Abhiraj's Pov

I'm in a middle of a discussion with Neil, my secretary, about a business agreement. My eyes skim through the file on my desk, absorbing every detail, while I keep the phone pressed to my ear.

"Yes, Neil, we need to make sure the contract lays a minimum delivery period of six months," I say, making a note in the notepad. "And see if we can negotiate a better rate on—"

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a glimpse of movement. I glance up briefly but dismiss it, focusing back on the file. My focus is split between the phone conversation and the figures in front of me.

"Right, and also—"

I feel a slight tug at my sleeve. I look away from the file to see Ivaan standing there, his big emerald eyes looking up at me hesitantly. He's holding a small notebook and a pencil. I didn't even hear him enter.

"Neil, hold on a sec," I say into the phone, not taking my eyes off Ivaan. "I'll call you right back."

I set the phone down and place the file aside, turning my full attention to the little boy. I make him sit on the couch beside me, my gaze softening.

"Hey, buddy," I say gently. "What happened? Do you need something?" The kid has become more sensitive over the past week.

He shifts on his feet, looking a little nervous. "Mr.Big, I'm getting stuck with my homework." He mumbles.

"Mumma is not here to help me." He says, blushing a little.

I smile, feeling a tinge of guilt for being so wrapped up in work.

"Alright, bud. Why don't you bring your books here? We can work on it together."

His face brightens up with relief. "Okay."

"Go get your things."

As he walks out of the room, I pick up the phone again, already planning to wrap up this call as quickly as possible.

"Neil, let's finish this up quickly. Rest we'll continue later."

Neil understands, and we speed through the remaining points. I jot down the final notes and close the file with a sense of urgency.

"Alright, Neil. I'll review the revised terms tonight. You did a good job with the drafting ," I say, already mentally shifting gears. "Talk soon."

I hang up the phone just as Ivaan comes back, struggling slightly under the weight of his backpack. He dumps it on the bed and starts pulling out books and papers.

I move over to the bed, sitting down beside him. "Alright, let's see what we have here," I say, checking the textbook he hands out to me. "What are you stuck on?"

He opens to a page about the Indus Valley Civilization and points to a question. "This one. I don't understand."

I read the question aloud: " Main   features of the urban planning in the Indus Valley Civilization."

"Bud you sure this is your homework," I state, stunned seeing the topic.

" Yeah. Why?"

"This does not look like a first grade homework?"

He shakes his head. "No. It's sixth grade."

"Oh. Given by your tutor."

"I already completed my school homework. This one I'm not able to understand."

"No worries, we'll make you understand. Do you know what is urban planning and civilization?"

It completely slipped my mind that this kid is a genius. Thanks to his sweet innocence.

"No."

"Urban planning is how a city is designed and organized. And civilization is basically a society which has developed a writing system, government, production of agricultural products and many more advanced things in their time." He nods.

"Now, the Indus Valley Civilization, which existed around 2500 BCE, is known for its advanced urban planning. Forget the dates right now, I'll explain the dates separately."

I flip through the textbook to a section that highlights these points. "This civilization had two major cities Harappa and Mohenjo Daro. They were built in a grid pattern. That means the streets were laid out in straight lines and intersected at right angles, like a grid. See." I draw a set of grids on the notebook to show the angles of the houses.

"It looks like a chessboard?" he asks.

"Exactly, like a chessboard. This made the cities very organized and easy to navigate."

He writes this down, nodding.

"Second, they had advanced drainage systems..."

We both gets engrossed in understanding the chapter. About an hour and half later we finally completed it.

"Wow, IVC is cool." he says, impressed.

"Yes, it was. The most advanced till date. And we're still not able to copy many planning ideas from it."

"So, they were very organized," he summarizes.

"Exactly."

His face lights up with understanding. "I get it now, Thankyou!" He grins.

"Great, you hungry?" I ask. The kid is continuously studying

"Yeah. Mumma baked some cookies for me before leaving. Can I have those after dinner? Please!" I looked at the boy

Even though Tinkerbell strictly told me and also messaged me to not give him sweets at night, I don't have a heart to deny him.

"Come lets have dinner and then we'll search for the cookies."

Grabbing his hand, we walk to the kitchen.

Scooping him up, I place him on kitchen island and start serving ourselves dinner. "Do you want to eat cucumber?" I ask grabbing the vegetable to chop it.

"Yes."

Once everything was on the plate, I turned him around and make him face me after settling on the stool.

