Taqdeer ~ A SOTY FF [Completed] - Page 6

While Rohan has taken the high road, Abhi takes the low one. He could not just stand back and watch things unfold. To let things play out as they should. He went and rocked the boat.

So disappointed with the choice Abhi made and the path he took. Rohan was willing to step back and hide his pain. He did not want to hamper Abhi's recovery. Abhi wants to manipulate emotions and get his way. He cared nothing for other's feelings. So selfish of him.

Chapter 13 (Shadows of Possession)

Intrusion of Shadows

The soft chime of the mansion’s front doorbell echoed through the halls, and Shanaya looked up from the jasmine trellis, frowning slightly. Rohan straightened beside her, brushing dirt from his hands, his gaze following her curious glance.

“Who could that be?” she murmured, glancing toward the veranda.

Before either of them could move, Abhimanyu appeared behind her, his expression calm but unreadable, a quiet satisfaction glimmering in his eyes. “You’ll see soon enough,” he said softly, almost teasingly, before walking away toward the driveway.

Moments later, Tanya swept into the garden, her entrance bold and self-assured, a bright smile plastered across her face. “Abhi! It’s been ages!” she called, her voice ringing like a bell, but her eyes immediately landing on Rohan. Her grin widened in recognition and mischief.

Rohan blinked, taken aback. “Tanya… what are you doing here?”

“Oh, just came to say hi,” she replied, stepping closer than necessary. Her gaze lingered flirtatiously, and she gave a little toss of her hair. “Abhi said you might be here… thought I’d drop by and—” Her words trailed as she leaned just a bit closer to Rohan, brushing past Shanaya’s shoulder almost deliberately.

Shanaya stiffened, her chest tightening. The intimacy in Tanya’s gesture, the casual proximity to Rohan—it stirred a sharp, uncomfortable unease deep inside her. Her fingers clenched the pruning shears in her hand, a fragile attempt at composure.

“Tanya… please,” Shanaya said, voice low but firm, stepping slightly in front of Rohan, trying to put a polite but clear boundary. “This is… our private space.”

Tanya laughed lightly, dismissive yet teasing. “Private? Oh, come on, Shanaya… it’s just a garden. Don’t look so serious!” She tilted her head at Rohan, her eyes sparkling with unspoken challenge. “Abhi told me you’d be here… I thought maybe we could… catch up.”

Abhimanyu watched from the veranda, a faint smirk ghosting his lips. The careful choreography of his plan was unfolding exactly as he had imagined. His pulse quickened, not entirely with satisfaction—there was jealousy there too—but with the thrill of control.

Rohan’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching at his sides, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. He straightened, putting a subtle distance between Tanya and Shanaya, his protective instinct flaring quietly but unmistakably. “We’re busy right now,” he said, voice even but edged with warning.

Tanya raised an eyebrow, mock offense flickering across her face. “Busy? Oh, come on, Rohan… it’s not like you two are—” She trailed off, realizing the sharp tension in the air. Her smile faltered just slightly, but she leaned closer to test the waters.

Shanaya felt her heart hammer, a mix of anger, unease, and fierce protectiveness flooding her chest. Every instinct screamed that Tanya’s proximity to Rohan was wrong, threatening the fragile boundaries she had fought so hard to maintain.

“Rohan,” Shanaya said, voice firm, almost clipped, stepping even closer. “Please… I don’t want anyone interrupting this.”

Rohan’s gaze softened at her urgency. Without a word, he subtly shifted closer to Shanaya, a protective presence that reassured her, even in the thick tension. He didn’t move aggressively—just enough to silently signal that Shanaya had his full attention.

Tanya leaned closer to Rohan again, her voice lilting with teasing familiarity. “You always were such a serious one… I remember in St. Teresa’s, you’d never let anyone have fun.” Her hand brushed lightly against a stray leaf Rohan had been trimming, lingering just a moment too long.

