The first rays of sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of the modest 2BHK apartment, casting a soft glow on the quiet morning. Krish, Aryaan, Kiara, and Charu slowly stirred from their sleep, each of them adjusting to the unfamiliar environment of their new home. It was a far cry from the luxury they were used to at the Poddar Mansion, but there was something liberating about waking up in a space that belonged to them, a place they had chosen.

Krish was the first to rise, stretching as he stepped onto the cool tiled floor. The small living room still had unpacked boxes scattered around, but it felt different now—more theirs. He walked to the kitchen, opened the window, and let in the fresh Mumbai air. There was a quiet buzz outside, the city slowly waking up, and it felt like a new chapter unfolding. Krish smiled to himself, embracing the serenity of the moment. This was the first morning in what would be a long journey, and he was ready.

In the other room, Aryaan lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. His mind raced with thoughts of his future—joining IIM Bombay, diving into the world of management, and building his career. He had spent so much of his life trying to live up to family expectations, but this felt different. Here, in Mumbai, he could carve out a path for himself. A soft knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. It was Kiara, standing with a sleepy smile.

"Good morning," she said softly, her voice filled with quiet excitement.

"Morning," Aryaan replied, sitting up. "How's it feel? First morning in the new place."

Kiara looked around, her eyes still adjusting to the light. "Different, but good," she said. "It’s strange, isn’t it? No one barging in, no Dadi sa giving orders… just us."

Aryaan nodded. "Yeah, it is. But maybe this is what we needed. A fresh start."

Kiara sat beside him, pulling her knees to her chest. "I agree. We get to make our own rules now. No one telling us how things should be."

In the other room, Charu was slowly getting out of bed, rubbing her eyes. She stepped out and saw Krish already in the kitchen, trying to figure out the new coffee maker. She smiled, watching him struggle for a second before walking over to help.

"Here, let me," she said, gently nudging him aside. "I’ve got this."

Krish chuckled. "Thanks. I was just about to throw it out the window."

As the coffee brewed, the apartment started to come alive with the smell of fresh brew and the sound of quiet laughter. The four of them gathered around the small dining table, sipping their coffee and enjoying the simplicity of the moment.

For a while, there was silence as they each took in the new normal. It wasn’t just the physical space that was different—it was the mindset. They were no longer part of the intricate web of family politics and expectations. Here, they were free to create their own future, their own success. They didn’t need to prove anything to anyone but themselves.

“I think we’re going to be okay,” Charu finally said, her voice soft but certain.

Krish nodded, glancing around at the group. “Yeah. We’re building something real here. It’s not inherited, it’s ours.”

Kiara looked out the window at the sprawling city below them, the noise of honking cars and distant chatter reminding her that they were in Mumbai now—this was their world. "And you know what? I kind of like it here. It’s not the Poddar Mansion, but it’s ours, and that’s what matters."

Aryaan smiled, raising his coffee cup. "To new beginnings. To us."

The others joined him, clinking their mugs together. It wasn’t just a toast—it was a promise to each other, to face the future with strength and unity. The first morning in Mumbai had brought with it a sense of peace, the calm before the challenges that awaited them. But for now, they were content to embrace this new chapter, ready to take on whatever came next.

They had left behind the chaos of the past, and in this small, modest apartment, they found a quiet joy in the new normal they were beginning to accept.

After finishing their coffee, the chorus gang collectively sighed, knowing what came next: the daunting task of unpacking. The apartment still had piles of boxes in each corner, reminding them that their new life was just beginning, and the next step was settling in. Krish stood up first, clapping his hands together.

"Alright, people, let's get to it. Time to unpack and make this place feel like home."

Charu groaned dramatically. "Do we have to? Can’t we just live out of boxes for a few more days?"

Krish chuckled. "We could, but then you’d never find your makeup, and we’d all have to suffer."

Charu narrowed her eyes at him, throwing a pillow his way. "Oh please, you’d be more upset about your gym clothes being missing!"

Kiara jumped in, giggling. "Alright, children, let’s get to work before this turns into an all-out war." She walked over to one of the boxes labeled "Photos & Décor," eager to start putting their personal touch on the apartment.

