The first rays of the morning sun filtered through the whiite and brown curtains, casting a soft golden light across the room. Armaan blinked awake, feeling the warmth of Abhira snuggled beside him. Her back pressed to his front while their hands intervened, resting protectively on her small baby bump. He smiled, his heart swelling with love as he glanced at her peaceful face, still lost in the serenity of sleep.

He carefully moved, trying not to wake her, and sat up slowly. His eyes immediately fell on Abhira's belly. He reached out, resting his palm gently on it, trying to feel the subtle movements beneath his touch. A soft smile tugged at his lips, and he whispered, "Good morning, little one."

For a moment, he just sat there, mesmerized by the quiet connection between him and the baby. He leaned down slightly, pressing a soft kiss to Abhira's belly, his lips barely brushing her skin. "Papa's here," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "I'm going to be with you every step of the way."

As if in response, a gentle fluter against his hand. Armaan's eyes widened in surprise, and his heart fluttered. He chuckled quietly, not wanting to wake Abhira, who still slept soundly beside him. "You're already strong, huh?" he whispered, his hand caressing the spot where he had felt the baby move. "Just like your mumma."

He stayed like that for a few moments, letting the connection between him and his unborn child fill the room. It was as if time had slowed down, and the only thing that mattered was this precious, tiny life growing inside Abhira. Armaan couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with love.

But as he sat there, a wave of memories washed over him, taking him back to a time when everything wasn't so peaceful...

~Flashback~
||1 year Ago, Morning after the Sangeet||

The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft golden hue over the room. Abhira stirred from her sleep, her eyes still heavy from the tears she had cried the night before.

As she blinked, the first thing she saw was Armaan, lying next to her, his face peaceful in slumber, yet etched with traces of the turmoil he had gone through. His arm was still loosely draped over her, as if he had fallen asleep while keeping her close, protecting her from the world.

She reached out hesitantly, her fingers grazing his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her touch. He looked so serene, so unlike the Armaan who had faced the storm last night, standing up against his family with a fierceness she had never seen before. Her heart twisted painfully, remembering the way he had shielded her from the insults, covering her ears, holding her as if he could block out the world.

But beneath that strength, she had seen something else-something fragile. In the quiet moments, when his words of comfort faltered, she had glimpsed the heartbreak he was trying to hide. She had heard it in his voice, in the tremble of his hands as he held her. The dream he had nurtured, the dream of a family-she had watched it shatter in front of him, even though he refused to let her see.

Abhira closed her eyes, her mind replaying the cruel words spoken last night, every insult striking her heart like a fresh wound. Dadi sa's cold judgment, Vidya's harsh truths, Ruhi's relentless accusations-they echoed in her mind, each word dragging her deeper into a well of guilt and sorrow.

"A burden."
"Not fit to be his wife."
"She'll never give him what he truly wants."

She squeezed her eyes tighter, the memories too painful to bear. But more than the words of others, it was her own internal torment that cut the deepest. She remembered every time Armaan had spoken about his dream of having a family. His eyes would light up whenever they talked about their future, imagining children, a home filled with love and laughter. And now, because of her, that dream had turned into something unreachable.

Even as he held her last night, telling her that she was enough, she could feel his pain, the way he tried to push aside his own sorrow to be strong for her. He had always been that way, sacrificing his own happiness for hers, standing by her side no matter the cost. He had gone against his family, against the world, just for their love. And now, she was robbing him of the one thing he had always wanted.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at Armaan, still sleeping, his breath soft and even. How could she do this to him? How could she keep him from the happiness he deserved? He might not say it, might even believe he didn't care right now, but one day, he would regret it. One day, the absence of children, the absence of the family he had always dreamed of, would haunt him.

Abhira made up her mind.

Quietly, so as not to wake him, she slipped out of the bed. The cool floor beneath her feet felt grounding, anchoring her to the difficult decision she had made. She couldn't stay. She couldn't be the reason for Armaan's unfulfilled dreams, for his eventual heartache. He had already given up so much for her; she wouldn't let him sacrifice this too.

Her hands trembled as she pulled out a suitcase from the closet, silently packing the essentials. Every item she folded into the suitcase felt like another piece of her heart breaking, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. She had to do this. For him.

When she was done, she zipped the suitcase shut and turned back to the bed where Armaan still slept. For a long moment, she just stood there, watching him, memorizing every detail of his face-the gentle curve of his lips, the way his hair fell over his forehead, the peaceful rise and fall of his chest.