Shanaya’s chest tightened further. She stepped subtly closer, letting her fingers lightly touch Rohan’s arm as he straightened, a natural, grounding gesture. It was small, almost imperceptible—but the message was clear: Rohan’s heart was hers.

Rohan’s eyes flickered to Shanaya, a soft warmth passing between them. He responded with a quiet squeeze of her hand against his arm, just enough for her to feel the unspoken bond. Tanya’s playful smirk faltered, sensing the subtle but undeniable intimacy radiating between Shanaya and Rohan.

“Shanaya…” Rohan murmured softly, just above the whisper of the wind, “are you… okay?”

“I’m fine,” Shanaya replied, voice steady, though her pulse raced. “I just… I want to be here with you, that’s all.”

Tanya’s eyes narrowed slightly, the playful light in them replaced with challenge. “Oh… I see how it is,” she said, stepping back, her tone teasing but edged with faint irritation. “I guess some things never change.”

Shanaya’s gaze remained firm on Rohan, her body instinctively shielding the small space between them. Every subtle touch, every glance was a quiet declaration: this bond belonged to them, and no flirtation, no interference, could break it.

From the veranda, Abhimanyu moved silently, ostensibly heading toward the study. But when he passed the sideboard near the kitchen, a glint of white paper caught his eye, partially sticking out from beneath a pile of documents. Curious, he bent to inspect, his fingers brushing against the envelope—and froze.

Inside were the court marriage papers—Shanaya and Rohan’s names, signatures, and the official seal glaring back at him.

The air seemed to shift instantly. Abhimanyu’s chest tightened. The faint irritation he had felt watching Tanya’s antics was nothing compared to the shock now coursing through him. It wasn’t Tanya’s behavior that unsettled him—it was Shanaya’s. The quiet way she looked at Rohan, the instinctive closeness they shared, the unspoken understanding between them. And now, holding the court papers in his hand, realization struck like lightning: Shanaya’s heart, her loyalty, her very future, had already been claimed by Rohan in ways he had never anticipated.

From the garden, he could still hear the soft murmur of voices—Shanaya gently asserting her closeness to Rohan, the protective intimacy that now radiated between them. Tanya’s laughter, now slightly strained, floated faintly on the breeze, a reminder that no one else could compete.

Abhimanyu’s hands curled into fists. He wanted to step forward, confront the reality, question Shanaya, reclaim what he had imagined for himself—but the evidence in his hand and the subtle intimacy he witnessed silenced him. He had underestimated the depth of their bond, and the jealousy that simmered in his chest turned bitter, heavy.

Shanaya, still holding Rohan’s arm lightly, glanced toward the house, sensing the shadow of Abhimanyu’s presence. Her pulse quickened—not with fear, but with the urgency to navigate the delicate emotional terrain. She had never intended for him to know, not yet, but the balance had shifted irreversibly.

Rohan, sensing her tension, whispered just enough for her ears, “Whatever happens… we handle this together.”

Shanaya nodded, gripping his hand a little tighter, letting the garden witness the quiet defiance, the intimate assertion of what was theirs.

Abhimanyu remained frozen by the sideboard, the court papers heavy in his hand, his mind a storm of jealousy, realization, and reluctant respect. The quiet tension in the garden had become a tangible line of power, pulling at all three hearts, each of them standing at the precipice of choices that could change everything.

Collision of Hearts

The garden was thick with unspoken tension. Tanya, sensing her subtle attempts at distraction were failing, leaned closer to Rohan again, her voice dripping with playful provocation. “You always were such a bore… maybe that’s why Shanaya ended up clinging to you so much back then,” she teased, brushing her fingers against his arm in a deliberate, lingering touch.

Shanaya’s chest tightened, a fire igniting in her veins. She had tolerated subtle tests of boundaries before, but Tanya’s boldness now—flirting openly, invading the space that had always been hers and Rohan’s—crossed a line. Every instinct screamed.

