Now, the next chapter after this target is completed.

Today's target -
‼️NEXT UPDATE ON Sunday‼️
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मरहमी सा चाँद है तू
दिलजला सा मैं अँधेरा
एक-दूजे के लिए है
नींद मेरी, ख़्वाब तेरा

तू घटा है फुहार की, मैं घड़ी इंतज़ार की
अपना मिलना लिखा इसी बरस है ना?

जो मेरी मंज़िलों को जाती है
तेरे नाम की कोई सड़क है ना
जो मेरे दिल को दिल बनाती है
तेरे नाम की कोई धड़क है ना

हो, कोई बाँधनी जोड़ा ओढ़ के
बाबुल की गली आऊँ छोड़ के
तेरे ही लिए लाऊँगी, पिया
१६ साल के सावन जोड़ के

प्यार से थामना, डोर बारीक है
सात जन्मों की ये पहली तारीख़ है

डोर का एक मैं सिरा और तेरा है दूसरा
जुड़ सके बीच में कहीं तड़प है ना

जो मेरी मंज़िलों को जाती है
तेरे नाम की कोई सड़क है ना
जो मेरे दिल को दिल बनाती है
तेरे नाम की कोई धड़क है ना
_____________________________

"Bhabhi, ye wala kitna pyara hai."

(Bhabhi, this one is so cute.)

My fingers gently touched the tiny pink frock lying neatly on the pile of baby clothes, and I couldn't help but smile, my heart swelling with joy.

The fabric was delicate, almost as if it were made for dreams, and I imagined tiny hands reaching out, soft giggles filling the room.

I traced the little buttons on the front, my smile growing wider. I was going to be an Bua. The thought of it made my heart flutter.

My bhabhi sat on the edge of the bed, her hand resting on her little round belly, a soft glow on her face. My mother sat beside her, their voices low, talking about things I couldn't hear. I glanced back at the frocks, the little hats, the tiny socks all spread out on the mattress.

They were all beautiful-soft shades of pink, white, and a little yellow. But it was that pink frock that caught my eye. It made everything feel real. I picked it up gently, holding it in my hands, my fingers smoothing over the tiny folds. My bhabhi watched me with a smile, her eyes shining with unspoken dreams.

She believed it would be a girl. I could see it in the way she looked at those tiny dresses, her hands reaching out to touch them with so much care, so much affection. I felt it too. I don't know why, but my heart whispered the same thing. A little girl, soft and small, with big eyes and tiny hands, filling our home with laughter.

I turned toward my mother, feeling her presence beside me. Her hands were folded in her lap, her gaze distant, her eyes fixed on the floor as if she were lost in some deep thought. I watched her for a moment, noticing the way her brows knitted together, the way her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Kya hua Maa?" I asked gently, tilting my head to catch her eyes.

(What happened, Maa?)

She blinked, her eyes flickering back to life, and she glanced at my bhabhi before turning back to me. I followed her gaze, watching as my bhabhi looked away, her fingers smoothing over her dupatta, her eyes not meeting mine. It was strange, the way they both seemed to share a silent conversation, one I couldn't understand.

I looked back at my mother, feeling a small knot form in my stomach. She reached out, her hands finding mine, her touch gentle but firm. Her fingers wrapped around mine, and with her other hand, she patted the back of my hand softly.

"Dadi to banne wali hu beta, Nani kab banaogi?"

(I am going to be a grandmother, dear. When will you make me a grandmother?)

Her words struck me like a gentle wave, soft but strong enough to leave me still. I stared at her, the question lingering in the air, I was not expecting it-not from her, not like this.

I was speechless, my mind blank, my heart still. I didn't know how to react. It was as if my tongue had forgotten how to move, my lips parting slightly, but no words came out.

I glanced at my bhabhi, slowly, my eyes searching hers. But the happiness in the eye that was shining before wasn't there. Her gaze was heavy, burdened, and she didn't look back at me. I looked back at my mother, finally finding my voice.

"Maa-"

But she didn't let me finish. Her hand squeezed mine a little tighter, her eyes holding mine with a firmness I rarely saw.

"Teen mahine hone ko aaye teri shaadi ko. Kuch socha hai?"

(It's been almost three months since your marriage. Have you thought about it?)