Tears blurred her vision, her hand trembling as she reached out to stroke his hair. Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, her lips lingering as if she could imprint this moment into her soul.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I'm so sorry, Armaan but you deserve so much better than me."

Her breath hitched, and she pulled away, wiping at the tears that wouldn't stop falling. She turned, taking one last look at him before she grabbed her suitcase and walked toward the door. Every step felt like it took all the strength she had left.

At the doorway, she paused, glancing back one final time. Her heart ached with a deep, soul-crushing sorrow, but she forced herself to turn away. She couldn't look back anymore. She couldn't let herself fall apart, not now.

With a deep breath, she stepped out of the room, out of the house, and out of Armaan's life, leaving behind the only love she had ever known in the hopes that one day, he could find the happiness he truly deserved.

Armaan stirred, feeling the cool sheets beside him, instinctively reaching out for the warmth that had always been there-Abhira. But his hand met emptiness. His brow furrowed, eyes still heavy with sleep, and he reached out again, fingers brushing across the cold fabric where she had once been.

His heart stilled for a moment. He sat up abruptly, his chest tightening as his eyes scanned the room, searching for her.

"Abhira?" His voice cracked from the dryness of the night, but there was no response. Only the faint echo of his own voice reverberated in the stillness of the room.

Panic began to seep into his veins. A knot formed in his stomach.

"Abhira!" He called louder this time, throwing the sheets off himself as he swung his legs off the bed. The eerie silence in the room felt suffocating, as if the walls themselves were pressing in on him, swallowing the air.

And then he saw it-the closet door left slightly ajar, the hangers that once held her clothes now bare. The reality hit him like a punch to the gut. She had left.

"No," Armaan whispered, his voice breaking, his chest tightening painfully his mind raced, replaying the events of the previous night-the insults, the accusations, the venomous words hurled at her by his family.

He had tried to protect her, to shield her from the cruelty, but had it not been enough?

He staggered back to the bed, collapsing onto the mattress as the weight of her absence crushed him. His hands gripped the sheets where she had slept, where her warmth still lingered faintly, and he buried his face into them, his throat tight with the urge to scream.

She was strong she could not leave him, he got up rushed to the mansion with hope to find her there. To scold her for leaving him along in the outhouse.

Armaan ran too the gate of Poddar mansion, his heart racing with a desperation that grew with every step. He frantically called out Abhira's name, hoping, praying, that someone had seen her.

"Abhira! Has anyone seen Abhira?" His voice echoed through the halls, panic threading every word.

Chorus gang shook their head nervously. "No Bhaiya, we haven't seen bhabhi since last night." Krish informed him.

His eyes stung with unshed tears, but his frustration overpowered the sadness. He felt helpless, defeated. "Abhira!" He shouted her name once more, but the only response was the wind, carrying his words away into the silence.

His heart pounded with anger and confusion, his thoughts spiraling. How could she just leave? Why didn't she trust him enough to stay, to fight this together?

As he entered his room, the floodgates opened. Rage surged through him like a wildfire, uncontrollable, consuming. He slammed the door shut behind him, locking it with trembling hands. His breath came out in harsh gasps, the silence of the room amplifying the storm inside him.

Without thinking, he grabbed the nearest thing-a vase-and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, pieces scattering like the fragments of his heart. Next, a picture frame followed, the glass breaking into a thousand pieces. He didn't care. He didn't care about the mess, didn't care about the destruction. All he could feel was the anger-at her for leaving him, at his family for pushing her to this point, and at himself for not being able to stop it.

His fists clenched and unclenched as he stalked through the room, knocking over anything in his path. The sound of breaking glass, the thud of wood crashing to the floor-it did nothing to ease the torment inside him. His chest heaved as the rage began to eat him alive. His mind was a whirlwind of images-Abhira, her tear-streaked face, the words his family had thrown at her like poison, the hopelessness in her eyes.

He wanted to scream, to yell at the world for being so cruel to the woman he loved. But instead, he picked up her dupatta from the bed-the same dupatta she had worn at their Sangeet. He stared at it for a moment, his breath hitching as the familiar scent of her perfume filled his senses.

It was like a punch to the gut.

Slowly, his knees buckled, and he sank to the floor, clutching the dupatta tightly to his chest. His body trembled as he hugged it close, his knuckles white from the grip. The smell of her was still there, still lingering as if she hadn't truly left. But she had. And the pain of that realization broke something deep inside him.

