Armaan had spent his entire life under the crushing weight of the Poddar name. For as long as he could remember, he had been striving to meet the towering expectations placed upon him by a family that had reluctantly accepted him.

The Poddars had never fully embraced him as their own, for he was not truly of their blood.

He had been a constant reminder of a choice made outside the family’s ironclad traditions, a living testament to the compromises they had been forced to make.

From a young age, Armaan understood that his place in the Poddar household was conditional.

The unspoken agreement was clear: he had to earn his keep, prove himself worthy every day, or risk being cast aside.

The fear of abandonment became a constant companion, shadowing his every step. He lived with the gnawing anxiety that a single misstep could lead to his downfall, that the tenuous acceptance he had managed to secure could be snatched away in an instant.

In his relentless pursuit to prove his worth, Armaan buried his true self beneath the veneer of a dutiful grandson, son, and brother.

He diligently followed every command, adhered to every rule, and tried to embody the ideals of what it meant to be a Poddar.

He excelled in academics, molded himself into a capable lawyer, and never questioned the authority of his elders.
Yet, no matter how hard he tried, there was always a subtle distance, an invisible barrier that kept him on the periphery of the family’s true affections.

The love the Poddars showed him often felt like a burden, a constant reminder of his outsider status. Their praise was always tinged with the implication that he should be grateful for what he had been given, that he owed them for the life he lived.

Their approval was a currency he could never quite afford, and their affection, when it came, was more a transaction than a gift. It was as if their acceptance was a loan that could be called in at any moment, leaving him with nothing.

Despite his efforts, Armaan always fell short in their eyes. There was always something missing, some ineffable quality that kept him from being truly one of them.

They never said it outright, but their words and actions made it clear: he was tolerated, not cherished. He was the outsider who had to prove his worth every day, while the others, the true Poddars, were loved unconditionally.

The strain of this constant striving wore him down, but he kept going, driven by the fear of losing the only family he had ever known.

And then, Abhira entered his life like a breath of fresh air in a stifling room. She was a force of nature, unafraid to challenge the Poddars when they wronged Armaan.

Where he had always bent to their will, she stood firm, refusing to let them diminish him. She saw through the facade he had built and reached out to the person he had buried deep within.

Abhira became his solace, his strength, the one person who loved him for who he was, not who he tried to be.

In Abhira’s presence, Armaan found a freedom he had never known. With her, he could simply be Armaan, not Armaan Poddar, not the dutiful grandson or the obedient son, but just himself.

She made him feel whole in a way the Poddars never had, her love unconditional and unwavering.

She saw his fears, his insecurities, and embraced them with a tenderness that melted the walls he had built around his heart.

Abhira’s love was a lifeline, pulling him out of the sea of expectations that had threatened to drown him. She set his soul free, allowing him to reclaim the parts of himself he had lost in his quest to be a perfect Poddar.

With her by his side, he began to understand that he didn’t need to earn love; he deserved it simply because he was himself.

In the quiet moments they shared, away from the judgmental eyes of the family, Armaan found peace. He learned to let go of the fear that had ruled him for so long, to trust in the love they shared.

Abhira became his refuge, the one place where he could be vulnerable, where he could shed the armor he wore every day.

And as Armaan looked at the life they were building together, he knew that with Abhira by his side, he could finally be free.

Free from the chains of expectation, free from the fear of rejection, free to live as he truly was—Armaan, not just a Poddar.

Armaan and Abhira had left everything behind four years ago, choosing to follow their dreams rather than conform to the expectations of their families.

They moved to Mumbai three years back, a city full of opportunities but also one that tested them at every turn. Life was tough—money was tight, and they often found themselves struggling to make ends meet. Yet, through it all, they had each other, and that was enough to keep them going.

Both were law graduates, determined to carve out a place for themselves in the legal world. They joined prestigious law firms, working long hours and taking on challenging cases that demanded every ounce of their energy.

