This bonus chapter is my way of saying thank you to you guys for 700k+ reads. Also this was requested by some readers, so here it is.

ALSO! The gif is basically how I imagine Jaanvi and Kiaan behave after their stupid fights when they are all good.

Not Edited- Like always, lol.

Started Typing On - 09/05/2019 (10.33 AM till 05.21 PM)

Bonus Chapter-

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Author's Pov: Chapter based one Kiaan and Jaanvi's third year into marriage

The spatula licks away the chocolate cake mixture from the big glass bowl, it makes a familiar soft scraping noise, the one they were used to because she loved baking. Her son watches from standing up on the couch for a better view as he holds the wall for support so he doesn't fall on his face flat. Those innocent big eyes go bigger seeing the smooth rich chocolate mixture dripping into the cake pan and he licks his mouth feeling the hunger rushing back to him.

"Cak," He tries to whisper softly but his voice comes out like a loud squeak in happiness, his mother's eyes automatically finds him standing up but his legs wobbly from the soft sofa bending down, seeing the little two year old and three month old son about to fall from the pressure she tries not to run fast but drop the idea once Ishaan's expressions turn confused, his brown honey bee eyes going big and soft pinkish red lips parting to say something.

Right now the most important thing for her was her son's safety, which seemed on the line. His small soft hands try to reach out to her hold onto her hand but falls on the couch with his head hitting the wall behind. His small hands flies into the back of his head and he lets out a pitiful sob breaking Jaanvi's heart.

It's been hard for her. The recovery of her grandmother's death still felt so fresh, so fresh and new because seeing her own son playing with his grandparents sometimes stung her heart because her own wasn't here. She only had her grandmother out of all her grandparents, and she also left just a few months after Ishaan's birth.

It was getting hard. They had shifted into a new house because the last one was unsafe for a little naughty and adventurist kid like Ishaan. He'd always nag his parents of nanu (Grandfather) Ansh to take him to the balcony, and like Jaanvi being herself, she panicked every time he was out. What if he falls? The possibilities of the younger Rajput were high at stakes since he loved looking down at people walking around. So they shifted. It's been around one month since they've shifted but Jaanvi's still having trouble to get use to the surroundings.

"Ishaan!" She hisses quietly so she doesn't disturb her father and husband. Sitting on the couch she pulls Ishaan into her lap and starts rubbing and massaging his head gently. The touch of his silky baby like hair melts her heart a little, flipping her body inside out but she ignores that to look strict. "Why were you standing? What if you had gotten hurt?"

His happy curled up lips from being close to her heart turned upside down into a sad line and his cheeks go red, just like they did whenever he cried. He rips his arms away from her middle and moves away from her chest and folds his arms looking away to show he's angry at her. Drama queen, just like Kiaan.

Kiaan does that more often now. Whenever he's angry or just generally upset he'd look away from Jaanvi and folds his arms across his chest, his actions speaking thousands of words.

"Ha, ha, go on," she murmurs rolling her eyes at her sons back when he tries to wriggle out of her strong grip around him. She tightens her hold and whirls him around so he faces her. Oh, his stubborn boy. He still didn't look at her. "-weren't your nanu and father enough to show me this look that now even you." She pouts seeing the lack of attention from her son.

"Guusa kaara." (Scolded me) His smooth baby like voice comes and her lips curl into a gentle smile, the smile covering her face and it shows through her eyes. It always gave her this warmth inside her heart hearing Ishaan trying to speak in Hindi, otherwise Kiaan would hardly speak in Hindi with him.

"He should be able to speak in English, I mean, that's the native language over here." He'd say and she'll snap back giving a bitter reply like, 'He's not born in a white house which means his first language should be Hindi since his parents are Indian. The school would teach him en--'

The memory washes away noticing Ishaan trying to get out of her hold. What do I do with him? An idea pops in her head and she lets go of her son. Ishaan looks at her for a good few seconds, shocked how easily she let him go but seeing her watching him he looks away frowning. Jumping away from her he sits on the floor by the glass table with his back facing her.

He wants attention but indirectly. She bites her inner cheeks from preventing to laugh out loudly. The father and son would make it so obvious to her whenever they were angry, basically rubbing it on her face so she doesn't forget to apologise.