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to breathe. Her words hung between us, pressing down on me, heavy and unyielding. I blinked, trying to clear the haze from my mind, but the weight of her question stayed, unmoving.

I slowly slipped my hand from hers, the warmth of her touch fading as I stood up. My legs felt unsteady, but I straightened myself, my eyes fixed on the floor. I couldn't look at her. I couldn't look at my bhabhi. I didn't know what to say. My thoughts were tangled, my heart unsure. I wasn't prepared for this-not for this conversation, not from my mother.

I took a step back, my hand brushing the edge of the bed, and I forced myself to breathe, slow and steady. This wasn't a conversation I thought I would ever have with her, not like this, not in this moment. The silence grew heavy, stretching between us, and I felt it settle in my bones, cold and unyielding.

I stood near the window, my fingers brushing against the cold metal frame. The evening sun spilled its warm light across the fields outside, stretching long shadows over the patches of green and yellow. But my heart... my heart was heavy.

Children.

The word floated in my mind, lingering there, settling deep. Sidharth ji and I... we never talked about it.

Not once.

It wasn't even at the back of my mind. My hands moved to the edge of the window, gripping it just a little tighter. It was strange how everyone else seemed to think about it more than I did.

I swallowed, blinking away the warmth gathering in my eyes. I wasn't ready. I knew that much. How could I be? My cheeks grew warm just thinking about it, and I pressed my lips together, pushing the thought away.

"Noor-" Maa's voice drifted from the hallway, soft and sweet like always. I didn't move. I kept my gaze outside, watching the sun dip lower, its colors spreading wider. I wanted to stay there, hidden in the softness of the evening light. But then, Bhabhi's voice broke through, sharp and clear.

"Kya bol rahi hai aap Maa?"
(What are you saying, Maa?)

Her voice wasn't loud, but it held that edge-one that made my hands tighten against the window sill. There was a pause, a soft, heavy silence before Maa spoke again.

"Wahi jo zaroori hai."
(The same thing that is necessary.)

The words felt heavier than they should have, settling in the pit of my stomach. I kept my eyes on the fields, tracing the wind as it moved through the grass. There was something about the way they spoke, something that made my heart pick up its pace. I wasn't ready to hear it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

"Noor beta, jaise main dadi bani hu, teri saas ka bhi toh armaan hoga dadi banne ka-"

(Just like I became a grandmother, your mother-in-law must also want to become one.)

My breath caught in my throat. I stared harder out the window, as if the trees and the sunlight would somehow make it easier to breathe. But it didn't. My heart pounded, loud and uneven. I felt my cheeks warm, my hands suddenly cold. I didn't want to turn around. I didn't want to face them.

"Toh woh khud bolengi Maa. Aap samajhti kyun nahi. Umar kitni hi hai humari Noorie ki?"
(Then she will say it herself, Maa. Why don't you understand? How young is our Noorie?)

Bhabhi's voice was firmer now, the softness gone. I blinked slowly, my fingers still clutching the edge of the window.

My mind spun with their words, stitching together thoughts I didn't want to have. My heart felt heavy, pressing against my ribs.

And then... the silence broke. Bhabhi's voice, louder this time. "Maa, aapko mana kiya tha na humne ki uss aurat ki baaton ko sir pe na le phir bhi?"

(Maa, didn't I tell you not to listen to that woman's words? Yet, you still do?)

I turned around slowly, my fingers slipping from the window's edge. My heart still pounded, loud and unsteady. Bhabhi stood there, her hands on her hips, her eyes sharp and filled with something I couldn't quite place. Maa looked tired... more tired than I had ever seen her. Her shoulders were tense, her eyes shining with something close to fear.

"Galat kya keh rahi thi woh? Sidharth beta bhi chahte honge ki ek waaris ho jaye unhe. A-Aur bacha ho jaane pe iska hi faayda hai tab meri beti ko. Jab h-hum na rahein to koi kuch nahi bolega-"
(What wrong did she say? Even Sidharth must want an heir. And if she has a child, it's good for my daughter too. When we are no longer here, no one will say anything-)

Her voice cracked, trembling at the edges. I watched her shoulders shake, her eyes filling with tears she wouldn't let fall. Before I could think, my feet moved forward. My hands found hers, small and cold against mine. "Maa..." I whispered, my voice soft, breaking just a little.