As soon as they started unpacking the photo frames, the bickering began. Charu held up a picture of the four of them from a family vacation to Chennai.

"This one should go right by the entrance," she said firmly.

Krish, looking unimpressed, shook his head. "No way. That picture is embarrassing. Look at my hair! It was a bad hair day for me, and we all know it."

Aryaan snickered. "And that’s why it must go by the entrance. We need some comic relief as soon as we walk in."

Charu rolled her eyes. "It’s a cute photo, and it’s going there whether you like it or not."

Krish grabbed the frame from her, holding it out of reach. "Not happening!"

Charu stood on her tiptoes, trying to snatch it back. "Krish! Give it back! You’re acting like a child."

Aryaan watched them, clearly amused. "You two are literally fighting over a photo. Classic."

Kiara joined in, laughing as she tried to mediate. "Okay, okay. How about we compromise? We put that picture in the hallway, and this one"—she held up another frame, a more recent picture from a cousin’s wedding—"by the entrance."

Charu, still trying to wrestle the photo from Krish, finally gave in. "Fine. But I want that one in the hallway and by the entrance!"

Krish groaned. "You can’t have it both ways!"

They all burst into laughter, realizing how ridiculous they sounded. These small squabbles over décor were nothing compared to what they had been through. The laughter quickly turned into playful shoving and banter as they continued unpacking, every little disagreement followed by more laughter and teasing.

As they worked, Charu found a framed picture of them as kids, all wearing matching outfits during a family function. She held it up, grinning.

"Look at this one! We were so little, and Aryaan’s bowtie is totally crooked."

Aryaan grabbed the frame from her, squinting at it. "Wow, that’s... something. How did we survive childhood with those outfits?"

Kiara giggled. "Mumma made sure we looked ‘presentable,’ even if that meant fashion disasters."

Krish leaned over, smirking. "We’ve come a long way from matching outfits and crooked bowties, haven’t we?"

Charu nodded, smiling fondly at the photo. "Yeah, we have. But some things never change. We’re still together, still arguing over the smallest things."

They kept unpacking, diving into old memories as they found more pictures, old keepsakes, and random objects from their childhood. The fights continued—over where to place the frames, how to organize the bookshelves, and whether the kitchen needed another plant or not.

As the chorus gang continued unpacking, Kiara suddenly stumbled upon a small, slightly worn-out photo album tucked away in one of the boxes. She flipped through the pages, smiling as familiar moments flashed before her eyes. But then, one particular photoframe caught her attention, and her smile softened into a wave of nostalgia.

"Guys," she called out softly, holding up the picture, "look at this."

Aryaan, Krish, and Charu came over to see what she had found. It was a photo from the kabaddi competition at Aryaan's College—a memory etched deep into their hearts.

The picture captured a hilarious yet precious moment: Armaan holding Abhira's pigtails playfully, a teasing grin on his face, while Abhira sulked dramatically, her lower lip jutting out. The chorus gang stood around them, each of them making funny faces—Aryaan pretending to yell at Armaan, Krish with a mock disapproving glare, and Charu rolling her eyes in exaggerated annoyance, while Kiara giggling at how cute abhira looked.

For a moment, no one spoke. They all stared at the picture, memories rushing back like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just the game or the competition; it was everything they had been through together—the laughter, the teasing, the bond they shared with Armaan and Abhira.

"I remember that day like it was yesterday," Aryaan murmured, his voice tinged with emotion. "We all thought Abhira Bhabhi was going to smack Armaan Bhaiya for pulling her pigtails like that."

Charu chuckled, though her voice wavered. "She was so mad at him, but you could see she loved every second of it. He always knew how to push her buttons just right."

Krish sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the picture. "They’re probably off fighting their own battles now... and here we are, missing them like crazy."

Kiara carefully wiped a speck of dust from the frame and held it closer to her chest for a moment, her eyes misting over. "They were a part of everything. No matter how tough things got, we always had Armaan and Abhira around. Now… it feels so strange without them here."