"Here, first pray and then start eating."

"Thankyou."

We had dinner in silence, and later on I gave him two cookies.

After he finished his cookies, I help him down, "Alright, bud, let's get you cleaned up and ready for the bed."

As he brushes his teeth, I lean against the doorframe, lost in thought.

Seven days in and it's nothing like I pictured it to be. So easily I adjusted to my usual routine and the absence of Tinkerbell.

Bidding her off at the the university, I expected it to be somewhat hard for me to adjust back to the empty room.

With her gone, it's like everything is the same as it was four months back, except for Ivaan. What's disconcerting is that I'm not sure if I should be happy about it or not.

I scoff. Ofcourse I can't ever get used to anyone. Don't know what defect my heart has.

And Tinkerbell, I can't help but tell myself to bend with the wind.
She's...cute, gooffy around Ivaan, a good person but I just don't know why I am not able to connect with her. Maybe due to the contract, but a simple sheet of paper can't govern our feelings.

At least not mine, she is my partner but I don't feel any giddiness like I used to when I was with Dhriti, that relationship was filled with emotions.

Initially Ishika let herself be emotionally vulnerable in front of me, and with time I did try coming a little closer to her physically. But everything led to the same emptiness. Nothingness.

I don't want to admit it to myself but the thought has crossed my mind manier times, Do we actually fit together? We're the most incompatible couple. She is so different from what I had always aspired in a partner. How am I going to accept this dimension of my relationship? And even if I accept her, what chances are there that I won't regret it in near future. Even though during the initial days of my marriage I thought to let go these thoughts but I'm unable to dismiss them. They live in my head, disrupting my piece.

But it doesn't mean I don't care about her. A single glance of her and everything in me wants to keep her protected and safe. I do care about her, She is my wife. A delicate little wife whom I can't help but crave to hold in my arms.

That's the reason I'm just moving, leaving everything on the destiny. I don't want to make any decisions on behalf of our marriage, I ain't capable enough.

And with Ivaan in the picture, I can't take rigorous decisions. That kid is too little to handle the ups and downs in his life.
He is too precious.

I watch Ivaan rinsing his mouth, his small hands carefully placing the toothbrush back in the holder. As he turns to me, I hand him a towel to wipe his face.

I smile, I never knew I was capable to hold love in my heart for a kid. This baby right here has filled me with utmost peace and solitude.

His presence is kind to me.

And Ivaan's intelligence makes everything so easy. I have never once had cold feet about taking on his responsibility.

"All clean?" He bobs his head in a yes.

"Okey, time for bed buddy." I guide him back to his room, and get him changed into his night clothes.

"Mr.Big." He's looking at me with his big, doe eyes. "Can I please sleep with you tonight?"

My heart softens. "Course you can. Whenever you want." I take him in my arms and carry him to my bedroom.

As I tuck him in, I'm struck by how natural it feels. I smooth his blanket and adjust the pillow.

"I'll change and come."

Returning back I settle myself on the bed beside Ivaan, and pick my laptop to complete some work and check tomorrow's schedule. Ivaan is quitely observing me.

I place my right hand on his forehead and gently pat him,"Sleep bacha."

"Can I video call mumma?"

I look the watch, right now the time in Seattle will be around 9 in the morning.

"We can try, not sure whether she'll be free or not." Not saying the morning thing, it might confuse the poor kid.

He gleams in delight.

I pick my phone, dialling Tinkerbell's number. Ivaan a little shyly snuggles closer to me.
I smile.

Putting it on video call mode, I hand over the phone to him.

"She'll pick soon. You chat with her, till then I'll complete some of my work." He nods, curiously looking at the phone screen.

After a few rings, Tinkerbell's face appears, and her eyes light up with joy. "Bubba! Hiiii, look at you! You're looking so cute!" Her grin is wide and for the very first time I'm noticing her dimples. She has a dimple on her left cheek. Cute.

Ivaan's face brightens instantly. "Mumma! I miss you," he says, his voice had a longing in it.

"I miss you too, Ivaan. So, so much!" She blows him a kiss, and he giggles, pretending to catch it.

"How's my genius baby doing? Are you being good for Mr. Big?"

I glance up from my laptop, finding myself drawn to their conversation.

"Yes, Mumma. Mr. Big is helping me with homework. We learned about the Indus Valley today!" His excitement is palpable.