There were times when exhaustion and doubt crept in, but they refused to give up. Slowly, their efforts began to pay off. Their reputation grew, and so did their confidence.

After years of relentless work, they had finally saved enough to start their own law firm. It was a dream they had nurtured since they first set foot in Mumbai. The firm was a testament to their hard work, and they poured their hearts into it, determined to make it a success.

Armaan and Abhira had come a long way from the struggling couple who had left their families behind. They had built a life together, one filled with challenges but also immense love and resilience. Now, they were ready to embrace the next chapter, one that promised not just professional success, but the deep, fulfilling joy of family for their bundle of joy was soon going to join their life.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of their cozy Mumbai apartment, casting a warm glow over the kitchen.

Armaan was busy at the stove, humming softly as he set the plate for breakfast. The aroma of fresh parathas filled the air, mixed with the sweet scent of ripe mangoes and the unmistakable whiff of… boiled spinach.

Abhira, still in her pajamas, was rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her face lit up when she saw the spread on the table.

“Mmm, parathas and mangoes! You’re really spoiling me today,” she said as she shifted in her chair at the dining table, trying to find a comfortable position.

Her hand instinctively moved to her belly, where the baby had been kicking energetically for the past few minutes. She took a deep breath, but the discomfort was evident on her face.

Armaan watched her from across the table, immediately noticed her struggle. Without a word, he quickly fetched a small stool from the corner of the room.

“Abhira, here, rest your feet on this,” he said softly, placing the stool under the table and gently guiding her feet onto it.

“Thankyou, Armaan,” Abhira murmured, a grateful smile tugging at her lips.

The relief was immediate as she adjusted herself on the chair, her feet now supported.

“The baby has been really active today.” armaan said as he knelt beside her, his eyes full of tenderness as he placed a hand on her belly, feeling the tiny kicks under his palm. “Our little one is already full of energy,” he chuckled softly.

He leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her belly. Then, with his lips still against her skin, he whispered, “Papa loves you, baby.”

Abhira’s eyes welled up with tears at the sight of Armaan’s affection. She reached out, running her fingers through his hair as she whispered, “We’re so lucky to have you.”

Armaan looked up at her, his eyes glistening with emotion. “No, I’m the lucky one,” he said, his voice thick with love. “You and this baby… you’re everything to me.”

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in the warmth of each other's love, feeling more connected than ever before but then her eyes landed on the bowl of spinach, and she wrinkled her nose. “Why spinach, Armaan? You know I can’t stand it.”

Armaan grinned as he sat down next to her. “Doctor’s orders, sweetheart. You need your greens, and I’m not taking any chances with you or the baby.”

Abhira sighed, reaching for a paratha. “You’re enjoying this way too much, aren’t you? Bossing me around.”

Armaan laughed, pouring her a glass of milk and sliding it across the table. “It’s not about bossing you around, it’s about making sure our baby gets all the nutrients they need. And speaking of which…” He raised an eyebrow, nodding at the glass.

Abhira groaned, pushing it away with a pout. “Armaan, I can’t drink another glass of milk. I’ll turn into a cow at this rate!”

“Come on, you know you have to. And besides, you’re not turning into anything. You’re glowing,” he said, leaning in to peck her on the cheek.

She huffed but took the glass anyway, sipping it slowly. “I’m only doing this because I love you.”

“And the baby will love me more for making you drink it,” Armaan teased, grabbing a paratha for himself.

Abhira shot him a playful glare. “Oh, is that how it’s going to be? You think you’re going to be the favorite?”

“Of course,” Armaan said with a mock-serious expression. “I’m the one making sure you eat all this healthy food, after all. The baby will know who the real hero is.”

Abhira chuckled, shaking her head. “You wish. I’m the one carrying this baby, dealing with all the nausea, the cravings, the backaches. Trust me, he will be mama’s little one.”

Armaan leaned back in his chair, smirking. “We’ll see about that. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve to win her over.”