The room grew quiet, the weight of their absence settling over them. It wasn’t just the fun times they missed; it was their presence, the way Armaan and Abhira had grounded them, been their pillars of support, and made everything feel more like family.

"Hey," Kiara said, her voice brightening slightly as an idea sparked, "why don’t we put this picture in the center of the hall? Somewhere we can all see it from anywhere in the house."

Krish smiled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I think that’s a great idea."

Aryaan took the photo from Kiara, holding it up and admiring it one last time. "This way, they’ll always be with us, no matter what."

Charu stood up, pointing to the perfect spot on the wall in the living room. "Right there. So whenever we walk through this door, we’ll see them first thing."

With gentle care, Aryaan hung the picture in the center of the room, right above the couch. They all stepped back, admiring how it transformed the space. The apartment, which had started to feel like theirs, now felt complete, like a small piece of Armaan and Abhira had found its way into their new home.

"I’m telling you, Krish, we don’t need another succulent in here!" Charu argued, holding up yet another plant.

Krish waved her off. "You can never have too many plants. Besides, it’s good feng shui."

"Feng shui, my foot! You just want to turn the kitchen into a jungle," she shot back.

Aryaan and Kiara watched, shaking their heads. "This is going to go on forever, isn’t it?" Kiara sighed.

"Yup. With no second doubt." Aryaan replied with a grin.

Eventually, they all collapsed onto the couch, exhausted but satisfied with their progress. The apartment was starting to look like home—albeit with a few creative compromises and plenty of inside jokes scattered across the shelves.

Charu stretched out, grinning as she looked around. "Well, we did it. This place is starting to feel like ours."

Krish, still slightly out of breath from their earlier arguments, nodded. "Yeah. It’s feels so like pur own little world."

Aryaan raised a brow. "And honestly? I think I prefer it this way."

Kiara smiled, resting her head on Aryaan’s shoulder. "Me too. This is just the beginning, but I think we’re going to be okay."

As the sun began to set, the chorus gang sat together, feeling a sense of peace and accomplishment. They had bickered, laughed, and made the apartment their own, and for the first time in a long while, it felt like they were exactly where they were meant to be.

__________

The afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of Dev's cabin, casting a warm glow over the scattered files as Armaan and Dev sat hunched over a particularly tricky case. Papers lay strewn across the desk, and both of them were deep in concentration, analyzing the details, when suddenly Armaan’s phone buzzed on the table.

Without looking at the caller ID, too engrossed in the discussion, Armaan absentmindedly hit the speaker button.

"Alright, Dev, I think if we—" he began, but was interrupted by a loud, exaggerated voice that rang through the room.

"Khaaaadusmaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!"

Armaan's eyes went wide as he immediately recognized the voice. He closed his eyes, regretting his hasty decision of hitting speaker, while Dev burst into laughter, barely able to contain himself.

Before Armaan could react, the voice continued, unabashed. "Khadusmaan kahan ho tum? I'm bored, and also, I’m seriously missing you! Plus, I’m craving Tiwari ki dukan ki pyaaz kachori. When are you coming home?"

Armaan sighed dramatically, trying to hide his growing smile. "Abhira, do you realize I’m in a meeting?" he asked trying to sound angry but failing miserably, glancing sideways at Dev, who was now grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Meeting! It's just Dev Sir, right?" Abhira teased through the speaker. "I bet even he thinks you’re boring when you're all serious about these files."

Dev, still chuckling, leaned back in his chair and gave Armaan a teasing wave. "She’s not wrong, Khadus... I mean Armaan. You do get pretty intense," he said, winking.

Armaan rubbed his temples, clearly torn between playing along and trying to salvage some sense of professionalism. "I can’t just drop everything and run to fulfill your kachori cravings, Abhira," he replied, trying to sound stern but failing as his amusement crept into his tone.

Abhira, as if sensing his weakening resolve, chimed in, her voice sweet but with a mischievous edge. "Oh come on, Khadusmann, you know I’ve been such a good girl today! I even cleaned the nursery all by myself." She paused dramatically, then added, "And did I mention that I’m missing you soooo much?"

