Strings of Us

Hii cuties! 🎀

Hope you like the chapter ✨

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The days that followed felt like magic strung together-soft, glowing, golden. Each moment added to a collection of memories Mehul had never thought he'd have.

Shaurya, the once cold and distant CEO, had now become the most gentle husband and soon-to-be father anyone could imagine. He watched over Mehul like a hawk but loved him like the softest whisper of wind-gentle, nurturing, constant.

One lazy morning...

Mehul sat in his little art corner in the sunlit part of the living room, surrounded by colored pencils, soft pastels, and half-done sketches. His hand moved slowly across the canvas, sketching a little house with a garden and a tiny swing.

Shaurya walked in quietly with a tray of cut fruits and milk. He stopped by the doorway, watching Mehul hum softly to himself, speaking in a soft whisper to the small bump beneath his oversized t-shirt.

"...and when you come, we'll play in the garden. Daddy is building a swing just for you. And we'll paint too, okay? I'll teach you. Maybe you'll be better than me."

Shaurya didn't speak, not wanting to disturb the moment. But Mehul noticed him anyway.

He turned with a smile, "I was just talking to our baby. He-or she-is going to love painting."

Shaurya walked over, sat beside him, and placed the tray down. He gently rested his hand on Mehul's belly and kissed his temple. "I love hearing you talk like that. Our baby's going to be so lucky."

"No," Mehul whispered, placing his hand over Shaurya's, "We're the lucky ones."

A few days later...

The shopping trip was a hilarious, chaotic, and extremely adorable mess.

Abeer insisted on coming along with a giant checklist he made on the plane-yes, he flew in just for this. Rudra followed silently, carrying bags like a bodyguard while muttering complaints under his breath.

Shaurya pushed the cart while Mehul looked through tiny onesies, eyes wide with wonder at every little pair of socks or bib.

"Do you think we should go with yellow or mint green?" Mehul asked, holding both up.

"Get both," Shaurya said immediately.

"We already got five sets."

"We're getting more."

Abeer chimed in, "And don't forget the matching hat! Babies need aesthetics."

Rudra rolled his eyes for the 100th time that day. "Babies need milk and sleep, not aesthetic."

But even Rudra's cold façade cracked when Mehul held up a onesie that said "I Love My Uncles". He pretended not to be touched, but Shaurya noticed the slight softening in his eyes.

That night, in bed...

Mehul lay in Shaurya's arms, surrounded by warmth and the faint scent of baby lotion from all the gifts they'd unpacked.

"Shaurya ji?" he whispered, tracing invisible patterns on his chest.

"Hm?"

"Do you think... I'll be a good parent?"

Shaurya lifted his chin, forcing him to look into his eyes. "You already are. You've given this child so much love before they've even arrived."

"I just... want them to feel loved. Always. To never feel what I-"