Tinkerbell's eyebrows rise in surprise. "The Indus Valley? That's quite advanced! You're growing up so fast Bubba." Ivaan gives her a cute smile.

"Mr. Big also gave me cookies after dinner. They were so sweet mumma, they melted in my mouth like a chocolate. You make the best ones."

I freeze, this shouldn't have been said to her. Tinkerbell mellows down. "Oh, thankyou so much bug. Means a lot. But from next time if you want to eat anything sweet have in afternoon. No cookies after dinner , okey?"

I clear my throat, feeling like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I look at Ivaan from the corner my eyes, he's obediently nodding at her.

"How's Seattle, Mumma?" Ivaan asks, changing the subject. Smart kid.

Tinkerbell's face lights up again. "It's beautiful. The university is huge, and the campus is filled with greenery. It's been raining here since yesterday. And you know I saw a squirrel today, it was cute, because of the rain it was sitting on the window sill of my room."

"A squirrel?" Ivaan giggles.

I watch their exchange, and smile. I have never seen Ivaan talking like is, he is always an introvert and shy kid. I smile.

"Oh, wait! I wanted to show you  my room," she says excitedly. "One day when you'll grow up and got to Uni for higher studies, you'll be staying in room like mine." She tells Ivaan like a mother hen, as if telling him magical secret.

" Really?

She turns her phone, giving us a panoramic view and moves around the room showing her stuff to Ivaan.

"See? This window is my favourite." she says. I notice a teddy bear on her bed—

"Is that Eeyore Mumma?" Ivaan points at something.

I frown, who's Eeyore?

"Yeah. I brought it along with me." She grins sheepishly.

" That's okey, even you need someone to sleep with. Since Mr.big is with me right now."
My eyes widen hearing his words. I look at the screen, Ishika has still not turned the camera back to her. Does she know I'm sitting with Ivaan.

She brings Ivaan back into the conversation, her voice is filled with wonder, and for a brief moment, I see her through different eyes. Not just as my wife or Ivaan's mother, but as Tinkerbell—a young woman set on her own journey, discovering the beauty in fresh experiences.

As  Ivaan says his goodbye and end the call, I'm left pondering. The room feels different now, I can't quite name.

Ivaan yawns, his eyelids heavy. "That was nice. I like seeing Mumma's room."

I nod, gently ruffling his hair. "It does look cozy."

"Why didn't you talk to her? She might be missing you." He asks with curious eyes.

"Don't worry, I'll talk to her tomorrow."

He hums in agreement, then shifts, trying to get comfortable. Suddenly, he frowns. "Mr. Big, there's something hard under the pillow."

"Hmm?" I reach over him. "Let's see what's causing the trouble."

My hand slips under the pillow, and I feel something solid, rectangular. Pulling it out, I find a small, leather-bound diary. The leather is soft, indicating it's often used.

"What is it?" Ivaan asks, curiosity overcoming his sleepiness.

It's kept under Tinkerbells pillow,  did she forget to take it with her?

"It's... it's Mumma's diary," I say, a strange tightness in my throat.

Ivaan's eyes widen. "Really? What does it say?"

I take a deep breath, weighing my options. Reading someone's diary is invasive, but I want to know more about my wife.
I look at Ivaan and then the diary, "We shouldn't read it, buddy. A diary is very private."

He looks disappointed but nods. "Yeah, Mumma says secrets are for keeping. She used to write in her diary, only when she was alone."

I smile at his innocence. "She's right."

Holding the diary, I glance at the side of the bed it was kept—her side. For the past four months, this half of the mattress has been Tinkerbell's. Each night, she'd curl up there, sometimes reading and sometimes just staring out the window in thought.

I keep the diary on the side table near me. Still in the dilemma whether to read it or not.

I've never really seen her in this space.

"Mr. Big?" Ivaan's voice pulls me back. "Are you okay?"

I blink, not realizing I'd been staring at the diary. "Yes, buddy. Just thinking."

He snuggles closer, his small hand finding mine. "About Mumma?"

I swallow hard. "Yes, about Mumma." And I continue to pat his back gently, until he drifts off to sleep.

I find my gaze drawn back to that little book. 

Wrapping up everything, I switch off the lights  except for the table lamp. I lean back on the headrest. I look at the  diary..., accidentally left behind.

Not something she'll choose to show me, because it belongs so intimately to her personal space— where she writes.

My hand unconsciously reaches out, not to open the diary, but just to touch its spine.

