The first year after Amaira’s birth changed everything inside the Malhotra mansion.

The house that had once felt cold and silent was now constantly filled with tiny giggles, scattered toys, baby blankets lying on expensive couches, and the sound of little footsteps running through hallways at impossible speed.

And Aarav…he had become completely unrecognizable.

The same man who once terrified entire boardrooms with a single look now spent his mornings sitting cross-legged on the carpet while his daughter climbed over his shoulders like he was her personal playground.

Amaira owned him. Entirely.

The first time she called him “Papa,” Aarav had cancelled three meetings immediately and spent the rest of the day carrying her around the house like she had personally handed him the meaning of life.

Meher never stopped teasing him after that.

“You know she’s spoiled because of you, right?” she said one evening while watching father and daughter sitting on the floor near the fireplace.

Amaira had somehow convinced Aarav to wear a pink plastic tiara on his head while she aggressively colored on his office documents with crayons. Aarav didn’t even look bothered.

“She’s my daughter,” he replied calmly, as if that explained everything.

Meher folded her arms. “And what exactly does that have to do with ruining your important files?”

Aarav glanced down at Amaira, who proudly held up a paper covered in violent red scribbles. “It’s modern art.”

Meher stared at him for two seconds before bursting into laughter.

Aarav just sat there quietly looking at both of them with that same expression he always had now whenever his family was near him.

Complete.

Sometimes Meher still caught him staring at her randomly.nEspecially during nights. Like he still couldn’t fully believe she was really there beside him after everything they had survived.

One night, almost three years after Amaira’s birth, Meher woke up around midnight and found Aarav sitting beside their sleeping daughter’s who was in their bed.

Amaira had one tiny hand wrapped around his finger while she slept peacefully beneath her cartoon blanket.

“Aarav, Amaira yahan kese?,” Meher whispered sleepily.

Aarav looked up. For a moment he simply watched her, wearing one of his oversized shirts, her hair messy from sleep, eyes still heavy and soft in the dim nightlight.

God. Even after all these years she still destroyed him without trying.

“She kicked me out from your side,” he said quietly, glancing toward Amaira.

Meher frowned. “What?”

“She said Mama is hers today, she will sleep beside you.”

Meher laughed softly before walking towards him.

Aarav immediately pulled her into his lap the moment she came close, his arms wrapping around her waist automatically like second nature.

“You deserve it,” she murmured against his shoulder. “You spoil her too much.”

“She’s cute just like you.”

“You say that every time.”

“Because it’s true.”

Meher smiled helplessly before resting her head against his chest. For a few quiet seconds neither of them spoke.

Then softly, almost casually, she said—

“I want another baby.”

Aarav went completely still. The silence that followed was immediate. Meher slowly lifted her head already knowing that expression on his face.

“No,” he said flatly.

She sighed dramatically. “You didn’t even think about it.”

“I already know my answer.”

“Aarav…”

“No.”

Meher stared at him in disbelief. “Do you realize normal husbands usually discuss these things?”

“I am discussing it.”

“This isn’t discussion! This is dictatorship.”

Aarav ignored that completely and looked back toward their sleeping daughter.

“One child is enough.”

Meher’s expression softened slightly then because she knew exactly why he reacted this way every single time.

He was scared. Even after three years, Aarav had never forgotten the night she gave birth to Amaira.

He still remembered her crying in pain. Still remembered the doctors worrying about her blood pressure. Still remembered standing helplessly beside her hospital bed while she suffered through hours that nearly broke him mentally.

That fear had stayed inside him ever since. And Meher understood it. But still…

She wanted another baby. Not immediately. Not recklessly. Just someday.

Because every time she saw Amaira playing alone in the huge mansion, something inside her wished their daughter could have a sibling.

Someone to grow up with. Someone to fight with. Someone to love after them. As she knows how it's feel like to grow alone without any sibling.

So over the next year— Meher slowly started working on her impossible husband.

Not through arguments. That never worked on Aarav. Instead she attacked emotionally.

Like showing him videos of siblings online while pretending she wasn’t doing it intentionally.

Or whispering softly while cuddling him at night, “Amaira would make such a good big sister…”

And the worst one— Whenever Amaira asked innocently, “Papa, can I habe a baby to play wid?”

Aarav looked personally betrayed every single time. Still, he resisted for months.

Until one night Meher finally climbed into his lap, held his face gently, and whispered against his lips—

“You know… our babies will always look cute.”

That man folded instantly. Completely finished.

Nine months later, Aarav found himself pacing outside an operation theater while doctors prepared Meher for her scheduled C-section.

This pregnancy had been much smoother than the first one, but Aarav was still losing his mind internally.

The nurses had already told him at least five times to sit down. He ignored every single one.

The moment they finally allowed him inside before the surgery began, Aarav immediately walked straight toward Meher.

She looked nervous despite trying to hide it. The second she saw him, her fingers reached for his hand automatically.

Aarav held it tightly before leaning down and kissing her forehead slowly.

“You come back to me perfectly fine,” he murmured quietly against her skin.

Meher smiled weakly. “You’re still dramatic.”

“No,” Aarav whispered, brushing his thumb gently across her cheek.

“Just in love with you.”

Two hours later— Their son entered the world loudly enough to announce his existence to the entire hospital floor.

And somehow… The moment Aarav held him for the first time while Amaira stood beside him excitedly trying to touch the baby’s tiny fingers—

Something inside his chest settled forever. This was everything.

Not the business empire.bNot success. Not power. Just this little family standing together inside a hospital room.

Amaira immediately climbed onto the bed beside Meher and announced proudly—

“I’m the big sister now.”

Meher laughed tiredly while Aarav stood beside them holding their son carefully against his chest.

Then his eyes slowly moved toward his wife. And for a moment the rest of the room disappeared completely.

Because after everything life had put them through… She was still his greatest blessing.

The woman who had once walked away from him with tears in her eyes had somehow become the entire center of his world.

And now— Looking at her holding their daughter while their son slept peacefully in his arms—

Aarav realized something very quietly. Home had never been a place.

It had always been her.

And that’s the end of Aarav and Meher’s story. 🤍

I know this story wasn’t perfect, but I truly tried to give Aarav and Meher the love they deserved. 🤍

Thank you for reading. ✨