Armaan couldn’t help but smirk. "Oh, so it's not just about the kachoris?"

"Nope!" she said cheerfully. "The kachoris are a bonus. You’re the main dish."

Dev burst out laughing again, and Armaan shot him a half-hearted glare, though even he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. "You’re unbelievable, Abhira."

"And you’re unbelievable for making me wait this long," she quipped back.

Armaan leaned forward, lowering his voice playfully despite the speaker being on. "You know what today, I’m going to surprise you with how fast I get home."

"Oh? Is that a promise?" Abhira’s voice was full of playful challenge.

"Maybe. But only if you stop calling me 'Khadusmann' in front of my colleagues," he retorted, casting a glance at Dev, who was thoroughly enjoying the exchange.

Abhira giggled. "Fine, fine. But you still owe me pyaaz kachoris. I’ll be waiting, Khadusmann."

"Alright, alright. I’ll see you soon," Armaan said, finally relenting with a chuckle.

Before Abhira could respond, he quickly disconnected the call and let out a long sigh. Dev was leaning back, arms crossed, with an amused smirk.

"I see why you’re wrapped around her little finger," Dev teased, barely able to hide his grin. "The great Khadus Armaan taken down by kachoris and affection."

Armaan shook his head, laughing softly. "You have no idea."

Dev winked. "Oh, I think I do. And honestly? It's refreshing to see this side of you. I wouldn’t mind you being a bit more relaxed in these meetings."

Armaan raised an eyebrow. "Don’t get used to it."

The two of them shared a laugh before returning to their work, though the playful exchange had lightened the mood considerably. And as Armaan glanced at his phone, he couldn’t help but look forward to the moment he’d be home, indulging in Abhira’s antics and, of course, those kachoris.

Armaan left the office earlier than usual, much to the amusement of Dev and the other staff who had seen him leave in a rush, already knowing what—or rather who—was on his mind. As he drove towards Tiwari Mishtan Bhandar, a small smile played on his lips. Abhira’s cravings for kachoris had become something of a running joke between them, but deep down, he loved indulging her every whim. After all, she had been there for him through everything, and these little gestures were his way of showing her just how much she meant to him.

The familiar smell of freshly fried pyaaz kachoris filled the air as he stepped into the small shop, greeting the owner who instantly recognized him. After collecting the warm bag of kachoris and jalebies additionally Armaan quickly made his way home, eager to surprise her.

As he opened the door to their apartment, the sound of quiet filled the space. It was peaceful, and he immediately noticed the faint light coming from the nursery. His steps softened as he walked down the hallway, pushing open the nursery door.

There, in the soft glow of the setting sun, Abhira was curled up in the rocking chair, her feet propped up on the small table in front of her. She was wrapped snugly in Akshara Maa’s shawl, the same one she often turned to for comfort. Her breathing was steady, her face peaceful as she slept, cradling her growing baby bump with one hand.

Armaan stood at the doorway for a moment, his heart swelling with warmth at the sight. She looked so serene, so content. He placed the bag of kachoris quietly on the dresser and moved closer to her, crouching down beside the chair.

"Abhira," he whispered softly, but she didn’t stir. He smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face and adjusted the shawl properly around her shoulders. "I love you" he murmured, his fingers gently tracing the curve of her cheek.

Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment, simply soaking in the warmth of the moment. His eyes then drifted down to her belly, and he couldn’t help but feel that familiar rush of emotions every time he saw the slight roundness that carried their future.

"Hey, little one," he whispered, placing his hand gently on Abhira’s baby bump. "Papa's home."

He smiled, feeling an overwhelming sense of love wash over him. "I brought kachoris for your mumma. She’s been craving them all day. But between you and me," he whispered conspiratorially, "I think she's missing me more."

His hand rested on the bump as if waiting for a response, and after a few moments, he felt the faintest kick. His heart leaped, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "I knew it! You agree with me, don’t you?" he whispered, his eyes lighting up as he spoke to their baby. "You’re already on my side."