For the first time, I ponder on to: why do I want to know about her secrets? Her real self and not something she wants to show me.

I look at diary, What secrets does it hold? What dreams, fears, and desires has Tinkerbell told these pages? Is there mention of me, of our arranged marriage? Does she write about the awkward dinners, the very first time I touched her, the void in our marriage,the polite exchanges, the moments when we've almost, but not quite, connected?

I  shake my head. Why do I even care? She's my wife in name. Her thoughts, her inner world—they shouldn't matter. Yet...

I glance at Ivaan, deep in  slumber. This boy, with his  tender heart, has changed my life in mere days. Through him, I've experienced emotions I never knew I possessed—patience, nurturing, unconditional love. If a child can unlock such depths in me, is it possible that his mother, my wife, might stir other unknown emotions?

My hand hovers over the diary.

A gentleman's code says to respect her privacy.

The business tycoon in me argues that information is power—knowing her thoughts could help me navigate this marriage more strategically.

But there's another voice, one I rarely heed. It whispers that maybe, just maybe, I'm genuinely curious about her.

Not for gain or advantage, but because I want to actually know about Ishika not my wife, neither Ivaan's mother, Just Ishika—her anonymity, her joy, her strength, her innocence, her setbacks.

"Forgive me, bella" I murmur. "I... I need to understand."

With a mixture of anticipation and guilt, I open the very first page of the diary.

Her handwriting greets me—neat and looped.

I take a deep breath, and read the first page.

I have come to you,
Because I've no where else to go.
Love me as I am,
Because slowly and steadily,
I'm learning,
All of me.

The words staring at me.

I feel like an intruder, trying to peek in her vulnerability. 

These words are unsettling, she sounds lost. Pleading to be accepted in rawness.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I neglect my conscience, warning me about privacy. I gently turn to the first entry.

                                             1:46 am

23 November'2017

Heyy,

I'm Ishika or yashika or Ishu. I'm 17 year old. And writing an entry for the first time.

Actually my name was yashika before I forced my mother to get it changed with letter I, that name always pushed me back to the last. So yeah in my 8th grade I became Ishika. Nice na.

I have just started my graduation hardly a month has passed, major in pol science.

Today I don't know what struck me, and I picked you.

It's past midnight, and while everyone sleeps, I'm wide awake stuck with heavy emotions in the silence.

I'm kinda terrified about everything.

And this word, it's for the time I'm confessing it myself.

Coming here I thought I'll give my best in studies, but I have been caught in a whirlwind of emotions. Something I've never experienced before. And it's terrifying. Because it's deviating me away from the outer world.

I'm so caught up in my thoughts.

Imagine seeing yourself turning from a lively careless kid to an overthinking and overly sensitive teenager.

And I can't share it with anyone, no body will understand the complexities of a college life, friends who you don't know are a facade or they really care about you.

By the way I never had friends before coming here. But in the dorm i did make some. Let's see how long we'll go. My boringness wouldn't let the friendship survive.

Okeyyy I think I can't express more than this, being it my first time. For it I have to be truthful to myself first.

And yeah I won't write daily, I'm not that kinda person.

We'll meet when I'm extremely sad.

And i don't even know what I have written, it's just a mess of my emotions which is still blur.

Hope I'll sort it out.

Will meet you soon,

Yours

Ishika/Yashika/Ishu.

(Still unclear)

I close the diary with a thud. The entry is like I have travelled back in time. To a 17 year old girl.

Some of the words she has written feels wrong, how can a person like Ishika be boring.

Remembering the video call, she was excitedly showing Ivaan her room, telling her about the squirrel, the stuffed Eeyore. She is anything but that, finding joy in simple things.

The various name with which signed off, I realise she does not accept things easily, but process them deeply.    

I place the diary the drawer of my nightstand. With a thought of knowing her slowly and steadily.

I feel guilty for invading her privacy.

I lay on the bed.

The question that now burns in my chest, keeping sleep at bay: Am I brave enough to step into a piece of her life?

             To be continued...

Okey I don't know what the hell I've written.

Whether I've made the story plot boring, or intresting.

Or gave it an Uniqueness.

Your opinions are welcome. Do tell me about this concept.

Hope you liked Abhiraj's Pov.

The previous ones were too empty.

So Abhiraj is going to learn about Ishika from his own perspective in an invasive Manner.

Let's see what happens.

Next update soon.

Till then don't forget to 👇