Kiaan would purposely walk around her, making noises or mutter things like, "I'm hungry but who cares? No one gives a damn if a working man is hungry or not? People are so selfish." And then he'd walk away from the room, not to forget, his strides would be extra slow, taking his time wishing she'd apologise for whatever had happened.

And Ishaan would do something similar to his father. He'd stay close to Jaanvi, right close to her eyes with his back facing her so she doesn't catch his expressions changing. His toys would be all around the floor, specifically in front of her feet since he's aware of the fact that she won't bend down as she's six months pregnant with his twin siblings. In that case, he knows she'd call him to pick the toys up and definitely apologise.

She's known his antics by now and as stubborn as him she just sits back, resting her hands on her belly. "It's ok, my twins would love Me." Jaanvi whispers in a sad voice and she notices Ishaan's ear move a little. "Nobody gives me love, but my twins would and they will be my favourite." She flinches hearing her son throwing his teddy on the floor.

"Now I'll only read books to my twi--" She was interrupted by Kiaan's whistle echoing through the hallway into the living room. He damped hair were gracing his temple a little, inches away from touching his earthy eyes. His dark black eyebrows raise in Jaanvi's direction, giving her the -what-happened-now- look once noticing Ishaan's favourite teddy thrown away.

She shrugs her shoulders slump down and sits back, waiting to see that father and son drama play in front of her eyes to entertain her. Pushing the hair tickling his temple by his fingers, Kiaan gives Jaanvi a knowing look and walks over to his son once putting the empty glass on the table in front of his wife.

Kneeling down in front of his little boy, Kiaan wore his typical black Adidas track pants with the white strips along the sides of his legs and simple light green-fades t-shirt with a V-neck giving away an open view of his muscular biceps with veins begging to pop out.

Jaanvi gulps away, pretending to not admire how handsome and attractive he still looked at age thirty. The t-shirt felt as if it was personally made for him, to hug his body and show how much time and effort he puts into his gym session and the dark black messy uncombed hair were just absolutely enough to send Jaanvi into her own little world.

"What happened, buddy?" He asks sitting in Indian style on the floor, watching his son carefully to understand the situation properly. Ishaan looks up at Kiaan with his honey bee eyes for a second, it's like his tears were waiting to touch the ground once his father was in front of him and they did just that. The unshed tears started spilling uncontrollably now and he let out a historical sob.

His small feet covered with blue socks enter in the gap between is fathers ankle and crotch to come close to him and wraps his hand around his father's wet neck from the shower Kiaan just had. His soft lips touched over the t-shirt Kiaan had worn but still did the magic by paining his heart. Kiaan wraps Ishaan into a tight, warm, protective and strong hug and looks over his shoulder glaring at a worried Jaanvi.

"I didn--" she tried to explain but his one angry and stony look left no room for discussion.

"Ishaan?" He calls out feeling the hot tears soaking up his new t-shirt. Thank god it's not white. His son was crying like someone hit him and he was busy explaining and remembering what coloured t-shirt he wore, great. Gently running his hands on the small of his back he feels Ishaan calming down.

"M-mumma b-bola ki she n-not love me." (Mumma said that she doesn't love me) His baby voice comes out followed by tears again. The muffled up voice was something they were used to so he understood exactly what his son meant. Rising up on his feet with his hand secured around the child he looks at Jaanvi displeasingly.

"Really, Jaanvi?" He roars, his eyes shooting daggers her way but what hurt more was the name. Her name from his mouth. His way of showing frustration and anger without hurtful words-he tries to be careful with his phrase around Jaanvi, knowing how she is-is addressing her by her name. Not Stubborn Cat, or Ariel, or even Jaan. It's plain old Jaanvi.

Astonished at his blunt accusation she tried getting up from her seat, the whole time making eye contact to show how honest she is. "I didn't say that!" Her hand holds the armrest of the couch to get up but it doesn't help her balance.

"Just stay seated, Jaanvi." He warns her, taking few steps closer to her incase something goes wrong. Everything always went wrong around her.

"Stop using my name!" Her cheeks go pathetically red in frustration and Ishaan looks to see what's going on between his parents. Ishaan was too small-young to understand that Jaanvi wasn't saying she didn't love him but only pulling his leg and she was angry that her son was lying. Her whole life had depended on a lie at one point, maybe this is why she was so angry.

