BONUS 7
If anyone had told me that the most powerful force in the world wasn't love, or war, or Rudra Singhania's glares but a 6-pound baby with chubby cheeks and a scream that could rival a fire alarm I wouldn't have believed them.
Until tonight.
I blinked at the ceiling for what felt like the 873rd time. The glow-in-the-dark stars Veer had stuck on the nursery wall twinkled with silent mockery as Saisha screamed like we had betrayed her soul.
"Maya," Rudra mumbled, voice thick with sleep, "it's your turn..."
I sat up with a dramatic groan. "It was my turn last time."
"We had five last times," he said, rolling over and tugging the blanket higher. "She's plotting against us."
"You're her father!" I whisper-shouted, dragging myself out of bed. "Fight for your rights."
But before I could reach the crib, Rudra stumbled up behind me with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. "Fine, I'm coming. But if I die, put 'slayed by Saisha Singhania' on my gravestone."
I bit back a laugh as we stood like zombies over the wailing baby.
Rudra picked her up, gently bouncing. "Sweetheart, it's 3 AM. Normal people sleep at this hour."
Saisha wailed louder in response.
"She's not normal," I muttered, pacing with a warm bottle. "She's you in miniature form."
Rudra's eyes narrowed. "You mean brilliant?"
"I mean dramatic."
After an hour of bouncing, singing lullabies off-tune, and making up three weird songs involving cows and stars, she finally fell asleep. Rudra placed her back in the crib with the precision of a bomb technician.
We tiptoed out.
Sat on the bed.
Looked at each other.
Collapsed sideways.
"Parenting is like being kidnapped," Rudra whispered into his pillow. "Except you love your kidnapper."
I laughed quietly, curling into his side. "We're so doomed."
"We're so in love," he replied sleepily, pulling me closer.
And just as we began to drift off, a tiny cry pierced the air again.
Both our eyes flew open.
"...Rock-paper-scissors?" Rudra asked, already defeated.
I groaned. "You're going. I gave birth. Remember that?"
He sighed like a tragic poet, stood up, and mumbled, "This is what I get for flirting with my student..."
"Wife!" I called after him.
But I couldn't stop the smile that formed as I heard him softly singing a terrible lullaby.
Love was chaotic, sleepless, and exhausting.
And absolutely perfect.
It was early.
Too early.
Even the sun hadn't clocked in for work yet, but Saisha Singhania had full of baby energy and tiny kicks that could rival a professional wrestler.
And Maya?
Knocked out cold.
One hand flung over her eyes, the other barely holding onto the edge of the blanket, mouth slightly open. I swear she could sleep through an earthquake these days.
I looked down at our daughter, who was now sitting on my chest with her diaper slightly tilted and a victorious grin like she'd just conquered Everest.
"Shhh, princess," I whispered, cradling her in my arms as I carefully got out of bed, "let your mommy sleep or she'll eat both of us alive."
She giggled. Giggle. As if she knew.
I tiptoed out of the bedroom like a thief, one slipper on, one missing, carrying the tiniest tyrant in my arms.
In the living room...
I laid a soft mat on the floor and surrounded it with pillows. Saisha sat in the center like a royal queen and babbled something that sounded like, "Da-da-da!"
My chest swelled. "Yes, yes, da-da is here at your service, Your Highness."
She clapped her chubby hands, demanding entertainment. I grabbed her stuffed giraffe and danced it like it was performing in a Broadway show.
She was not impressed.
Next, I tried peekaboo.
Still unimpressed.
Then I made weird faces, sang an off-tune version of "Twinkle Twinkle," and finally juggled three socks.
She blinked. Then burst into laughter.
I smirked. "Finally, some respect for your talented father."
She threw a sock at my face.
"Okay, you inherited your mother's sass."
We spent the next hour crawling around the mat (yes, I crawled too), building soft block towers only for her to destroy them with maniacal joy, and playing the most intense game of "grab daddy's nose" in history.
I didn't even notice the time until I heard soft footsteps behind me.
Turning around, I saw Maya standing there in her satin robe, sleepy eyes blinking at us, hair a beautiful mess.
Her lips curled into a soft smile. "What are you two doing?"
"Bonding," I said proudly, holding up Saisha like she was Simba from The Lion King.
Saisha flailed her arms excitedly. "Ma-Ma!"
Maya walked over and knelt beside us, kissing both our cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered to me.
"For what?"
"For letting me sleep. And for...this."
I shrugged, gently resting Saisha against her shoulder. "She's my favorite girl. After you, obviously."
She arched a brow. "Obviously?"
"Obviously."
Maya leaned forward and kissed me again. "You're a good dad, Mr. Khadoos."
"And you're an amazing mom, Mrs. Khadoos," I murmured, pulling both my girls into my arms.
In that quiet morning, with cartoons playing in the background, stuffed animals scattered around, and baby giggles echoing in the roomI realized...
This was my definition of peace.
This was home.
*Target vote 70