Bhabhi hurried away, coming back with a glass of water. I stayed, holding Maa's hands, grounding her as much as I could. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to think. My mind was too full, too heavy with thoughts that I wasn't ready for. But I held her hands tighter, hoping it would be enough.

I couldn't meet her eyes. I don't know why, but I just couldn't. My heart was too heavy, my hands too cold. I blinked back the warmth in my eyes, pressing my lips together.

Bhabhi stepped forward, placing her hands on Maa's shoulders, turning her gently. I stepped back, my heart pounding. Bhabhi knelt down in front of Maa, her hands holding Maa's tightly, her voice soft and firm, like she was making a promise right there.

I just stood there, frozen, not knowing what to do, what to say. Bhabhi's voice was soft but so firm, and her eyes were filled with a kind of strength I had never noticed before.

"Hum apne Maa baap pe bhoj the tab 20 ki umar me shadi kar di. Par meri Noorie, wo hum pe bhoj nahi hai maa. Hume Doctor sahab pe bharosa hai. Wo Noorie ko kuch galat nahi hone denge. Par bhagwan na kare kuch hota bhi hai to Zindagi bhar Apni nand ki bitha ke khilaunge," she said, her hands holding onto Maa's shoulders tightly.

(We were a burden to our parents, so they married me off at 20. But my Noorie, she is not a burden on us, Maa. I trust Doctor Sahab. He won't let anything bad happen to Noorie. But God forbid, even if something does happen, I will feed my sister-in-law for life and take care of her myself.)

I looked at her, confused. I didn't know which lady they were talking about. I saw her eyes soften. I took a step back, watching them both.

I couldn't move. I just stood there watching. My mind felt like it was shutting down. Words came from Bhabhi's mouth, soft and steady, "Shadi kar di apne Noorie ki papa ji ke Karan par. Par kal ho ke jo bhi din dikhaye bhagwan, Noor tab bhi iss ghar ki beti rhengi."

(You married Noor because of Papaji. But whatever days God shows us in the future, Noor will always remain the daughter of this house.)

My eyes burned, and I felt tears gather at the corners. I always knew Bhabhi loved me. She didn't just see me as a sister-in-law; she treated me like a sister, even a friend.

But watching her now, watching how she consoled Maa, how she promised things, my heart squeezed painfully. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. They rolled down my cheeks, warm and heavy, as I looked at the woman who had always been by my side.

Bhabhi's voice came again, strong and unyielding, "Bua ke kehne pe naa Noor parayi hui hai na inka hak katam hua hai. Inhone Noor ko apni beti ki tarah pyar kiya hai. Itna bharosa rakhiye Maa. Jitni Noor aapko pyari hai, Hume bhi hai."

(Just because Bua said so, Noor is not separate from us, nor has her right been taken away. My husband has loved Noor like her own daughter. Have that much faith, Maa. Noor is just as precious to us as she is to you.)

I couldn't breathe for a moment. The way Bhabhi spoke, the way she looked at Maa, it felt like she was fighting for me, protecting me in a way I hadn't even known I needed. I wiped my tears with my dupatta, my hands shaking just a little.

And I just stood there, feeling things I couldn't even put into words, watching Bhabhi hold Maa's hands with such strength, such promise. I had never felt more loved. I had never felt more like a daughter in this house.

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. But my heart... it spoke a thousand things.

I stood there, my hands still resting on the chair's wooden edge. My bhabhi's voice still echoed in my ears, her words heavy with love and promises. My mother sat quietly now, her eyes cast down as if she were searching for strength in the patterns of the floor.

"Maa..." I whispered, my voice barely a breath. She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed but steady. I took a step closer, but before I could speak, she reached out, grasping my hands with a strength I didn't know she still had.

"Beta... samajh, samay rahte kuch faisle lene padte hain," she said, her voice shaking. (Daughter... understand, sometimes decisions have to be made at the right time.)

I blinked, my mind grasping at her words.

She took a deep breath, her fingers clutching mine tighter. "Teri bua aayi thi kal," she said slowly, her eyes flickering towards the window as if afraid someone might hear.
(Your aunt came yesterday.)