"Ok, sorry, calm down." Kiaan switches on his worried, carful and mature mode on because he knows Jaanvi won't. He's used to dropping his emotions mid-way with her, especially since she's pregnant. With twins.

She's been going crazy. Crazily worried. In the morning she'll act normal but only Kiaan knows how badly she cries at night with stuffing her mouth a scarf so he doesn't hear her sobs. At first he thought it was just hormones but as the days passed on he recalled the timing of these crying session. It started after she found out she's with twins. She's not admitting it but a huge part of her is worried about raising up twins. She didn't want her twins to be like Juhi's.

"You think I don't love you?" Kiaan looks down to see panic flickering in Ishaan's eyes and his arms tighten around his son. He wants to yell at her but he's well aware of how guilty she still is of ever having the idea of aborting Ishaan. She tries everything possible to make him smile. "I was worried you'll fall. I just wanted you to talk to me so I started teasing you to make you jealous but that doesn't mean I don't lov--" her voice trails off into Kiaan's chest once he pulls her close to him.

"It's ok, he's fine. He's fine, Jaan." His raspy smooth and evenly balanced voice turns the level of tears down her system and she breaths in and out carefully. Her arms wrap around Ishaan and the other around Kiaan as she lets her ear hear his steady heartbeats. His heartbeats to sooth her down and drown herself into the lightness.

"Mummy was just worried, Ishaan, ok?" Kiaan murmurs against Jaanvi's head, his lips touching her scalp and she tightens her hold on him. Kiaan passes his son a weak smile seeing how puzzled yet worried he looked once hearing his mother sniff. He gently shakes his head at his son's direction, gesturing him to talk or hug Jaanvi to patch up again.

The little boy looks hesitant at first as he tries to get out of Kiaan's hold and run away but stops seeing his father's sad and disappointed face. Bringing his small hands on Jaanv's back, Ishaan pulls onto her scarf so she unwraps herself from Kiaan and looks at him. He wanted attention from his mother.

She feels the scarf being pulled and looks to see Ishaan's big eyes red from crying. The hot steam of tear was rolling down slowly tickling him when Jaanvi wiped it away quickly for him. Her warm hands on his wet cheeks felt so nice and perfect that he leaned onto his mother's touch. "Sooye." (Sorry) he whispers, jumping into her arm and leaving a very offended Kiaan.

"Great. Talking to Mumma now so who needs papa, right?" He starts, looking thoroughly pissed, or least that's what he showed the mother and son. Taking a step back his lips twitch up into a very upset look seeing Jaanvi whispering something in Ishaan's ear. "What did she say?" He asks getting impatient.

"Cak banao aap." (Make cake) Ishaan tries to speak properly without laughing but in the end both him and Jaanvi burst out laughing at the sight of Kiaan's horrifying expressions. He hated baking. Apparently, he was too busy to watch around the oven.

"No I wo--"

"Oh, you will or you can sleep here tonight." The wicked smile glittered in her eyes, sparkling as she walked towards the teddy on the floor.

"That's so unfair." His brain was blowing up. The last time she kicked him out of their bedroom was when Ishaan was few months old, Kiaan has no description to describe how awful it was to sleep on the couch. Even Ansh has carefully and smartly minded his own business and didn't interfere in their fights. "That's not nice, Ariel." He panics, following her.

"When did I say I'm nice?" She smiles, chewing her lower lip for a bit. Ishaan kept playing with her hair and laughed seeing his father's pouty face all along. He bends down to help her getting the teddy, hoping she'd drop the stupid idea but she doesn't. Accepting the little boys teddy and holding it onto her hand Jaanvi walks into the hallway.

"Hurry up, Kiaan. We want to eat cake." Her voice was fading away from the distance since he froze looking into the kitchen counter. I'm not baking cake. But he loved eating it.

"You were crying a second ago and now you're acting as if it never happened." He tries to sound serious but it comes out like a normal brat. Matching her steps and falling beside her he walks into the room as she places Ishaan on the bed with the teddy on his hand now.

"No I wasn't." She lies with a cult look.

His eyebrows raise, frowning. "Don't lie."

"I'm not lying." She starts to fold the small blankets of Ishaan on the bed, completely ignoring Kiaan's gaze.