Rohan stiffened, a quiet warning flashing in his eyes, but he didn’t move—he trusted Shanaya to act, as he always had.

Shanaya stepped closer to him, her hands finding his, fingers intertwining with a fierce determination. She looked Tanya directly in the eyes, letting the silent challenge in her gaze speak louder than words. “This… this is ours,” she said softly but firmly, her voice carrying the weight of certainty, protectiveness, and unshakable love.

Tanya’s smirk faltered, her confidence shaken. She had underestimated the depth of what Shanaya and Rohan shared. But before she could retreat or counter, a shadow fell across the garden. Abhimanyu’s tall figure had stepped closer, the court papers still in his hand, his gaze sharp and questioning, ready to confront the undeniable tension he had been sensing.

Shanaya’s heart raced. The moment was precarious, every heartbeat echoing in her chest. She could feel Rohan’s pulse quicken beside her, his silent support grounding her.

Then, without thinking, propelled by a mix of anger, defiance, and the urgency of the truth she had carried for too long, Shanaya pressed herself to Rohan. Her lips met his in a kiss that was sudden, intense, and claiming—right in front of Tanya and Abhimanyu.

Abhimanyu’s mind reeled back to that moment during their college days when he had kissed Shanaya—a moment witnessed by Rohan, back when she had been his girlfriend—and how it had marked a turning point in their relationships. Today, he felt as if he were standing in that very same moment all over again.

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To be continued.

Chapter 14 (Bound by Love, Freed by Truth)

Whispers of Truth

The garden seemed to hold its breath. Even the rustle of leaves quieted, as though nature itself refused to interrupt what had just unfolded. Tanya’s smirk dissolved instantly, her lips parting in stunned disbelief. Abhimanyu froze mid-step, the court papers slipping slightly from his grasp, their edges fluttering in the still air.

The kiss broke slowly—Shanaya pulled back just enough to meet Rohan’s eyes. His gaze was dazed, filled with wonder, confusion, and something deeper—understanding. Her hands remained locked around his, her entire body trembling with the magnitude of what she was about to reveal.

“Abhimanyu…” Her voice trembled but did not waver. “Rohan’s mine.”

The words struck with the force of a revelation—heavy with emotion, finality, and truth. The syllables hung in the air—firm, unapologetic, and clear.

Rohan blinked, absorbing her declaration, his heartbeat drumming against her palms. Tanya stood rigid, eyes darting between them, realization and humiliation dawning simultaneously.

But Shanaya wasn’t finished. She drew in a breath, her pulse thundering in her ears. “And… there’s more.”

Her fingers tightened around Rohan’s, her eyes shimmering with tears that caught the afternoon light. “I’m carrying his child.”

The world fell utterly silent. For one breathless moment, time stopped.

Abhimanyu’s chest rose sharply as though the air itself had turned heavy. His eyes widened, disbelief mixing with a searing pang of jealousy that burned through his composure. The papers in his hand trembled, his mind struggling to reconcile the image before him—the woman he once believed was bound to him now standing, heart and soul, with another man.

Tanya’s playful posture crumbled into stunned paralysis. Whatever casual game she had been drawn into now seemed cruel and pointless in the face of such truth.

Rohan’s grip on Shanaya’s hands tightened instinctively. His expression softened, emotion surging through him—love, awe, protectiveness. “Shanaya…” he whispered, his voice breaking on her name. “You… you should’ve told me sooner.”

Tears glistened on Shanaya’s lashes. “I wanted to,” she admitted, her voice shaking. “But everything was so tangled—Abhi, the past, the fear of losing you again… I didn’t want our happiness to be shadowed by anyone else.”

Rohan exhaled shakily, his forehead leaning against hers, grounding her in a quiet, intimate moment amidst the chaos. “Nothing could ever shadow this,” he murmured. “Not now. Not ever.”

