Vikram's POV
Everyone is so happy because of the baby… and so am I.
I can't even put into words how emotional and overjoyed I am. Tara has given me the biggest happiness of my life — something I've always secretly wished for. I've always loved babies, and yes, I've always dreamed of having a baby girl. But honestly, the gender doesn't matter to me; what matters is that our little one is healthy and safe.
When I was a child, I always wanted a younger sister. I had even chosen a name for her — Ruhi. But when my mother passed away, she was pregnant, and that day I lost two people. That pain has stayed with me. Maybe that's why this baby feels like such a healing gift.
I don't want to carry grudges anymore. I want to move forward.
After whats dadi and Prithvi did with me . I wasn't ready to take risks at home, so I ordered more boxes of sweets myself plus Prithvi sweets boxs and dadi sweets boxs disturbing the whole office in the process. At the time, I thought it was a smart move. That was until idiot manager walked into my cabin.
"Sir, congratulations!" he said, grinning "I'm so happy for you — you're soon going to be a father! And that too, only four months after marriage!"
I clenched my jaw. "If you don't walk out of my cabin in the next one minute, you will be responsible for what happens next."
"But sir, I was only praising you…" he stuttered.
"I don't need your praise. Just leave."
He left, and I sat back in my chair, wondering bitterly, Did he just make fun of me?
---
Days began to pass like this. Dadi's feet barely touch the ground these days — she's glowing with excitement. Dadaji is happy too, but more composed. He keeps reminding everyone to stay calm. But with dadi, her excitement has no limits.
Tara is happy as well, but as her pregnancy symptoms are getting stronger, she has started behaving differently — often angry, sometimes irritated. I understand it's not easy for her, and I try my best to keep her comfortable. After all, we're both becoming parents — it's not just her journey, it's ours.
Dadi insisted on shifting our room to the ground floor, closer to everyone, so Tara doesn't have to climb stairs.
One thing I've realized: pregnancy brings immense joy in the beginning, but soon you realize it comes with countless challenges. And the biggest one of all? Mood swings. Daily mood swings.
Tara is now two and a half months pregnant, and since morning she's been struggling with nausea and vomiting — something the doctor says is common, and medicines can't help. I understand her pain, but right now, she sees me as the ultimate villain.
---
"Tara, don't get angry. It's not good for you or the baby," I said softly, standing a safe distance away.
A pillow came flying at my face.
"This is all your fault, Mr. Suryavanshi!" she yelled, picking up another pillow. "Because of you, I can't eat, I can't sleep. Maybe I should just shift to the bathroom since I have to keep running there anyway!"
I tried to stay calm. "Okay, Tara. I accept. Next time, I'll be more careful. Don't worry."
Her eyes narrowed. "Next time? What do you mean by next time, Mr. Suryavanshi? If you dare touch me again, you'll find yourself lying here — dead!"
Yes, you heard it right. My wife has officially started threatening me. And here I am, helpless, wondering — since when did loving your wife become a crime?
"Don't do this drama, Mr. Suryavanshi. You're not as innocent as you pretend. This… all this is the overdose of your love. And now you're sitting here doing melodrama?"
"What do you want me to do then? Tell me and I'll do it."
"Get out of my sight right now."
I sighed and left for the dining room. What else could I do?
---
Later, I gathered the courage to return. To my relief, Tara had finally fallen asleep. Nothing could be better. I got ready for office quietly, then went near her, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead, and bent down to kiss her belly too. It had become a daily ritual — kissing her and the baby before I left.
Just as I pulled back, Tara's eyes fluttered open.
I raised my hands defensively. "Don't hit me, okay? Bye."
And I slipped out of the room before another pillow could fly my way.
That evening, when I came home, Tara seemed normal again. She spoke to me sweetly, and even asked for a special dinner. I arranged a healthy dish prepared by a chef, balancing her cravings with her safety. She loved it.
"Vikram, you are the best husband in the world. I'm so lucky," she said.
I smirked inwardly. Funny. Just this morning I was about to be murdered by the same woman.
This is my life now: sometimes I'm the best husband, sometimes the worst. It depends entirely on Tara's mood which crown she puts on my head.
"Thank you," I said softly. "Now sleep. Want me to give you a head massage or leg massage tonight?"
"Both. You're good at both," she replied with a smile.
These days, I'm a full-time worker. Days I deal with business, nights I deal with my wife.
---
By the time Tara reached her fifth month, the nausea and vomiting stopped. Her temper calmed down too. Today we had a doctor's appointment — an ultrasound.
It's the best feeling in the world, watching your baby grow on that little screen. Both Tara and I felt the same — emotional, excited, overwhelmed.
Back at home, a whole different drama was unfolding: a "gender war." On one side was Suhani, rooting for a baby girl, and on the other, Prithvi and dadi, who wanted a boy. The nursery walls have already been painted twice — once pink, once blue — and finally ended up half pink, half blue.
No one even bothered to ask my opinion. Apparently, my vote doesn't count. And I still don't understand — if only dadi and Prithvi wanted a boy, how did the votes end up tied?
Meanwhile, Tara has developed an unusual habit — she's always hungry. She eats in huge amounts, sometimes sneaking into the kitchen at night. I often catch her munching something, keeping an eye to ensure she doesn't overdo it.
One morning, I found her crying uncontrollably.
"What's wrong?" I rushed to her.
"I'm getting fat… ugly… You won't love me anymore," she sobbed.
I sighed, holding her gently. "Tara, weight doesn't matter. This is pregnancy. You're glowing, you're cuter than ever. I'll love you no matter what."
She wiped her tears slowly, calming down.
Then, with a serious tone, she asked, "Mr. Suryavanshi, is my foundation work going okay? I can't be there physically."
"Yes, Tara. Trust me," I reassured her.
"Mrs. Sethi told me your mother was at the peak of her career when she got pregnant. She chose you instead of her career. She gave up everything — her identity, her dreams — for you. Don't you think women's contributions are always undervalued? Men never give up their careers, but women… they do it every single day. Just like your mom did."
Her words silenced me. She was right. If my mom hadn't sacrificed her career, she could have been a world-famous businesswoman.
I took Tara's hands in mine. "This won't happen to you. This baby is not just yours — it's mine too. Responsibility is ours equally. When you feel healthy again, you'll run your foundation as you always dreamed. I'll never stop you, never tie you down to the house. That's my promise."
Her eyes welled up again. "Vikram… now you're making me cry again."
"Please, Tara, not again. My strength is running out wiping your tears every day," I said half-teasing, half-serious.
But the truth is, despite all these struggles, I'm enjoying this journey. I'm happy. I feel alive.
At home, the excitement is endless — especially dadi, who's already choosing names and schools. I just smile and listen.
Now Tara's seventh month has started, and a new war has broken out in the house. The baby shower. Suhani insists on a girl-themed celebration, Prithvi and dadi want a boy theme. And as always, no one bothers to ask me.
Do I even exist in this house anymore? Maybe not. Right now, the only thing that exists is the baby.
I am Vikram Suryavanshi, owner of one of the top ten companies, a man whose advice is sought by powerful people. Yet here, in my own home, no one even asks me what I want.
The Suryavanshi mansion has turned into a battlefield. Let's see how this war ends.