“Oh really? Like what?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Let’s just say, I’m very good at bedtime stories. And I make a mean chocolate milkshake.”

Abhira laughed, finishing her milk with a resigned smile. “Okay, you might have a shot with the milkshake. But we both know this baby is going to be spoiled rotten by both of us.”

Armaan reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “As long as u and the baby are happy and healthy, that’s all that matters.”

“Agreed,” Abhira said softly, squeezing his hand. “But just so you know, I’m still not eating that spinach.”

Armaan laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that too.”

Abhira pushed the bowl of spinach further away, making a face. “Armaan, I’m serious. That stuff tastes like grass. Why don’t you eat it instead?”

Armaan chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for the bowl. “Nice try, but this is for you. I’ll eat my share, don’t worry. But you’ve got to have some, too.”

She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “Nope. I’ll take extra parathas, maybe even more mangoes, but I’m not touching that spinach.”

Armaan grinned mischievously. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice.” He speared a forkful of spinach and held it out to her. “Come on, just a bite. For the baby.”

Abhira narrowed her eyes at him, trying to keep her resolve. “You’re really pushing your luck, mister.”

He wiggled the fork closer to her mouth, his eyes twinkling. “One bite. I’ll even chase it with a piece of mango. How about that?”

She sighed, knowing she was about to lose this battle. “Fine. But if this baby ends up hating spinach as much as I do, it’s on you.”

Armaan laughed, guiding the fork to her lips. “Deal. Now open up.”

With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Abhira reluctantly opened her mouth and let him feed her the spinach. She chewed slowly, making exaggerated faces of disgust as Armaan watched with a smirk.

“You’re such a drama queen,” he teased, holding up a piece of mango as promised.

She quickly took the mango and smiled as the sweet taste washed away the bitterness of the spinach. “Okay, that helps. But I’m still not forgiving you for this.”

Armaan leaned over the table, wiping a bit of mango juice from the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “You’ll thank me later when our baby comes out strong and healthy.”

Abhira softened, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of love and gratitude. “I know you’re just taking care of us. But next time, maybe a little less spinach?”

Armaan chuckled, leaning in to kiss her gently on the forehead. “Deal. But you still have to finish this bowl.”

Abhira groaned playfully, but her smile gave her away. “Fine, but only because you’re feeding me. And don’t think this means you’ve won. The baby’s still going to love me more.”

Armaan fed her another forkful of spinach, grinning as she swallowed it with a resigned sigh. “We’ll see about that, Mrs. Armaan. But for now, I think we both win.”

They continued their light-hearted banter, Armaan patiently feeding Abhira the rest of the spinach while sneaking in bites of mango to make it more bearable.

Despite the teasing, there was a sense of contentment between them—a shared understanding that they were in this together, and that their little family was already full of love.

In the cracks of our hearts, we found a place, 
Two flawed souls, meeting in a tender embrace. 
Like puzzle pieces, jagged yet snug, 
Our edges aligned, our souls gently tug. 
Imperfect we stand, yet perfectly whole, 
You are the missing piece that completed my soul. 
In our shared flaws, we quietly thrive, 
Two broken halves, together alive.

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

Chapter 1 Done ✔️

So I wrote this little piece of life Armaan and Abhira built away from that hell called Poddar house.

This story is set 4 years after they left Poddar house and I would dwell in everything that has happened in these 4 years.

Poddars would be getting their piece of shit for treating Armaan and Abhira like that for they deserve it.

The next chapter would start from the present but will move to the falshback of 4 years ago and post that a few chapters would be dealing with the past only.

Also I would want to know if the writing style helps u connect with the character's and the story or like I should may be switch to writing in mix of Hindi and English.

Also guys I am a college going student, I can't promise frequent updates but yes atleast longer updates 2 or 3 times a month is what I can assure u.

Constructive Criticism is Welcomed.

Do vote and Comment
~TheLostSoul