A sob escaped his throat, raw and painful. His whole body shook as he clung to her dupatta like it was the last piece of her he had left. The world around him faded away, his thoughts consumed by her absence, by the empty space she had left behind. The anger drained from him, leaving only the unbearable weight of loss. His tears fell freely now, mixing with the shards of glass on the floor.

Outside, he could hear his family banging on the door, their voices pleading with him to open up.

"Armaan! Please open the door!" Vidya's voice was filled with concern, but it only fueled the hollow ache in his chest.

"Armaan, listen to us!" Dadi sa's voice followed, more stern than pleading, but it didn't matter. None of them mattered. Not now.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his head falling against the bed as he continued to hold Abhira's dupatta like it was his lifeline. His body was exhausted, his mind numb, and the only thing anchoring him was the faint scent of her on the fabric. Every time he inhaled, it reminded him of the life they were supposed to have together-the life that was now slipping through his fingers like sand.

The banging on the door grew louder, the voices more desperate, but Armaan didn't move. He couldn't. He had nothing left to give, no words left to say. All he had was the broken pieces of his heart and the overwhelming need to find her, to bring her back.

But for now, all he could do was hold onto what remained of her-the dupatta that still smelled like home, like love.

The voices outside faded into the background as Armaan curled into himself, tears still streaming down his face, his heart heavy with the weight of his loss. He was broken, and the only person who could fix him had just walked out of his life.

The next morning, the house was eerily quiet. The usual hum of life that filled the Poddar mansion had been replaced by a silence that felt suffocating.

Chorus gang had gathered outside Armaan's door again, waiting, hoping that he would finally open up.

They banged the door. After a few minutes the door clicked, and slowly, it swung open.

Armaan stepped out, but the man who emerged wasn't the same one who had been locked inside the room the night before. His hair was disheveled, his eyes hollow and bloodshot from sleeplessness, and his face bore the lines of deep emotional torment. The light that once danced in his eyes-the light of love, of life, of hope-was gone, replaced by an empty, distant gaze.

He walked past his family without a word. No one dared to speak; they simply watched in stunned silence. His movements were mechanical, as if the weight of the world had dulled his every step. The Armaan they knew-the vibrant, joyful man who could light up a room-was gone. In his place was a shell, a man hollowed out by heartbreak.

As Armaan descended the stairs, Dadi sa tried to speak. "Armaan, beta..."

But he didn't even glance her way. He walked past her as if she wasn't even there. Vidya, Sanjay, and Ruhi stood awkwardly, avoiding eye contact, unsure how to handle the new Armaan. They had expected a confrontation, perhaps more outbursts or tears, but not this. This cold, silent man was unfamiliar to them, and it made them uneasy.

Manisha stepped forward, her hand reaching for his arm. "Armaan, please-"

He passed her a soft look and then brushed past her too, not even slowing down. He walked straight out of the front door, disappearing into the morning mist, leaving behind a family who no longer recognized him.

Like this One month had passed, but the changes in the Poddar mansion were more pronounced than anyone could have anticipated.

Armaan was no longer the life of the house. He spent most of his days away from the mansion, often returning late at night, if at all. His presence in the house had become a ghostly one-silent, cold, withdrawn. He avoided family gatherings, didn't engage in conversations, and seemed to live in a world of his own. The vibrant man who had once fought fiercely for Abhira had vanished, replaced by a man consumed by emptiness.

In the mornings, the family would sometimes see him sitting alone in the garden, staring off into the distance, lost in thought. His work at the firm was robotic; he handled cases and meetings with the same level of detachment, as if nothing truly mattered anymore. Even the firm's employees noticed the change-Armaan had become ruthless, methodical, emotionless in his dealings. The warmth and charisma that had made him a beloved figure were gone.

The Fmailly had expected the storm to blow over, for Armaan to come to terms with the situation. But they hadn't anticipated that their words and actions would destroy him. The guilt weighed heavily on them, especially Dadi sa. She could still see the raw pain in Armaan's eyes whenever she tried to speak to him, and though he never said a word, she knew she was part of the reason for his transformation.

Vidya had tried to talk to Armaan a few times, to apologize, to explain. But each time, he looked right through her, his silence more cutting than any words he could have spoken. Ruhi too had tried to make amends, but Armaan's cold demeanor had silenced her attempts.

Manisha and Krish were the only ones who dared to speak to him, but even their efforts were met with minimal response. Armaan had built walls so high and so thick that no one could reach him, not even the people who cared for him most.

