21. I Love MY IKA #3
He remembered standing beside her hospital bed, watching her breathe, afraid that if he blinked, she might disappear.
The thought made his chest tighten.
He had never believed in love at first sight. It sounded too fictional, too unrealistic. But maybe love wasn't always fireworks and poetry. Maybe sometimes it was just a silent pull, a quiet connection that started before the mind could catch up.
And then there was the baby.
Rakshit's lips curved into a faint smile as that thought settled in his mind.
He looked toward the closed door of their room again, imagining the quiet rhythm of her breathing, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the small life growing inside her.
He still remembered the first time he found out.
He remembered the way her hands had trembled, the way her eyes had looked away, as if she was scared of being judged, pitied, or abandoned.
She was carrying more than just a child back then, he thought.
She was carrying fear.
He had never imagined he would be a part of such a journey. Pregnancy was something distant for him, something that belonged to other people's lives, other people's stories. He had never pictured himself watching someone slowly change, day by day, as a new life grew inside her.
But he had seen it.
He had seen how her body changed, how her mood changed, how her energy fluctuated. Some days she was full of life, teasing him, laughing loudly, talking endlessly. And some days she was quiet, tired, lost in her own thoughts, her hand subconsciously resting on her stomach.
He noticed everything.
He noticed how she walked slower now, how she paused more often, how her hands instinctively searched for support when she stood up. He noticed how she got tired faster, how her appetite changed, how her sleep became lighter.
He had always believed that responsibilities would weigh him down, that attachments would make him weak.
But with her, it felt different.
She makes responsibility feel like purpose.
He thought about the baby again. He had never imagined himself in this role--
someone who would worry about vitamins, doctor appointments, proper rest, stress levels. Someone who would search for the softest pillows, the healthiest food, the safest environment.
I'm planning a life for someone who isn't even here yet, he realised with a soft chuckle.
He remembered the first time he felt the baby move.
The faint movement had startled him.
There is really someone there.
A tiny heartbeat, a tiny existence, growing silently. And somehow, it felt connected to him too.
He started doing things without thinking, offering his hand, adjusting pillows, reminding her to rest, feeding her food, massaging her feet.
When did I become this attentive?
He smiled to himself.
She did this.
She came with unpredictability. With emotions. With a baby. With stories and fears and stubbornness and softness.
And instead of pushing her away, he made space.
I rearranged my life without even realising it.
He leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
He never thought he would want someone waiting for him at home. Someone whose presence changed the air in the room. Someone whose silence bothered him, whose laughter made him lighter.
He never thought he would want to come home early just to check if she had eaten properly.
He never thought he would want to sit beside her and listen to her talk about random things, just to hear her voice.
He never thought he would be scared to lose someone this much.
He was scared of hurting her.
Scared of pushing her too fast.
Scared of losing what they had built so quietly.
She deserves time.
He knew she was still figuring out her feelings. He knew she had been hurt before. He knew love was not easy for her.
I will not be another mistake in her life.
He thought about how she had explained love, how she had spoken about fear, comfort, choice, and peace.
She thinks she is just understanding love now.
But he realised something she hadn't yet.
She was already living a version of it.
Maybe not romantically, not consciously. But in the way she trusted him. In the way she stayed. In the way she let him be part of her and the baby's life.
She doesn't have to name it yet.
He didn't need a confession. He didn't need words.
He just needed time.
He closed his eyes, listening to the quiet night.
He opened his eyes again, staring at the moonlight.
He had never believed in fate, in destiny, in things happening for a reason.
But meeting her felt... too significant to be random.
Maybe I was meant to meet her when she needed someone who wouldn't leave.
He took a deep breath.
He didn't know what the future held. He didn't know if she would ever love him the way he loves her. He didn't know if their story would be easy or complicated.
But he knew one thing.
He was not the same man anymore.
She changed him.
The baby changed him.
He was softer.
More patient.
More human.
He smiled faintly to himself.
Maybe this is what love does.
It doesn't just change your heart.
It changes your whole world.