I stiffened, memories of my bua's sharp tongue and even sharper eyes flooding back. "Bua... kyun?" I asked, my voice cautious. (Aunt... why?)

My mother looked away, her hands slipping from mine. "Woh keh rahi thi... tumhare papa bimaar hain," she began, her voice cracking.
(She was saying... your father is sick.)

My heart pounded. "Toh?" I whispered, barely able to speak. (Then?)

"Toh ki wo b-bare ghar ka hai. Wo log pyar nahi karte,balki sauda karte hai Siddharth tumhe chhod dega, agar kuch uch nich hui to" she finally said, her voice a whisper, barely audible.

(That ki, he's a big personality. They don't do love, they do business. Siddharth will leave you. If something bad happened.)

I took a step back, my hands slipping from hers. Her words hung in the air, thick and suffocating. "Aap... aap aisa kaise keh sakti hain Sidharth ji ke bare me?"" I asked, my voice shaking.

(How... how can you say that about Siddharth ji?)

Her eyes glistened with fresh tears. "Main nahi keh rahi beta... teri bua ne kaha. Keh rahi thi... agar bacha nahi hua... toh log bhi kehne lagenge... aur tumhare papa... woh seh nahi paayenge."

(I'm not saying it, dear... your aunt said it. She was saying... if there is no child... then people will start talking... and your father... he won't be able to bear it.)

My chest tightened, my thoughts spinning. How could Bua say such things? How could she plant such fears in my mother's mind when she was already burdened with worry?

"Aapne... aapne kuch kaha nahi?" I asked, my voice cracking.

(Didn't you say anything?)

My mother looked down, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her dupatta

"Kehne ko kya tha beta? Baat samajhne ki thi... samay rahte..."

(What was there to say, dear? It was something to understand... at the right time...)

I took a shaky breath, my heart aching for her, for myself. But before I could speak, I heard it. His voice, firm and steady.

"Noor."

I went still, the sound of my name like a command, holding me in place. My eyes darted to the door, and there he was. Sidharth ji. He stood there, framed by the doorway, his expression unreadable, his eyes sharp and unwavering.

I swallowed, my hands clenching the edge of my dupatta. He stepped inside, his gaze moving from me to my mother, lingering there for a moment longer than I was comfortable with. I held my breath, a sudden fear clutching my heart.

What had he heard? What did he know?

"A-Aap..." I whispered, the words barely leaving my lips.

He walked towards us, each step measured and firm, the tension in the room thickening with every inch he closed. I could feel my heart beating hard against my ribs, my fingers curling tighter into the fabric of my pallu as I waited for him to speak.

He was standing right there, not too far, not too close, just enough for his presence to settle the air around me.

His eyes, steady and unyielding, looked straight at me, and for the first time in days, I couldn't bring myself to meet them. My gaze dropped to my hands, fingers nervously twisting the edge of my pallu. I wasn't scared of him-no, not him-but I was scared of what he might have heard. I knew Siddharth ji; I knew how deeply he cared for ma for me, for this entire family.

If he heard Amma's words, what would he think? Would he misunderstand? Would he believe that she didn't trust him?

My heart squeezed painfully at the thought. Sidharth ji was many things-serious, sometimes unreadable-but I knew his heart. I knew how he carried everyone's burdens without saying a word, how he held respect like it was a part of him. If he thought, even for a moment, that ma didn't believe in him, it would hurt him. I knew it would.

"Saare certificate check kar liye apne? Kuch chhoot to nahi raha?"
(Have you checked all the certificates? Is there anything left out?)

His voice was gentle, so gentle that it almost felt like a whisper, yet it reached me like a promise. My eyes snapped up, and I found him looking at me, really looking at me. His eyes held that softness I'd grown to recognize-like the calm before the rain. There was no trace of anger, no question lingering in his gaze, just that familiar warmth that always made my heart steady itself.

My breath escaped me, a shaky thing that I hadn't realized I was holding. My shoulders loosened, the knot in my chest unwinding slowly. He didn't hear. He didn't hear anything.

I almost smiled back, my heart thudding with a relief so strong it felt like I could float. I parted my lips to say something-but ma's voice cut through the stillness.

"Certificates?"