He leaned closer to Abhira’s belly, his lips brushing gently against the fabric covering her bump. "I promise you, little one," he whispered, "I’ll give you the best life, the happiest home. You’ll never want for anything, and you’ll always know just how much your mumma and I love you."

The baby kicked again, and Armaan chuckled, glancing back up at Abhira, still peacefully asleep. He kissed her belly one more time before sitting back on his heels, watching her as she slept, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

In that quiet moment, surrounded by the nursery they had lovingly prepared, Armaan felt every worry and stress melt away. This was his family, his future. And nothing, not even the complexities of the world outside, could take that away from him.

Abhira stirred awake, her body warm and cocooned in her Mumma's shawl. She blinked a few times, taking in the soft light of the nursery and the faint sounds of clinking coming from outside. Rubbing her eyes gently, she stretched her legs off the small table where they had rested and stood up, curiosity guiding her steps.

As she walked out of the nursery, the smell of her favourite kachoris reached her, and a smile tugged at her lips. Her feet led her to the kitchen, where she found Armaan standing by the stove, concentrating on something simmering in a pan. His broad back was to her, and he looked so completely absorbed in the task at hand that he didn’t notice her approach.

Abhira’s heart swelled as she watched him, the man who made every little moment of her life special. Without saying a word, she stepped forward and slipped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against the firm warmth of his back.

Armaan stiffened in surprise for a split second before relaxing into her touch. He let out a soft chuckle. "Well, hello there, sleepyhead," he said, his voice a low, affectionate rumble.

"Hello, Mr. Chef," she murmured, closing her eyes as she leaned against him, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. "What are you making?"

"Just reheating your precious kachoris and making some adhrak wali chai to go with it," he teased, turning the heat down on the stove. His hands found hers, resting over his stomach. "You could’ve just asked, you know. I would’ve woken you up."

"I didn’t want to wake up," she said, her voice muffled as she nuzzled deeper into his back. "It’s so peaceful like this."

Armaan turned in her embrace, tilting her chin up gently with one finger. His eyes softened as he looked down at her, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. "You look tired," he murmured, concern flashing in his gaze. "I told you I could handle things around here till Rama Aunty returns. You’re supposed to be resting, remember?"

She smiled up at him, her eyes filled with warmth. "I’m fine, really. Just a little nap was all I needed." She tightened her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. "Plus, I woke up to the smell of my favorite kachoris. How could I not be happy?"

Armaan chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You and your cravings," he teased, his hands sliding down to her waist, holding her close.

They stood like that for a while, swaying gently in each other’s embrace, savoring the moment of quiet intimacy. Eventually, Armaan pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands still resting on her hips. "Come on," he said with a grin. "Let’s get these kachoris before they get cold."

They moved to the small open space in their home, a cozy nook they had turned into a relaxing area with a swing, some fairy lights and a couch, and settled down with the plate of kachoris between them. The smell of fried dough and spiced onions filled the air, making Abhira’s mouth water.

"You really outdid yourself to bring me these, Khadusmann," Abhira said, picking up a kachori and sniffing it theatrically before taking a bite. "Mmm, perfect as always."

Armaan leaned back, folding his arms over his chest with a satisfied smirk. "My aim was to please you, Mrs. Khadusmann."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "You know, I still can’t believe how much you’ve spoiled me with these since the start of my pregnancy. I think I’ve had enough kachoris to last a lifetime."

"Impossible," Armaan teased. "There’s no such thing as too many kachoris."

Abhira grinned and held up a half-eaten kachori. "Well, then, since you’re the expert... why don’t you feed me?"

Armaan’s brow shot up, but the playful glint in his eyes betrayed his delight. "Feed you, huh?" He pretended to think it over for a moment before reaching out, plucking the kachori from her hand. "Well, if you insist."

With exaggerated care, he brought the kachori to her lips, his eyes twinkling as she took a bite. "Good?"

"Mhmm," she hummed, chewing happily, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You should feed me like this all the time. I could get used to it."

Armaan leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he brought another piece to her mouth. "I’m there at ur service always and forever, Mrs. Khadusmann," he said, his eyes locking with hers. "You don’t have to ask twice."