The silence that followed was deafening. The garden—once alive with soft wind and murmuring leaves—now seemed frozen, suspended in the aftermath of a truth that could no longer be hidden.

Abhimanyu stood still, his pulse roaring in his ears, his thoughts splintering between disbelief and rage. The sight of Shanaya’s lips on Rohan’s, her trembling confession of love, the revelation of the life she carried—all of it tore through him like a blade.

Tanya shifted uncomfortably, her earlier mischief gone. “I… I should go,” she murmured, retreating toward the veranda. Neither Shanaya nor Rohan responded; their eyes remained locked, the world narrowing to the fragile space between them.

The Breaking Point

Abhimanyu’s voice finally broke through the stillness—low, strained, but burning with suppressed emotion. “So… this is what you were hiding, Shanaya?”

Shanaya slowly turned to face him. Her hand stayed firmly clasped in Rohan’s, even as her heart pounded. “Abhimanyu… I didn’t mean for you to find out this way,” she began, her voice soft yet unwavering.

He laughed bitterly, a sound that didn’t reach his eyes. “Didn’t mean for me to find out? Shanaya, I watched you fall apart once—after he left you. I helped you rebuild yourself. And now, after everything—after me—you’re telling me this?”

Rohan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew this confrontation was inevitable.

“Abhi,” Shanaya said quietly, stepping forward just enough to face him squarely. “You didn’t rebuild me. You helped me survive. There’s a difference.”

The words hit harder than she realized. Abhimanyu’s eyes darkened, his chest heaving with the force of emotion he could no longer suppress.
“You call this survival? Hiding your marriage? Carrying his child while pretending nothing’s changed? You call that love—or guilt?”

Rohan stepped forward, his voice steady but edged. “Enough, Abhimanyu.”

Abhimanyu’s gaze snapped to him, fury simmering beneath the surface. “Don’t—” he hissed, his voice cracking. “Don’t talk like you understand. You walked away once, Rohan. You left her broken. I was the one who stayed.”

Shanaya’s eyes welled with tears, but she held her ground. “I did love you once, Abhi,” she said softly, her voice trembling but sure. “When I thought I’d lost you… it shattered me. Every sunrise felt meaningless, every breath heavy. Rohan was just—there. He didn’t try to fix me or replace you. He just… stood by me when I couldn’t even stand for myself.”

She drew in a shaky breath, her gaze flickering briefly toward Rohan before returning to Abhimanyu. “Somewhere between the silence, the grief, and the way he refused to let me fall apart, something changed. I didn’t even realize when it happened. But one day, I looked at him—and I wasn’t broken anymore.”

Abhimanyu’s throat worked, the weight of her words pressing down on him like an unseen storm. “And all that time,” he said hoarsely, “you thought I was gone?”

Shanaya nodded faintly. “They told me you were dead, Abhi. I mourned you. I lived with that loss every single day.”

Abhimanyu’s eyes glistened, his composure cracking for the first time. “And yet I came back,” he whispered, stepping forward. “For you. Every decision, every breath, every damn thing I did after surviving that accident—it was to find you.”

Shanaya’s lips quivered. “I know,” she said, her voice breaking. “And if you had come back sooner… maybe things would’ve been different. But you didn’t. And life didn’t wait.”

Rohan’s hand tightened around hers, grounding her. The silence that followed was thick with everything unsaid—grief for what once was, and quiet acceptance for what now is.

The confession hung in the air—raw and irretrievable.

Abhimanyu’s grip tightened around the papers until they crumpled in his fist. His voice, when it came again, was barely more than a whisper. “You married him. You actually… married him.”

Shanaya nodded. “Yes.”

Something flickered in his eyes—hurt, jealousy, but also a deep, weary acceptance trying to surface beneath it. He turned slightly, his silhouette stark against the dying sunlight.

“I thought if I kept you close… maybe you’d remember what we had,” he said softly. “But you never really belonged to me, did you?”