Sidharth ji's eyes flickered to her, his grip still firm and warm around my hand, fingers intertwined like they belonged there. He didn't let go-not even when he turned slightly towards ma. I saw it then, the way his eyes softened, his lips curling into the slightest smile. That look of his that spoke of promises not yet made, of words not yet spoken, but always understood.

"Haan, wo kal Noor ka admission karwana hai. Unki aage ki padhayi ke liye."
(Yes, tomorrow is Noor's admission. For her further studies.)

My heart stopped for a moment, just a heartbeat's pause, before it picked up again, faster, louder.

My mother's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise. She looked at him as if she couldn't understand his words. "Padhayi?" she whispered, almost breathless. (Studies?)

Sidharth ji smiled again, that calmness never leaving his face.

Author's pov-

He looked at her mother with that calmness that I had grown to recognize-like a storm quietly waiting on the edge of the horizon. I knew there was something cooking in his mind. His eyes, steady and unblinking, rested on her with a softness that only I had the privilege of knowing. My Siddharth ji was not one to show his thoughts easily, but I could always feel them, even when he stayed silent.

His gaze flickered to me, and there was a small smile-barely there, but it was enough to make my heart steady. He took a step forward, his hand still holding mine as if he didn't trust the distance between us.

"Bataya nahi apne aunty ko?" he asked, his voice gentle but firm, a hint of amusement playing at the edges.

(Didn't you tell aunty?)

My eyes shot up to his, His eyes held that softness again, the one that made me forget how to speak. I shook my head slowly, my heart drumming a rhythm only I could hear. His gaze stayed on mine for a moment longer before he turned back to ma, whose posture had straightened, her expression unreadable. Behind her, Bhabhi stood with wide eyes, her hand clutching the edge of her dupatta tightly.

Siddharth ji looked down at my mother, his expression still calm but edged with something I couldn't place.

"Teacher ban-na chahti hai meri Noor. Tab padhai to puri karni hogi," he said, his tone so gentle and innocent that for a second, I thought he was truly just informing her, like it was a simple fact that needed no more discussion.

(My Noor wants to become a teacher. So, she must complete her studies.)

I could see the flicker of surprise cross ma's face. Her eyes darted to me, then back to Sidharth ji, and there was something there-something that looked like shock. I couldn't understand it.

"Shaadi ke baad, padhai ki kya zaroorat hai?" she asked, her tone questioning. I flinched, the words settling in my heart with a dull ache.

(After marriage, what is the need for studying?)

I couldn't help but look up at her, my heart squeezing painfully. This was the same woman who used to tell me to balance my books with the ladle, to dream even when my hands were too tired to hold a pen. When did that change? When did Amma forget the dreams she used to whisper to me?

Ma was the one who always pushed me to study, even if it meant finishing my chores late into the night. I remember her voice whispering in the dark, telling me to light the lantern and read a few more pages. She never stopped me from studying, but now...now her face held something I couldn't recognize.

Before I could say anything, I heard Sidharth ji chuckle softly beside me. It was a low, almost amused sound that made me turn to him. His eyes were bright with something I couldn't name, and there was that smile again-soft but knowing.

He looked at me first, and then back at ma. The smile slowly vanished, replaced by an expression so calm it sent chills down my spine.

"Zaroorat?" he repeated, his voice still gentle but carrying a weight that made the room fall silent.

(Need?)

He paused, just for a moment, his eyes locked on ma's.

"Zaroorat hai kyunki zindagi inki hai, inka ek sapna hai, aur unhe apne sapne poore karne ka poora haq hai." He said, his voice strong and unyielding. His hand squeezed mine gently, and I couldn't help but look up at him, my heart swelling with emotions I couldn't name.

("It's necessary because this is her life, and she has a dream, and she has every right to fulfill it.)

He paused again, turning to look at me, and there was that smile again, soft and protective.

"Is beech na kisi doosre ka bolne ka haq hai na kisi teesre ki baat ko inpe kisi baat ka dabaav daalne ka, aur Jab tak main hoon, zaroorat aane bhi nahi dunga."

(In this matter, there is no need for anyone else to speak or make decisions for her. And As long as I am here, I won't let the need arise.)

My breath hitched, and I felt the warmth spread through my chest like sunlight. His words wrapped around me, soft and unyielding, promising things that I hadn't even dared to wish for.

