10. Her Forehead Kiss
The corner of their living room felt different today-warm, peaceful, as if something sacred had quietly settled there.
Shivika had arranged everything with the care of someone building a piece of her heart.
A small wooden mandir, a brass diya, tiny idols, fresh flowers she'd picked herself because she wanted everything to feel pure.
She fixed the last flower, breath steady, eyes soft. Then she lit the diya. A gentle flame rose, trembling but steady.
Rakshit stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, watching her.
He didn't know the rules of prayer.
He never needed them.
For years he believed no God listened to him, so he stopped calling out to one.
But today, he was watching someone who believed so simply... and somehow, that felt enough.
When Shivika finished lighting the diya, she brought her hands together and bowed her head. Her expression was peaceful-almost fragile in its sincerity.
Then she lifted her gaze and called his name softly.
"Rakshit."
It wasn't command or hesitation-just an invitation. Gentle.
She didn't say pray. She didn't push. She only joined her hands again and waited for him to understand.
He stepped closer.
Without a word, he mirrored her gesture, palms coming together slowly, as if he was still learning how to hold something sacred.
Shivika closed her eyes again.
Rakshit didn't.
He tried but his gaze drifted to her.
The way the flame from the diya brushed gold across her face. The slight tremble in her eyelashes as she prayed for something-maybe peace, maybe a future, maybe safety for a life she had just stepped into with him.
Her lips moved in silent wishes.
He didn't know what she was asking for... but he found himself hoping every single one came true.
He should look at the mandir, at the idols, at the flame.
But his eyes stayed on her.
There was something humbling in watching someone believe so easily.
As if faith wasn't a temple or a ritual.
It was her.
It was the way she stood with quiet devotion, bringing light into a place that once only knew silence.
And without realizing, a thought settled in him -
If blessings existed... maybe she was the first one he ever received.
Shivika slowly opened her eyes and turned her head. She found him watching her instead of praying.
For a moment, neither moved. Her breath stilled. His fingers flexed faintly, nervous without reason.
He looked away then, clearing his throat softly, breaking eye contact like it scared him to hold something that real.
Shivika didn't call it out.
She simply smiled - gentle, small, grateful as if his silent presence beside her meant more than perfect prayers ever could.
Rakshit didn't reply with words. He didn't know how to say he didn't stand here for God - he stood here because she asked.
Because she believed.
And maybe... he was learning to believe too.
So instead of speaking, he reached forward and straightened the diya stand, quietly shielding the flame from the light breeze coming in through the window.
A silent promise in a tiny gesture -
I will protect what matters.
Shivika noticed. Her heart softened.
The flame flickered gently between them.
Later, after they finished dinner, Rakshit quietly filled water bottle for her so she wouldn't have to come to the kitchen at night.
A small gesture, but it held more care than any big words.
"Shivika, you have your doctor's appointment tomorrow," he reminded gently.
"I know, Rakshit. I'll get ready in the morning," she replied softly.
He only hummed in response, the way he usually did when his feelings ran deeper than his words.
Rakshit handed her the bottle, and they walked toward their rooms.
Before stepping inside, Shivika paused and turned to him.
"Rakshit... aren't you coming with me tomorrow?" she asked, a little confused by how casually he had reminded her earlier.
His brows lifted slightly.
"Of course I'm coming, Shivika. Why the doubt?"
Then, quieter... almost unsure,
"You... don't want me to?"
The hesitation in his voice held a truth - he wasn't ready to hear a 'no.'
He wanted to be there.
He wanted to hear their baby's heartbeat again - even if he listened to the recording every night, it never felt the same as being there.
"N-no, not at all," she said quickly.
"I asked because I want you there with me."
Something in his chest eased - a soft relief, gentle but strong.
"Don't worry, Shivika," he said, voice firm yet tender.
Her heart warmed at his words - steady, sincere, quietly protective.
"Good night."
"Good night."
They both slipped into their rooms.
Two doors closed... but tonight, the distance between them felt a little smaller.
Almost like they were learning how to hold each other, even from separate spaces.
In the morning, Shivika stepped out of her room wearing a simple suit. Nothing fancy - yet she looked calm, soft, like the morning itself.