Rohan’s hand found Shanaya’s again, squeezing gently. She looked up at Abhimanyu with quiet compassion. “You’ll always matter to me, Abhi. But not like that. Not anymore.”

Abhimanyu exhaled slowly, the fight draining from his posture. He looked between them—the intertwined hands, the shared gaze, the unspoken understanding—and realized there was no space left for him in this story.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, the crushed papers falling from his hand, fluttering to the garden floor like broken promises.

Shanaya watched him go, her chest heavy but her spirit lighter than it had been in months. Rohan turned her gently toward him, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“I am now,” she whispered. “Finally.”

The evening breeze stirred again, carrying away the remnants of tension, of secrecy, of everything that had once kept them apart.
For the first time, the garden didn’t feel like a battleground—it felt like peace.

Echoes of the Past

The night air was crisp as Abhimanyu stepped out of the mansion, the weight of the garden confrontation pressing heavily on his shoulders. He drove in silence, the tires crunching over the gravel paths until he found himself at St. Teresa’s, the college grounds where it had all begun—a place frozen in time, steeped in memories of laughter, rivalry, and the first hints of love. The empty quad was illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlamps, casting long shadows across the familiar buildings.

Earlier, back at the mansion, as the truth had spilled into the garden—the kiss, the confession, the revelation of the child—Shanaya had taken a quiet moment to herself. Leaning against the veranda railing, she reflected on the journey of her heart.

She had loved Abhimanyu once, deeply and passionately, the kind of love that had shaped her youth. He had been her world, her anchor, and the thought of him lost had once shattered her entirely. But during the time she believed he was gone, a fragile, unexpected connection had begun to bloom with Rohan.

It had been subtle at first—the way he listened without judgment, the quiet support that never demanded her heart, the laughter that slowly mended cracks she hadn’t realized were still there. She hadn’t sought to fall for him; it had simply happened in small, ordinary moments, until she realized that in Rohan, she had found a love that was steady, unshakable, and safe enough to hope for a future—even one with a child.

She had mourned her love for Abhimanyu, yes, but with Rohan she had discovered a new certainty. Freeing herself from the past had allowed her to embrace what was truly hers to claim.

Abhimanyu parked near the fountain where he and Shanaya had once argued over trivial things, their voices sharp but tinged with youthful passion. Now, every echo of those memories felt like a knife twisting in his chest. The court papers crumpled in his pocket, a tangible weight mirroring the heaviness in his heart.

He sank onto the cold stone edge of the fountain, staring blankly at the still water. His mind replayed the garden scene—the kiss, Shanaya’s trembling confession, Rohan’s gentle reassurance, the child growing within her. Every image stabbed at him, a bitter reminder that time and fate had moved on without him.

“You loved me once,” he whispered into the night, voice hoarse. “And yet… you chose him.”

The wind rustled through the trees, carrying faint echoes of the past—classroom whispers, shared assignments, fleeting touches that had once promised forever. He had thought he understood love, thought he could reclaim it, but now every certainty he had clung to seemed to crumble.

The crunch of footsteps on the gravel interrupted his thoughts. “You’re hard on yourself, you know.”

Abhimanyu stiffened, his hand instinctively reaching for the papers in his pocket. He turned to see Tanya standing a few steps away, her silhouette outlined by the lamplight. Her usual teasing confidence was softened by something different—something empathetic.

“Abhi…” she began softly, her voice unusually gentle, carrying none of her usual mischief. “I didn’t mean for things to get so messy tonight.”

He didn’t look at her, eyes fixed on the fountain’s still water. “Messy?” he repeated bitterly. “You saw it. You know. Shanaya… Rohan… and the child.”

Tanya stepped closer, careful to respect the distance he seemed to need. “I did. And I… I get it, more than you think. You loved her, truly. But you can’t fight what’s already happened, what’s already grown between them.”

Abhimanyu’s jaw tightened. “You mean… I should just accept it?” His voice was low, but the anger under it throbbed like a pulse.