Abhira smiled, her heart fluttering at his words. She knew he meant every one of them, and in that small, tender moment, she felt an overwhelming sense of contentment wash over her. They were building a life together, one filled with love, laughter, and little moments like this.

As the evening light streamed through the windows, they continued their playful banter, enjoying the simplicity of each other’s company. With every bite, every glance, and every word shared between them, they found themselves falling deeper into the love they had built, one kachori at a time.

As the night drew to a close, the house fell into a gentle calm. After a hearty dinner, Abhira sat on the edge of their bed, her swollen feet resting on a small cushion. The day had been long, and the growing weight of her pregnancy was beginning to take a toll on her body.

Armaan entered the room, carrying a small bowl of warm oil in his hands. His face softened as he saw her, the weariness in her eyes unmistakable. "You should have told me earlier," he said gently, sitting down on the bed in front of her.

"You had a long day too," Abhira smiled, though the fatigue was evident in her voice.

"And my day isn’t complete until I take care of you," Armaan replied, his tone tender as he dipped his fingers into the warm oil. He carefully lifted her foot and placed it in his lap, his hands moving in slow, deliberate motions as he began to massage her swollen feet.

The warmth of the oil, combined with the gentle pressure from his hands, made Abhira let out a soft sigh of relief. Her eyes fluttered closed, leaning back on her hands as she let herself melt into the sensation. Armaan’s touch was full of love, each movement slow and purposeful, as if he wanted to ease every ounce of discomfort she felt.

“You’re spoiling me,” she murmured, though there was no protest in her voice.

Armaan chuckled softly. “You deserve it. Carrying our little one around all day... it’s the least I can do.” He looked up at her, his heart swelling with affection as he watched her relax under his care.

For a few moments, they sat in comfortable silence, the quiet intimacy of the moment wrapping around them like a warm blanket. Armaan shifted to her other foot, continuing the soothing massage, his thumbs working over the tired muscles with utmost care.

As his hands worked their magic, Abhira suddenly remembered something. "We have that doctor’s appointment tomorrow," she said, her voice still soft with relaxation. "Don't forget."

Armaan nodded, not breaking his rhythm. "I haven’t forgotten. We’ll go in the afternoon, right? Before that, we can go to the office for the first round of interviews."

"Yeah, we’ll need to be there for a while," Abhira agreed, her eyes opening slowly as she looked down at him. "And then we’ll make it to the appointment on time."

Armaan smiled, his eyes meeting hers as he continued his gentle ministrations. "Sounds like a plan. We’ll take care of everything."

Abhira’s heart swelled at his words, her love for him deepening with every gesture of care he offered. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "You’re going to be an amazing father, you know that?"

Armaan paused for a moment, his eyes locking with hers. "I’ll do my best," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "For you... and for our baby."

He finished massaging her feet, wiping them gently with a soft towel before standing up. He leaned in closer, his face just inches from hers, his eyes filled with warmth and love. "But first, I’ll always be here for you," he whispered, his lips brushing against her forehead.

Abhira tilted her face up, her eyes fluttering closed as Armaan pressed a tender kiss to her lips. It was soft and slow, a kiss that spoke of love, devotion, and promises of tomorrow. Her hand came up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as they shared the moment, their connection deepening with every second.

When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested together, a peaceful silence falling between them. "I love you," Armaan whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

"I love you more," Abhira replied, her heart full as she gazed into his eyes.

With one last gentle kiss to her forehead, Armaan helped her lie down on the bed, pulling the blanket over her. He joined her under the covers, wrapping his arms around her protectively as they settled into the quiet of the night.

In the comfort of each other's embrace, with their plans for tomorrow laid out and their hearts full of love, they slowly drifted off to sleep, ready to face whatever the next day would bring—together.

*..*..*..*..*..*..*

Rama Aunty from Love Beyond Boundaries makes a entry in the next chapter. Charu and Abhira to have a hit and miss kind of a meeting also.
Excited ??

As of this chapter do let me know how it was.

~TheLostSoul