"You so were!" His tone shoes how ready he is for a debate. Looking at his son with hopeful eyes, Kiaan kneels in front of him placing his palms on his small legs to draw his son's attention. "Mumma was crying right?"

Ishaan whips his head in Jaanvi's direction trying to figure out what answer would be good in this particular situation. If he agreed with Kiaan the worse that could happen would be Jaanvi ignoring him or acting cold or saying things like 'my favourite child is your brother or sister,' to Ishaan and he didn't like getting ignored or teased like this by his mother.

If he disagreed then it'll break Kiaan's heart but his father would come around after a day and forget everything. It was tougher with his mother. So he lied. "No." He shook his head and starts playing with his teddy and Jaanvi smiles in victory.

"He's a liar!" Kiaan jumps up, pointing at Ishaan who pouty like he'd cry any second. "Who was crying like a little baby when mumma wasn't talking? You. And I was consoling you and now you change teams? Traitor!" he says out of the side of his mouth and regrets it the next moment when Ishaan folds his small arms across his chest and his lower lips inside gum showing and he cries. "Shit." He curses.

"Now look what you did, Mr Truth." Jaanvi taunts picking up Ishaan in her arms. "Papa is crazy, ignore him. See you've got such a cool mumma, who needs papa?" She touches his hot wet cheeks and he looks up at her with blurry big brown eyes.

"Uh-huh?" The father lets out a frustrated breath. "Umm, son, I--" He points at himself like the other two standing in front of him don't know what he's talking about. "-am the one who brings you toys, not your useless mother."

Jaanvi nods smiling and then furrows, really offended. She takes a step closer to him with her son in her arms, staring at her husband fiercely. "I cook." She says with pride and Ishaan nods.

He looks at his father, waiting for him to give a better response and he does. "Ishaan, I pay for the groceries. Not mumma."

She narrows her eyes at him and then glances at her son like he's the judge of this debate. "Ishaan, I change your clothes." He nod then looks back at his father for another point.

Kiaan looks around to search for a point and smiles remembering something big. "Ishaan," the little boys name was like a sentence starter for the two adults now. Ishaan's big eyes look up waiting for his father to speak. Kiaan gaze intense as he murmurs, "I swim with you, not like Mumma." He smirks and her body becomes stiff.

"That's because we only just moved into this house and I can't swim now because I'm pre--" she tries to explain but Kiaan stops her by taking Ishaan in his arms.

"Mumma talks too much and does nothing." His easy and mischief smile sparkles through his eyes sending goose bumps into her body, down her arms to the back of her neck but she ignores it standing still. "And papa does what he says." He says, his voice huskier than usual. He was trying to intimidate her and it seemed to work as she trembled a little.

"But I make c-cakes!" She trips over her sentence a little, hating the thirty-year olds annoyingly magical effecting eyes making her loose her mind. Her hands hold onto Ishaan's waist, ready to pull him into her grasp but Kiaan tightens his hold.

"I paid for the oven." He shoots her a challenging look, pulling their son to himself.

"I learnt how to cook that rich chocolate cake for you, Ish." She says sincerely, trying to emotionally blackmail her son since she knows Kiaan holds more power because he works and earns money.

"I learnt how to change diapers for you, beta." (Son) Kiaan's voice went dead serious. Now they weren't even looking to see if Ishaan was fine from their ranting. They kept arguing and trying to pull him towards themselves without caring or remember that his arm might be hurting, all they saw was victory, to win against each other.

"I had you inside my womb, Ishaan!" The feminist inside her was awoken with a bang. She grips onto her sons hand tightly, pulling him to herself but Kiaan held her wrist tightly with his free hand.

"And I put him inside your wom--" And his egoistic manly voice was cut off by Ishaan's loud cry.

"N-Nanu!" (Grandfather) He screams, hitting Kiaan shoulder to get down and run to his grandfather's embrace who was sleeping inside his bedroom. The couple steal glances at each other and then look at their son to see red marks on his wrist and they hiss being guilty. "Nanu!" He shouts pushing onto Kiaan's shoulder and Jaanvi places her hand on his back so he doesn't fall of from the iron grip of his father.