Tanya’s gaze met his without judgment. “You loved her. You stayed when she thought you were gone. That matters. But love… isn’t always about possession.”

Abhimanyu’s jaw tightened further. “And yet she chose him,” he said bitterly. “Even after everything I did… everything I gave.”

“I know,” Tanya admitted softly. “And that hurts. It should. But maybe… she needed someone to stand beside her when she felt abandoned, someone who didn’t even try to fill your place—someone like Rohan.” Her voice carried a quiet wisdom that surprised him. “That doesn’t erase what you meant to her. Or what she meant to you. It just… means the story changed.”

Abhimanyu looked away, staring at the fountain water again. “And I… I came back for her. All that pain, all that uncertainty… I risked everything just to be near her. And it wasn’t enough.”

Tanya’s expression softened further, almost tenderly. “Sometimes, Abhi, it’s never about being enough. Sometimes it’s about letting go. And maybe… that’s the hardest thing of all.”

The words hung in the air like a fragile truce. Abhimanyu felt the tension in his shoulders ease slightly, though the ache in his chest remained. He had lost, yes—but perhaps this moment, this quiet reckoning, was the first step toward understanding, toward releasing the past without forgetting it.

Tanya gave him a small, understanding nod before turning back toward the path. “You’ll find your way through this. I promise. And who knows… maybe one day, when the pain isn’t so raw, you’ll see that love isn’t about possession. It’s about knowing what’s worth keeping—and what’s worth letting go.”

The words settled between them, heavy but strangely cleansing. Abhimanyu exhaled slowly, feeling the tension that had gripped him all evening loosen just slightly. He sank his hands into his hair, staring once more at the fountain, the ghosts of past laughter and arguments mingling with the ache of loss.

Tanya stayed a few steps behind, silent now, letting him process, letting the night bear witness to his quiet reckoning. “You’ll heal,” she finally said, almost as if reassuring herself as much as him. “Time… distance… perspective. You’ll see that.”

Abhimanyu nodded slowly, not ready to speak, but a small part of him—one he hadn’t acknowledged in hours—felt the weight lift a fraction. The memories of Shanaya, the intensity of their past, the sting of the present—they were all there, but he understood something vital: his story with her had changed, and the truth, painful as it was, needed to be accepted.

The college grounds stretched silently around them, familiar yet altered by the night’s revelations. For the first time, Abhimanyu allowed himself a pause—a breath in the quiet of St. Teresa’s, where it had all begun and, perhaps, where he would finally begin to move forward.

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To be continued.

Chapter 15 (Love, Legacy, and New Beginnings)

Promises Under the Moonlight

The night wrapped St. Teresa’s in a quiet stillness, the campus almost deserted, the soft glow of the lamplights casting long shadows over the familiar paths. Shanaya and Rohan walked slowly along the stone walkway, their fingers intertwined, the warmth of each other grounding them amidst the whirlwind of the day.

Shanaya let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “It’s… strange,” she murmured, her voice low, “how quickly life changes. One moment, everything feels certain, and the next… nothing is the same.”

Rohan’s thumb brushed over her knuckles, a soft, grounding touch. “It’s only different because it’s real,” he said gently. “Everything we have now—us, the child—it’s not built on fear or misunderstandings. It’s built on truth. On honesty. On love that’s fought its way here.”

Shanaya’s gaze fell to her abdomen, and she rested a hand lightly on the small swell. “I never thought I’d feel this… calm about it. About carrying a child. I was scared, overwhelmed… what if I fail? What if I can’t protect them?”

Rohan pulled her gently closer, so she could lean against his chest. “Shh,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “You won’t fail. Not because you’re perfect, but because we’re in this together. Every step, every challenge… we’ll face it as a team. I’ll be here, always.”

