur past, her thoughts loud inside her.
If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that she had made the right decision by giving him the rights of a father.
The real father of her child hadn't cared enough to stay, but Rakshit… this man was doing far more than she ever imagined.
In the doctor's cabin, she had seen him, how carefully he had asked every single thing.
"What foods should she avoid?"
"What habits should she follow?"
"Is there a diet chart she needs?"
"Can she continue dancing?"
Question after question. Each one practical, detailed, protective. Even the doctor, who had only known him by reputation, had been taken aback.
The silence in the car was finally broken by Shivika's voice, soft but heavy.
For him, there was no debate, no hesitation. The moment he had heard that fragile heartbeat, he had accepted it. That sound still rang in his ears, etched into his soul.
This day would remain with him forever.
Shivika blinked back tears. "I don't know whom to love."
Her heart clenched.
She had felt the ache of losing family, but this man… this man had lived his whole life carrying that emptiness.
She closed her eyes, unable to bear the weight of it.
Her next words came softly, almost like a prayer.
The car screeched as Rakshit hit the brakes, stopping abruptly in the middle of the road.
Shivika jerked forward, but before she could hit the dashboard, his arm shot out protectively, holding her back.
For a moment, the world outside didn't exist. He turned to her, his hand still steadying her, his eyes raw with emotions he never showed.
Pain. Hope. Fear. Longing.
All tangled together.
Rakshit's hand moved up to her shoulders, steady yet trembling, making Shivika look straight into his eyes.
His voice was low but firm, layered with emotions he had never confessed before.
This wasn't what he had ever thought or planned. He never dreamed of being anyone's husband, never imagined himself as a father.
But the change in events, the sound of that tiny heartbeat, and Shivika's trembling words - they shifted something deep inside him.
Tears slipped from Shivika's eyes at his confession. Rakshit instinctively lifted his hand to wipe them, but halfway through, he froze, his fingers curling back, as though afraid of overstepping.
Slowly, he let go of her shoulders, creating a space between them that hurt more than it comforted.
Her voice came out trembling, breaking like fragile glass with every word.
Rakshit's heart clenched at her pain. He couldn't bear to see her body trembling under the weight of her own wounds. He leaned closer, his voice gentle yet desperate.
His eyes glistened, his control finally breaking.
Shivika's chest tightened. Without realizing, her hand moved to touch his, grounding him.
Her words, though shaky, carried a promise.
(Where would I go, Rakshit? I didn't have a home… but now, you are my home, and my family too.)
Her words sank into him like sunlight breaking through years of darkness.
For the first time, Rakshit didn't try to hide, he let his eyes close, a tear escaping freely, and held her hand as though she was the only truth he had ever known.
Rakshit started driving with a heavy heart, but his hand never left hers. He didn't know if he was giving support or taking it, yet Shivika's fingers in his were the only steady thing.
Shivika too needed it, afraid of every decision life had forced on her.
They reached home, once just four walls for Rakshit, now a place that felt like home because of two lives that had entered it - Shivika and that little heartbeat.
For the first time, he had someone to call his own.
He opened the door, and Shivika walked in, sinking onto the sofa with a tired sigh.
Rakshit quietly brought her a glass of water, which she accepted with a faint smile, her hand pressing her aching back.
Rashmi aunty entered, from flat next door.
"All is well? What did the doctor say?" she asked softly, sitting beside Shivika.
Rakshit replied in his usual calm tone,
"Doctor said she should stay in a bright and happy environment… it's good for the baby's growth."
Rashmi aunty sighed, glancing around. Then in a low whisper, she said, "But how will she? This house has nothing but black and grey."
Shivika, with her eyes half-closed, bit her lip to stop the giggle, but a small sound escaped. Rakshit's gaze shifted to her, then slowly around the room.
For the first time, he noticed it- the dull walls, the dark furniture, lifeless shades everywhere.
His jaw tightened.
He had never cared for colours before, but now… it mattered. He silently promised himself he would change it all soon.
Breaking the moment, Rashmi aunty smiled and said, "And yes, I brought pickle of every flavour, just as you said."
Shivika’s eyes flew open, and she jerked upright.
"Pickle? Every flavour?" she asked, stunned.
Rakshit gave a small hum in response, as if it was nothing.
But Shivika's mouth hung open in disbelief. Just this morning, Rashmi aunty had said there wasn't a single jar in the house.
And now… only for her, every flavour was here.
Her chest warmed.
Who does this much? Her heart whispered the answer before her mind could deny it - he does.
Shivika missed her father every day, but today the ache was stronger. Watching Rakshit, she was reminded of how her father used to quietly fill the fridge with her favorite mangoes, how whatever she wished for was always there before her.
That same care, that same silent love, she now saw in this man.
Her eyes softened as she looked at him. Life had taken so much from her, yet somehow it had given her this- someone who, without saying a word, was becoming her shelter.
She leaned back against the sofa, a small smile tugging at her lips.
For the first time in a long while, the thought crossed her heart - maybe she wasn't as alone as she believed.