Ansh comes running into the room with a tired look but right now it was covered by a concerned one trying to look for his grandson. "Iaa." He calls and stops once seeing the sniffing Ishaan. "Kaau?" (What happened?) His thick voice comes seeing the extremely crying Ishaan. He takes him of his son-in-law's hand and embrace the child close to his thin body. "Iaa."

"Hurt." He whispers showing his wrist marked with red. Ansh goes into a serious shock for a brief moment. He couldn't understand how this could possible happen since both Jaanvi and Kiaan were always extra careful with where and what their son played with. He raises the small boys long sleeve shirt up to see blooming and angry red marks roaring on his soft skin.

"Jaave!" He yells, glaring at her and she hops behind her husband, holding his arms.

"P-p-papa, Kiaan did it." She says and genuine surprise flashes in Ansh's face looking at Kiaan. Kiaan was holding his wife's hand to assure her she'll be fine but hearing her accusation of blaming him for their son's sore hand he jerked her hand away and his brows shot up.

Spinning around to face her he glared. "Excuse me?" His voice tight.

She moved aside, and he glares raising his hand up, asking her what the hell she's doing. "You said excuse me, so I moved aside."

"Oh. My. God." He massages his temple and joins his hands in front of his father-in-law. "Where did you get this antic piece from?" Ansh genuinely wanted to laugh but seeing the situation he just shrug his shoulders, leaving a curious Kiaan. "Papa, she started pulling Ishaan from my grip not me."

"No papa! He did." She pressed, pushing Kiaan aside so her father sees her sincere and sad eyes.

"No, she did! She started everything." He holds her elbow and pushes her aside carefully, coming into view of Ansh's eyes. Ishaan was getting irritated now, he wanted cake but his parents were busy fighting. "Remember papa, you told me Jaanvi always starts the fight." Kiaan says with an evil grin remembering Ansh's words from last month after Kiaan and Jaanvi had a heated argument.

Ansh's mouth opens and closes. Now she'll become a witch and won't spare me. The old man gulps in fear of making his daughter angry since he did say exactly that a month ago just to calm Kiaan down. He didn't want his children to fight and stop talking, if only the poor man knew Kiaan wanted to add more fuel into the fire to annoy Jaanvi by mentioning old conversations at this moment.

Ansh zips his mouth and keeps shaking his head violently and gives Kiaan a hard intimidating stare but it doesn't even affect him at all, Kiaan just shrugs and sits on the bed with his legs wide open and hands sitting flat on behind him as he watches with enjoyment. Turned my son against me, now watch Jaanvi.

"You said this? Really, Papa?" Her voice was so thick and hurt known her father thinks she starts right. He's supposed to support me! Not him. She was frowning by the time Ansh lets go of Ishaan who walks away from the room having enough of the drama. Anger radiating from him as she steps closer to him and Kiaan just watches with amusement.

Ansh glares at Kiaan over his daughter shoulder, warning him with his eyes to never speak to him. Ansh wanted to dodge away from the hurt look of his daughter and once he was ready to look away from the enjoying Kiaan, his son-in-law mouthed, 'now she'll say, "how could you, papa?"' and he makes a sad face to go along with his sentence.

"How could you, papa?" His daughter's voice was heavy with emotions and he swallows seeing her sad face. She's been too moody lately, sometimes even jealous because her father gave more attention to her husband and son. Ansh would always support Kiaan on suggestions like walking around the park to get fresh air or how strictly Kiaan doesn't want her to eat pizza.

He has some serious issues with her cravings for pizza. Probably his way of torturing her since she's thrown away half of his white shirt collection.

And even now her father was supporting Kiaan. "And she said it!" Kiaan jumps up from his spot and claps his hand together, irritating the already irritated Jaanvi. "See, I told you she'll start ranting again."

"Thapora mat dekha mujhe apna." Jaanvi's voice was just inches away from shouting. She turns around to face her husband and grumbles many curse words underneath her breath. Her eyes formed with dark black lashes bore into his without any hint of guilt for humour.

"English please?" He requests. Because of his ego he won't admit but her current annoyed outburst was like a warning. He glanced at his bed one last time before making a mental note of sleeping outside for sure tonight.

"Thaap?" Ansh asks, confused what on earth 'thapora' means exactly means.