Shanaya tilted her head, letting his words sink in, feeling the quiet certainty in his presence. “I thought I could never feel safe again,” she whispered. “Not after everything… not after losing Abhi, not after all the confusion. And then… you came along. When I didn’t even expect to love again, you showed me I could.”

Rohan tightened his embrace slightly, resting his chin atop her head. “You deserved that. And you deserve to feel it every day. That safety, that love… I’ll give it to you, Shanaya. And I’ll give it to our child. Nothing will ever make me stop.”

A soft smile spread across his face, and he bent down gently toward her abdomen. Placing a tender kiss over the small curve, he whispered softly, “Hey little one… I can’t wait to meet you. I promise I’ll always be here. I’ll protect you. I’ll love you as much as I love your mother.”

Shanaya gasped softly as she felt the baby shift, almost as if responding to Rohan’s kiss. A tiny flutter stirred inside her, a delicate reminder that life was already reaching out in its own small, miraculous way. She pressed her hand over his, laughing through tears. “I think they like you already,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Rohan lifted his eyes to hers, his own shimmering with emotion, and kissed her forehead. “It is ours,” he murmured. “All of it. From this moment to forever.”

For a long moment, they simply stood there, the night embracing them in its quiet serenity. The soft rustle of leaves, the faint hum of distant night life—none of it mattered. There was only the steady beat of hearts intertwined, the warmth of hands clasped, and the gentle promise of a life filled with love, hope, and family.

Shanaya rested against him, letting herself fully feel the night, the child within her, and the steady heartbeat of the man who had become her everything. For the first time in a long while, the future didn’t feel scary. It felt full of promise, of love, and of the life they would share—one that no past, no shadow, could ever touch.

A Birthday, Twice Blessed

The garden shimmered in the gentle morning sunlight, alive with colorful balloons, streamers, and the cheerful chatter of children. Shanaya adjusted the little party hats on the table while her first daughter ran circles around the yard, her laughter echoing like music. The soft curve of Shanaya’s belly hinted at the twins growing inside her, and Rohan’s hand rested lovingly atop it, his eyes bright with pride and affection.

“Mommy, Daddy, come see!” their daughter squealed, pointing at a small stack of presents she had already claimed. Rohan bent down to her level, lifting her into his arms. “Happy Birthday, my little princess,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. Shanaya laughed, brushing her daughter’s hair back as tears of joy glistened in her eyes.

Rohan then leaned closer to Shanaya’s belly, pressing his lips softly to it. “Hello in there… your big sister can’t wait to meet you, and we can’t wait to meet you both,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth. Shanaya’s hand covered his, tears slipping freely as she savored the tender moment.

The sound of a car pulling up caught their attention, and the front gate swung open to reveal Abhimanyu and Tanya walking in, their smiles hesitant but genuine. Abhimanyu’s posture was calm, unburdened by the jealousy that had once shadowed his heart, a subtle peace in his gaze. Tanya walked slightly ahead, her hand brushing his shoulder, radiating the quiet confidence that had guided him through the emotional storm of the past months.

“Surprise!” Tanya called cheerfully. “We couldn’t miss this celebration.”

Rohan stood, holding Shanaya’s hand lightly. “Abhi,” he said, his tone neutral but polite. “Glad you could make it.”

Abhimanyu’s gaze flickered between Shanaya, Rohan, and the little girl running around the garden. For a moment, memories of the past tried to tug at him—but they didn’t. He exhaled slowly, a soft smile forming. “She’s… grown so much,” he said, his voice calm. “Happy Birthday, little one.”

Their daughter ran to him eagerly, curiosity lighting her face. “You brought me a gift?” she asked. Abhimanyu knelt to her height, producing a small, wrapped present from his bag. “For you,” he said softly, handing it over. She tore it open with delight, revealing a small storybook, and Rohan watched silently, recognizing the sincerity in Abhimanyu’s gestures.