But even in his silence, even in his distance, Armaan was waiting. Waiting for the day Abhira would come back. Every time he walked through the door of the mansion, he would pause for a second, his heart foolishly hoping to see her there, waiting for him.

In the two months that followed Abhira's departure, Armaan had thrown himself entirely into his work. He took on cases with a relentless determination, immersing himself so completely that he rarely slept. The firm had never seen him like this-taking on the most challenging cases, often traveling out of Udaipur for weeks at a time.

His days blurred into a cycle of courtrooms, meetings, and paperwork, while his nights were filled with the cold silence of empty hotel rooms. He would return home to the Poddar mansion only for a day or two in a month, barely speaking to anyone. His family had grown used to his absence, knowing that nothing they said would break the barrier he had built around himself.

This pattern started the day after Abhira's departureannd has continued since then, with Armaan burying himself deeper and deeper in his cases, distancing himself further from the life he had once dreamed of. Udaipur, once his home, felt foreign to him now. The mansion was just a place to sleep, and his family, though still there, were mere shadows in his peripheral vision.

And then one day, while working on a high-profile case in Mumbai, something changed. Armaan was in a bustling courtroom, the noise of lawyers shuffling papers and clients murmuring filling the air. He had just finished a meeting with his legal team and was preparing for another grueling day of hearings. He moved with his usual detached efficiency, mind laser-focused on the case ahead.

But as he exited the courthouse, something made him stop.

Across the street, in a small café, a familiar figure caught his eye. For a moment, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He blinked, frozen in place as people bustled around him. His heart raced in his chest, and the air around him seemed to slow.

It was her.

His Abhira.

After a full 2 months he was seeing her.

She was sitting by the window, her face partially obscured by the steam from her cup of tea. But he knew it was her. He would recognize her anywhere. Her soft brown hair, the delicate curve of her face, the way her fingers absentmindedly played with the edge of her scarf. She looked the same, yet different. There was a quiet sadness in her eyes, a kind of stillness that hadn't been there before.

For two months, he had pushed himself to the brink, hoping the work would dull the pain of losing her. But in this single moment, all the walls he had built around his heart crumbled. The sight of her hit him with a force he wasn't prepared for, all the grief, the love, and the unanswered questions flooding back in a rush.

Armaan stood there, unable to move, his eyes fixed on her as if he were afraid she would disappear if he blinked. The world around him ceased to exist. It was just him and Abhira, separated by a street, yet by a distance that felt infinitely larger.

His mind raced. Should he approach her? What would he say? Would she even want to see him?

But even as these questions swirled, Armaan knew he couldn't walk away. Not this time.

His feet moved before his mind could catch up, crossing the street toward her. His heart pounded in his chest, a mix of fear and hope swirling in his gut. The moment he had dreamed of for two long months was finally here, but it terrified him just as much as it gave him hope.

As he neared the café, he could feel his pulse quicken, his palms sweating. His mind was overwhelmed with memories-of the day she left, the words she whispered before she disappeared, the emptiness that had consumed him since. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, or even if he could form the words.

But as he stood just outside the café, his breath hitched.

Abhira's eyes flickered up from her cup, and for the first time in two months, their gazes met.

The air was thick with tension as Armaan stood outside the door of Abhira's small apartment. After their encounter at the café, she had left without saying a word, but he had followed her, his heart unwilling to let her slip away again. Now, standing at her door, the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between them hung heavily over him.

He knocked, his fist trembling slightly as it hit the wood. For a few moments, there was only silence, and then the door creaked open. Abhira stood there, her eyes wide in surprise, as if she hadn't expected him to follow her. She didn't say anything-neither did he. They just stood there, the distance between them filled with all the pain, the love, and the confusion of the last two months.

Finally, Armaan spoke, his voice low but firm. "You left me."

Abhira flinched at his words, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I had to, Armaan," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I couldn't stay."

Armaan stepped inside, closing the door behind him. His heart ached as he looked at her. She looked so small, so fragile, standing in the middle of the room as if she didn't belong there. He took a deep breath, trying to control the storm of emotions inside him. "You left me without a word. You didn't even give me a chance to fight for us."

Her eyes flickered up to meet his, filled with pain. "Fight for what, Armaan? A life where your family despises me? Where I'm constantly reminded of everything I can't give you?"

"I don't care about that!" Armaan's voice rose, his frustration bubbling over. "I care about you! I care about us. I needed you, Abhira. I needed you with me, not...not running away!"

Abhira's tears finally spilled over as she took a step back, shaking her head. "I couldn't, Armaan. I couldn't watch you sacrifice everything for me. Your family-your dreams-you deserve so much more than what I can give you."

