Midnight — Kiaan's Room
The clock's soft ticking filled the quiet hallway as Yuvaan pushed open Kiaan's bedroom door, careful not to make it creak.
Moonlight spilled through the half-drawn curtains, painting silver across the small figure curled beneath a blue blanket.
Kiaan slept peacefully, one arm tucked under his cheek, his lashes soft against his skin.
Yuvaan walked in slowly… almost reverently.
His usual sternness melted the moment he stood beside the bed.
A faint, aching smile touched his lips.
He sat on the edge—light enough not to wake the boy—and brushed a hand through Kiaan's hair. The strands were soft, warm… innocent.
His voice came out in a whisper, fragile around the edges.
"Happy birthday, champ…"
He stroked Kiaan's hair again, fingertips tracing the tiny curls near his forehead.
"You're ten now," he breathed, a gentle tremor slipping into his tone.
"I don't know how you grew so fast… or how many things I still don't know how to handle. But—" He paused, swallowing as emotion surged up his throat.
"I'm trying. For you."
Kiaan stirred lightly, but did not wake.
Yuvaan leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his son's temple.
"Happy birthday…" he whispered again, as if blessing him.
For a moment he simply watched his son breathe—slow, steady, safe.
Something warm squeezed painfully in his chest.
Then he stood, quietly stepping away, his heart heavy yet full.
He closed Kiaan's door behind him and walked down the corridor lit only by night lamps.
In his room, he reached for the framed photograph on his desk—Kiara's smile frozen in a moment that would never return.
He sat on the edge of his bed, holding the photo with both hands.
"Kiara…" His voice cracked softly, a confession slipping out into the silent night.
"Tomorrow is Kiaan's tenth birthday."
He exhaled slowly, grief threading into the air.
"You should've been here," he murmured, thumb brushing along the glass over her face.
"He still looks for you. So do I. Every day."
His eyes burned. He looked away, blinking hard.
"I'm doing my best… but it never feels enough without you. I wish—" He stopped, jaw tightening, breath shaking.
"I wish you were here to see him. To hold him. He still feels like your boy more than mine."
A tremor passed through him.
"I miss you," he whispered.
"Today… tomorrow… always."
He set the photo down gently, as though afraid to hurt even the memory.
Outside, the wind rustled the curtains—soft, almost like a caress.
A single firefly drifted into Yuvaan's room, its tiny body glowing like a heartbeat in the dark. It fluttered softly, circling him once before settling gently on his shoulder—right where Kiara used to rest her hand.
Yuvaan froze.
A faint warmth spread through him, the kind that felt like a memory touching skin.
The firefly pulsed once… twice… and then lifted off again.
It floated toward the open window, weaving through the midnight air like it carried a message only destiny understood.
Far away, in the city lights, Khushi stood by the window of her small apartment. Her fingers absentmindedly clutched the old locket at her neck—the one she refused to remove even though she didn't know why. The emptiness in her chest had been growing all evening, a strange ache she couldn't name.
The firefly glided through the night and reached her window.
Khushi's breath hitched.
The tiny glow hovered in front of her, almost as if it were… searching.
Her eyes softened with a confusion she couldn't explain.
She lifted her hand slowly, and the firefly's light flickered—bright, familiar.
For a second, she felt a pull.
A whisper of something forgotten.
Something hers.
The firefly circled her once, casting a soft golden halo around her face… and then drifted back into the night, leaving her standing frozen, fingers still clutching the locket as though it might answer the questions she didn't yet know how to ask.
Back to Yuvaan's room
Yuvaan closed the door quietly behind him, the room settling into a soft hush. He walked toward the table where Kiara's photograph stood, illuminated by the pale spill of moonlight. Her smile—frozen in time—felt both comforting and cruel.
He lifted the frame with gentle, almost hesitant hands.
For a moment, he simply stared… then he pulled the photo against his chest, holding it as if he feared it might slip away from him forever. His eyes shut, and memories washed over him—Kiara laughing as she chased bubbles with tiny Kiaan, Kiara brushing his hair off his forehead, Kiara whispering "Everything feels right when you're here."
The weight of her absence settled over him like a thick fog.
"I wish you were here today…" he murmured, voice trembling. "Kiaan turns ten tomorrow, Kiara. Our little boy. You would've been so proud."
A tear slid down his cheek and fell onto the glass of the frame. Yuvaan didn't bother wiping it away. He just held the photo tighter, grounding himself in the only piece of her he still had.
Midnight crept in slowly, each second stretching out like a thread pulling at his heart.
To be continued…