"Thapora as in face! Don't show me your face, Kiaan. I know you're trying to piss me off but I won't shout. I won't get angry." But she is shouting and Kiaan tries to hide his grin but he can't. "Stop smiling. You all are ganging up against me!"

Now she'll say, 'no one understands me'. And she says just that. "Nobody understands me. Can't you three male let me live? I'm having so much trouble trying to balance myself and you all are sh-" her heartfelt lecture pouring her emotions out were interrupted by a loud noise of glass shattering on the floor.

"Ishaan." She whispers, her voice panicking, she was freaking out as she walked out the room followed by her father and a worried husband. All three of them prayed he hasn't gotten hurt and what they see makes them smile.

Jaanvi couldn't help but bit her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing out loud. Kiaan took a good look at Jaanvi's reaction to make out if she'll be fine with him laughing. He doesn't even realise but he tries not to support his son because if he does and Jaanvi isn't happy about it, she makes him pay one way or another.

The guy has become a puppy from her anger issues. Once making sure she's smiling at their son he burst out laughing lightly at the sight of his mischief son. Ansh takes out his phone and clicks pictures of his grandson who was covered-showered with the chocolate mixture.

His soft hair was dripping with the cake mixture, his mouth was occupied with the sweet richness of the mixture his mother had made but quickly tried to wipe his wet lashes from the chocolate with the back of his hand but to his bummer that was also covered. "Sooye." (Sorry) He softy and sadly says blinking his eyes rapidly so the mixture doesn't come into his eyes.

He was a mum's boy and didn't want to upset or disappoint her in any way so apologising seemed like the best idea. Jaanvi touches her temple and laughs at him. "You naughty boy." She bends down to his level and wipes his face with her scarf. Her son makes sure she's not angry and when he does, he chuckles looking around the mess he made in the kitchen.

"Ch-choc," he touches the chocolate all over the kitchen floor and touches it with his finger, touching some with his finger he brings it to his mother's face for her to eat it, all this time Kiaan watches in adoration and Ansh clicks pictures while recording a video.

"No, don't eat it. It's dirty. I'll make you another cake, ok?" He nods and she picks up his body covered with chocolate away from the shattered bowl by his side. "How did this happen?" Jaanvi asks.

Ishaan looks away guilty and then looks at the three adults back and forth. How does a little boy explain he was hungry while his family members were fighting like little children? "I p-puued the bowl and," (I pulled the bowl and) then he raises his small sticky hands to show that the bowl fell beside him and the splashes of chocolate showered him.

"Yeh mera hi beta hai, pakka." (He is my son for sure) Kiaan comments playfully pulling his sons cheek and Jaanvi takes a step back with her son in her arms, not happy with the comment. "I-it w-was a joke, calm do--"

"What do you mean your son? What do I lo--"

"T-tat wy I went." (That's why I went) Ishaan lets out an exhausted breath face palming himself because his parents were once again ready to fight. He gives his grandfather a helpless look and extends his arms to go into his arms instead of his mothers.

Ansh looks at his daughter and son-in-law and all three adults burst into a fit of laughter. The poor boy was so over his parent's stupid arguments that he left the room to eat the raw mixture to kill his hunger. "We're sorry, Ish." They mutter kissing his sticky cheeks. Jaanvi keeps whispering sorry's in the small boy's ears while Kiaan made funny faces by pulling his ears and hair to make his son laugh and forgive him.

Ansh smiles at the small family. Taking a step back he presses on the camera app and takes multiple pictures of the three. His favourite picture was when Ishaan made an annoyed and disgusted face because his parents were keep on kissing his face over and over again. While the parents were busy kissing him, Ishaan looked directly at his nanu and gave him a helpless look. She's really happy, Ishaani. She truly is. Your sacrifice was worth it. And he wipes away a lone tear before anyone could notice it.

"Meh." (Me) Ansh whisper, faking his stern voice and keeping an angry face after being left alone while his children showered Ishaan with kisses. He slides his phone onto his kurta pocket and wraps his old thin hands around his son-in-law, daughter and bends his face down to gently kiss his grandson and whispered, "Loob uh Iaa." (Love you Ishaan)

Married My Enemy (I missed typing this Title lol)

Hope it wasn't boring because I know long chapters are SUPER boring sometimes.

Thank you for the reads once again.

~ Yash