Rakshit, who had been sitting on the sofa scrolling through his phone, immediately stood up.
"Good morning," she greeted quietly.
"Good morning," he replied, eyes lingering on her for a second longer than usual.
"Shall we go?"
Shivika nodded, then paused.
"Hmm... but did you have your breakfast?"
Rakshit shook his head casually.
"I'll eat once we come back, after your check-up."
Shivika frowned.
"You don't have to stay hungry till then. We'll go after you eat."
She sat down, expecting him to listen.
Instead, Rakshit picked up the car keys and shook his head.
"But Rakshit, it's not good-" she tried to protest gently.
"No discussion, Shivika," he interrupted softly but firmly.
"I said I can't eat if you're hungry. Let's go."
He started walking toward the door.
Shivika stood frozen for a moment.
All her life she had seen her father wait for her mother while hungry - but no one had ever done that for her.
Not even the man who once claimed to love her.
Something warm moved in her chest, unfamiliar but comforting.
She blinked quickly, steadying herself.
"Shivika," Rakshit called from the door.
"Aai!" she answered and hurried to wear her flats before walking out with him.
They were halfway to the clinic when she suddenly remembered - her file was still at home.
Her heartbeat picked up.
Shivika glanced at Rakshit, trying to find the courage to tell him they had already come halfway.
A memory flashed — her mother forgetting something important once, her father's anger echoing through the car.
Anyone would get angry in this situation… right?
But today, she wasn't ready to face anger.
Not when her pregnancy hormones made everything heavier.
She tried to blink away the fear but tears escaped anyway.
Rakshit looked at her for a second, confused… then froze.
She was crying.
His grip on the steering tightened.
He instantly pulled the car to the side, stopping it sharply.
Seatbelt off. Body turned toward her within seconds.
"Shivika, what happened?" he asked, voice tight with worry as he held her trembling hands, rubbing them gently.
She hiccuped, unable to control it.
"Shivika… is it hurting somewhere? We're almost at the hospital. Please don't cry," Rakshit pleaded, panic slipping into his tone.
She was perfectly fine minutes ago — what went wrong?
"Rak… Rakshit… vo… vo…" she tried, but a sob broke her sentence.
Rakshit immediately opened the water bottle and held it near her lips.
"Drink water, please," he whispered and wiped her tears with his thumb.
After a few sips and a shaky breath, Shivika finally spoke, voice tiny and ashamed.
"I… I forgot my file… at home."
Rakshit blinked. Once. Twice.
Like he needed to confirm he heard right.
Shivika looked at him, waiting for anger, disappointment — something.
But his expression was just… stunned.
"One minute," he muttered.
He inhaled deeply. Exhaled. And then—
"So you were crying because you forgot the file at home?"
Shivika nodded, staring at her lap.
Rakshit felt like knocking some sense into his own head.
His heart had been racing seeing her cry like something inside him was falling apart.
Now it slowly began to settle.
"Shivika," he called softly.
She looked up.
He wasn't angry. He wasn't even annoyed.
He just looked… relieved.
"Are you… not angry?" she asked carefully.
Rakshit raised a brow.
"And why exactly should I be angry?"
"Because we already came near the hospital… and now we have to go back," she whispered, looking down again.
And suddenly, everything made sense to him — the fear, the tears, her shaking hands.
He lifted her chin gently, making her meet his gaze.
"Shivika… it’s just a file," he said quietly.
Her lips parted slightly, breath catching.
He cupped her cheek with his hand.
She swallowed hard, tears gathering again — but this time, they weren't from fear.
Rakshit continued softly, "And listen… if I ever raise my voice at you, you have hands, slap me. Don't ever stay quiet if I'm wrong."
Shivika shook her head instantly.
He sat back, fastened his seatbelt, and started the car again.
Shivika stayed silent, taking in every word he had said.
How could a man say something like that?
How could he place her above his ego so easily?
Rakshit glanced at her once as he turned the car around.
And then he said the line that made her heart stop for a moment—
She stared at him, stunned… breathless.
Who was this man?
How could he be this gentle… this ego-less… this steady?
Her chest warmed painfully.
Without thinking, she leaned her head onto his shoulder and closed her eyes.
