Six months later—
Life with Vaishank and our little Raj has been nothing short of beautiful. Some nights are sleepless, some mornings chaotic — but every bit of it feels precious. Being a wife and mother fills me with a warmth I can't put into words.
"Come to papa, come to papa!" Vaishank kneels on the carpet, his eyes full of excitement.
"Come to mama, darling!" I coax sweetly, waving my hands playfully to catch Raj's attention.
Our son's big brown eyes dart between us, his tiny hands pressing against the floor as he starts to crawl. I smile, cheering softly, "Yes, come here, baby…"
But to my dismay, Raj turns toward Vaishank instead — crawling with determination, his giggles echoing through the living room.
"Oh no! Raj, look here!" I try to steal his attention, but it's useless. Within seconds, he reaches Vaishank, who lifts him up with a triumphant grin.
"Oh, so you're Papa's boy, huh?" he teases, rubbing his nose gently against Raj's tummy. Raj bursts into laughter — that pure, bubbly sound that could melt anyone's heart.
Watching them together, my heart swells. This — this is happiness.
Vaishank looks at me and smiles softly before opening his arm. I grin like a shy girl, leaning into his embrace. He presses a tender kiss on my forehead, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.
---
Later that afternoon, Raj is busy playing in the living room, surrounded by toys. The TV hums in the background because, in his little world, silence means tears. I've learned that even the television must stay awake if Raj is.
As I set lunch on the table, a familiar warmth circles my waist. My breath catches as Vaishank leans in from behind, his voice low and teasing.
"I'm hungry," he murmurs.
"The food's ready," I say, smiling.
He rests his chin on my shoulder, pulling me closer. "I didn't mean the food."
My cheeks flush instantly. His hand slides gently to my waist, his fingers brushing the edge of my blouse. His lips trail from my neck to my jaw, each kiss stealing my breath. My heart races wildly, the world blurring until it's just his touch and my heartbeat.
When he whispers, "Shall we go to the bedroom?" in that deep, seductive tone, I nod shyly. "Ye-yes…"
But just as he smiles, a loud cry interrupts the moment.
"Waaahhhh!"
We both freeze.
Turning toward the living room, Raj's little face is scrunched in tears. I blink in disbelief while Vaishank sighs and chuckles.
"I'll take care of him," he says, pressing a quick kiss on my cheek before walking away.
I can't help smiling as I return to the kitchen. His warmth still lingers on my skin — and though the moment ended too soon, I know it's worth it. Responsibility comes first.
---
Night settles softly over our home. Around 9 p.m., we sit on the carpet — Vaishank with his laptop, me beside Raj as he plays with his toys. Despite his work, Vaishank keeps glancing at Raj, tossing him smiles between typing.
"Papa's busy, come to mama," I tell Raj, lifting him gently when he crawls too close to the laptop. He picks up his toy car and throws it across the carpet, laughing.
"Raj, it's late. Should we go to sleep?" I ask.
He just grins up at me.
"So that's a yes?" I tease, leaning closer. But when I try to lift him, he squirms in protest.
And then —
"Dada."
I freeze. My heart skips.
Vaishank stops typing immediately, looking up in disbelief. "Did you… hear that?" he whispers.
I nod, smiling through sudden tears.
"Raj, did you call me?" Vaishank asks softly, picking him up. His voice trembles, eyes glistening as Raj giggles in his arms.
It's not just a word — it's a moment that wraps our whole little world in love.
I grab my phone from the coffee table and capture it — the first time our son said Dada.
A memory that will live with us forever.