Shanaya observed the exchange, her heart swelling with relief and quiet gratitude. Abhimanyu had clearly moved on, the wisdom Tanya had shared with him evident in his composed demeanor. There was no tension, no lingering jealousy—just acknowledgment, acceptance, and respect.

As the birthday cake appeared, decorated with colorful frosting and tiny candles, Rohan bent to Shanaya again, brushing a soft kiss across her belly. “Soon,” he whispered, smiling down at the twins growing inside her. “Soon, we’ll all be together, and our family will be complete.” Shanaya rested her head against his shoulder, breathing in the calm, joyful air of the garden, feeling the gentle flutter of life within her.

The little girl blew out her candles with an exuberant giggle, and everyone clapped. Abhimanyu’s eyes softened as he watched, the sight of their happiness settling a quiet satisfaction in him. Tanya placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, a silent acknowledgment that he had arrived at peace with the past.

As the cake was being set on the table, Abhimanyu finally found a quiet moment to speak with Rohan and Shanaya. He cleared his throat lightly, curiosity and a trace of disbelief coloring his tone.

“So… what’s her name?” he asked, gesturing toward the little girl running around in excitement.

Rohan exchanged a brief glance with Shanaya before smiling. “Her name is… AbhiSha,” he said, the syllables rolling off his tongue with pride.

Abhimanyu froze. “AbhiSha?” His voice caught, a mixture of shock, nostalgia, and incredulity.

Shanaya looked gently at him, sensing his stunned reaction. “Yes,” she said softly. “Abhi… it’s Abhisha. We always loved that name… remember?”

Abhimanyu’s eyes widened further as memories flooded back—the countless late-night conversations, the laughter and arguments, and the secret excitement of choosing a name together long ago. “I… I can’t believe it,” he murmured, his voice thick. “You… you actually named her that?”

Rohan chuckled softly, sensing the layers of emotion in the moment. “Yes. We wanted a name that carried a piece of both of you,” he said lightly, giving Shanaya’s hand a gentle squeeze.

The little girl, sensing the attention on her, toddled toward Abhimanyu. He bent down slowly, eyes level with hers, and extended his hands. “Hi… Abhisha,” he said softly, his voice gentle, almost reverent.

She giggled and reached for his face, and Abhimanyu’s heart softened. Carefully, he kissed the top of her head, a gesture of warmth and quiet connection. The touch was brief, yet it carried the weight of memories, forgiveness, and acceptance all at once.

Shanaya watched, her own eyes misting, as she saw the soft, peaceful smile finally appear on Abhimanyu’s face. “See?” Tanya whispered beside him. “You’re part of her story too.”

Abhimanyu straightened slightly, meeting both Shanaya and Rohan’s gaze. “I want you both to know… I’ve truly moved on,” he said, voice steady, carrying a rare sincerity. “I see the love you share, the life you’ve built… and I respect it. Abhisha… she’s lucky to have you both.”

Shanaya felt her chest swell with relief and gratitude, and Rohan nodded appreciatively. Abhimanyu’s words, filled with wisdom and acceptance, lifted a weight none of them had realized they were carrying.

In that sunlit garden, laughter and love mingled freely. The celebration was more than just a birthday—it was a testament to new beginnings, enduring love, and the promise of life unfolding beautifully. Twice blessed, with hearts at peace and the past and present entwined, love had been claimed, forgiveness given, and life had found its perfect rhythm.

-----

The End.

Abhi might think he put a good plan in motion, but he might just have opened the floodgates. Rohan and Shanaya have been quiet for his sake, but they might be forced to speak up now.

Why would Tanya irritate Abhi? He is the one who brought her there. Now he finds her actions irritating? He knew just what she would do.

A kiss was a turning point then, and a kiss is a turning point now. Only the roles have been reversed.

Tanya's words were wise. For someone who was just ready to flirt and cause trouble, she has quite a lot grounding to her. Maybe time gave her that.

Tanya has been there for Abhi, lending her support and providing wisdom. Abhi has learned to accept things as they are.