"More?" Armaan's voice cracked with emotion. "Abhira, don't you get it? I don't want more. I want you. Just you."

Abhira's heart clenched at his words, but the pain of her decision still lingered. She turned away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as if to shield herself from the weight of it all. "Your family would never have accepted me, Armaan. Every day would have been a battle, and I...I didn't have the strength to keep fighting. Not when I knew that one day, you might look at me and see what they see. A burden. Someone who can't give you the family you've always dreamed of."

Armaan's chest tightened as he heard her say those words. He crossed the room in two quick strides, his hands reaching for her shoulders, gently turning her to face him. "Don't you ever say that," he said fiercely, his voice breaking. "Don't you dare think that you are a burden. You're everything to me, Abhira. Everything. I don't care about children or what my family says. They don't get to decide my happiness. Only you do."

Abhira shook her head, her tears flowing freely now. "I couldn't stay and watch you grow resentful of me. I couldn't bear it, Armaan. You said you wanted a family, and I-"

Armaan cut her off, pulling her closer, his arms wrapping around her trembling body. "I wanted a family with you Abhira, not without you in it. You're enough for me, Abhira. You're all I need."

She buried her face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably as the weight of her fears, her doubts, everything she had carried for months, finally broke free.

Armaan held her tighter, resting his chin on her head as his own tears fell. "You think I would ever stop loving you? That I would leave you because of this?" He kissed the top of her head, his voice thick with emotion. "You're my heart, Abhira. Don't ever think that you're not enough."

They stood there for what felt like hours, wrapped in each other's arms, as the pain and the heartache that had kept them apart began to slowly melt away. Abhira's sobs eventually quieted, but her grip on him didn't loosen. She held him as if she was afraid to let go, afraid that if she did, this moment would disappear.

Finally, she pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "I thought...I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving."

Armaan shook his head, cupping her face gently in his hands. "The right thing would have been staying. With me. Because I love you, Abhira. I love you more than anything else in this world, and nothing-nothing-is going to change that."

Abhira's lip quivered as she let out a soft sob, leaning into his touch. "I love you more, Armaan. I never stopped loving you."

Armaan's heart swelled at her words, and before either of them could say anything more, he bent down and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her with all the love, the pain, and the longing that had built up between them. It wasn't a kiss of desperation-it was a kiss of healing, of two broken souls finding their way back to each other.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Armaan rested his forehead against hers, his thumb brushing away the last of her tears. "Promise me," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Promise me you won't run again."

Abhira nodded, her fingers gripping his shirt as if anchoring herself to him. "I promise," she whispered back, her voice raw with emotion. "I won't run. Not anymore."

Armaan kissed her again, softer this time, a promise sealed between them. And in that moment, they both knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. For their love, bruised and battered, was still strong. Strong enough to withstand anything.

~Flashback Ends~

Armaan blinked, snapping back to the present. His heart full as he remembered the day they met again and the life they built since then. He looked down at Abhira, still sleeping beside him, her face now serene and content. The memory of losing her back then felt like a distant nightmare, a void in heart that was filling slowly.

He touched her bump again, this time with more conviction. "I'm not going to let anything come between us again," he whispered to the baby. "You, your mummma, and I... we're a family. And I'll protect you both with everything I have."

Abhira stirred beside him, her eyes fluttering open. She smiled sleepily as she saw him, tugging at his arm asking for a hug. "Morning," she whispered in his ear, her voice soft and full of love.

Armaan smiledand kissed her forehead gently. "Morning, love," he replied, his heart full of gratitude that despite everything, they had found their way back to each other.

Abhira's hand moved to cover his on her belly, her smile widening. "So papa and baby talking early in the morning, that to without mumma."

Armaan chuckled softly, nodding. "Yeah, the baby was telling me how strong their muumma is."

Abhira laughed quietly, her eyes shining with happiness. "Well, they have a strong father too."

In this moment, the past didn't matter. All that mattered was this-him, her, and the little life growing between them. They were together, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt right again.

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

At this stage the story seems so difficult to finish in just 3 shots 🥹😌.
Pls don't mind me extending it if at all the next part cannot accommodate things I have planned.

Do u want a Poddar family and abhimaan Dum ta na na interaction with ofc abhimaan and chotu baby poddar together being the end game ????

I hope some doubts u had in the past chapters are cleared, the remaining would be cleared in the next part.

~TheLostSoul