Rakshit looked down for a second.
A small smile — shy, soft, completely unplanned, touched his lips.
He didn’t say anything.
He didn’t have to.
As the car stopped in the society building, Rakshit unbuckled his seatbelt and turned toward her.
She instantly moved back a little.
"You sit here. I’ll go up and get the file," he said softly.
He was about to step out when Shivika held his wrist.
He froze.
She leaned closer, and his heartbeat jumped. He blinked, unsure what she was doing.
She cupped his face gently in both her hands. His eyes widened.
Before he could even breathe, she leaned in and pressed a light kiss on his forehead.
Then she pulled back, her palms sliding down to his cheeks, giving them a soft pull.
"You are so cute," she said with a small giggle.
Rakshit sat there completely still, eyes wide, mind blank.
She chuckled at his reaction. He looked away, rubbed the back of his neck, and somehow found his voice.
"I… I'll bring the file," he managed, stuttering, and stepped out quickly, closing the car door behind him.
Shivika laughed when she saw him stumble a little on his way to the elevator, flustered and unable to walk straight.
She shook her head, a warm feeling spreading in her chest.
Inside the elevator, as the doors slid shut, Rakshit leaned back and closed his eyes.
His hand went straight to his heart.
"What the hell just happened?" he whispered, breath unsteady.
Shivika was still smiling to herself, replaying the moment again and again. She felt… light.
Like someone had opened a window inside her chest.
Upstairs, the elevator stopped with a soft ding.
Rakshit stepped out quickly, still a little breathless. His ears were warm, his heartbeat loud enough that he swore the walls could hear it.
He walked to the door, opened it, and entered their quiet home.
But the moment he closed the door behind him, he pressed his back to it and hid his face in his palms.
"Cute? She called me cute?" he whispered, voice cracking with disbelief.
He dropped his hands, took a deep breath, and looked around, trying to collect himself like nothing happened.
But the smile that pulled at his lips betrayed him completely. Even he couldn't fight it.
He walked to her room and picked up the medical file from the table.
Just as he was about to leave, he paused.
His eyes softened.
Her small handwriting on the file's corner… her perfume still lingering in the air… the faint memory of her warm hands on his cheeks…
He swallowed hard.
But his heart didn't listen. It kept beating fast, almost excited.
File in hand, he walked back to the elevator.
Downstairs, Shivika looked at the building entrance, waiting for him.
When she finally saw him coming, her smile grew naturally, effortlessly.
Rakshit, on the other hand, slowed down the moment their eyes met. That tiny smile on her lips stole the air from his lungs again.
He opened the door and slipped into the driver's seat quietly. Shivika was looking out of the window, but the tiny smile on her lips was impossible to hide.
Rakshit started the car, but for the first few seconds… he didn't drive. He just sat there, staring at the steering wheel as if it suddenly became complicated.
Shivika's brows narrowed.
"Rakshit?" she whispered softly, "Are you okay?"
He exhaled slowly.
"I'm fine… I think."
His voice betrayed him, coming out lower, breathier.
She bit her cheek hiding her smile, "Why are you sitting like that?"
Rakshit finally turned to her, his eyes softer than she had ever seen.
Shivika's heart skipped.
He looked ahead again, gripping the wheel, trying to act normal but failing beautifully.
Shivika looked at him, her chest tightening at the honesty in his voice.
"Rakshit…" she whispered, but he shook his head gently.
His fingers tapped the wheel nervously.
Shivika looked away for a second, feeling her cheeks warm.
He swallowed, eyes lingering on her for just a second longer than he meant to.
"Let’s… go?" he said, voice still shaken.
"Hm," she nodded, hiding her smile.
The car moved, a comfortable silence settling between them, not empty, but full of things they both felt and neither dared to name.
Midway, Rakshit spoke again, stealing a glance at her.
Shivika giggled softly, "Maybe I'll do it again… without warning."
Rakshit missed a beat on the accelerator.
"Shivika…" he breathed.
She turned her face to the window, smiling like a shy sunrise.
And Rakshit drove the rest of the way with a heart that refused to calm down — her kiss replaying, her laughter echoing, her trust settling somewhere deep inside him.
A beginning neither of them fully understood… but both already felt.