I looked up at him, and I could see it-the quiet strength in his eyes, the promise etched in every word he spoke. He wasn't just saying it; he meant it. And for the first time, I saw ma look away, her eyes dropping to the floor, her hand clutching her dupatta tighter.

I couldn't speak. My throat was tight with emotions I didn't know how to name. But I knew one thing-Sidharth ji wasn't just my husband; he was my shield, my voice when I couldn't speak, my strength when I couldn't stand.

Silence lingered in the room, thick and heavy, as if even the walls had absorbed the weight of Sidharth's words. Noor's gaze remained fixed on him, her heart drumming steadily in her chest, a rhythm only she could hear. Before her mother could find her voice, a sudden urgency cut through the silence.

"Sahi keh rahe doctor sahab, Maa. Noor ki zindagi hai yeh. Faisle inhe lene hain, kisi aur ko nahi. Ab chaliye aap," her bhabhi's voice rang out, gentle yet firm, the finality in her tone unmistakable.

("Doctor sahab is right, Maa. This is Noor's life. She has to make her own decisions, no one else. Now let's go.")

Her mother seemed to falter, the strength of old beliefs crashing against the unyielding wall Sidharth had built with mere words. But before she could object, her bhabhi's hand slipped into hers, gently pulling her away. Her mother cast one last look at Noor, a mix of lingering disbelief and reluctant acceptance, before she followed, step by step, towards the door.

"Main chai bhejwaati hoon aapke liye," her bhabhi added with a soft smile, her voice like a balm to the tension that had simmered moments ago. ("I'll send some tea for you.")

The door clicked shut behind them, the sound echoing briefly before silence reclaimed its hold. Noor watched them leave, her mind swirling with the weight of Sidharth's words, the way he had held his ground-not just for her, but with her. Her thoughts tangled and untangled in a thousand directions, and just as she moved to follow her bhabhi, a gentle but firm grip circled her wrist.

She paused, her breath catching, and turned to find Sidharth's hand around her wrist, his touch familiar yet electric. His eyes held hers, a softness swimming in their depths, and before she could speak, he pulled her back-gently, insistently, until the space between them vanished.

His arms rounded her frame, warm and protective, drawing her into him with a tenderness that felt like home. Noor's eyes widened, a soft gasp slipping past her lips as she stumbled slightly against his chest, her palms pressed against the steady rise and fall of his heartbeat. For a second, she was still, almost suspended in disbelief, before the warmth seeped in-his warmth, his scent, the solidness of him.

A slow smile blossomed on her lips, delicate and pure, as her hands moved instinctively, curling around his back, pulling herself closer. His embrace tightened, one hand splayed against the curve of her back, the other resting at the nape of her neck, fingers tangled in the strands of her hair. Noor's head found its place against his chest, and she could hear it-the steady thump of his heart, strong and unwavering, a rhythm that promised safety, that spoke of home.

Neither spoke. Words felt too sharp for a moment so soft, so tender. It was the language of touch, of presence. Sidharth's hand moved slowly, tracing comforting circles along her back, his breath warm against her hair. Noor closed her eyes, surrendering to the calmness that washed over her, her grip around him tightening ever so slightly, as if afraid to let go.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. His eyes were soft, unguarded, filled with something unspoken yet deeply felt.

"Sab theek hai?" he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper.
("Is everything alright?")

Noor's smile grew, her eyes shimmering with the weight of everything she couldn't say. "Sab theek hai," she replied, her voice soft and certain. ("Everything is alright.")

His thumb brushed against her cheek in a tender gesture before he leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against hers. For that moment, there was nothing else-just him, just her, just the quiet understanding that no matter what came their way, this was their truth. Strong, unbreakable, and entirely theirs.

Siddharth pulled her closer, his hands firm around her waist, the warmth of his touch seeping through the fabric of her saree. Noor's hands pressed gently against his back, her fingers curling into the soft material of his shirt. The room was silent, only their breaths mingling in the soft light filtering through the curtains.

He dipped his head slowly, his face finding the curve of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. Noor shivered slightly, her hold on him tightening instinctively.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just above his collar. Sidharth's grip on her waist grew stronger, pulling her even closer as if afraid she might slip away. The silence wrapped around them like a secret, the unspoken feelings held between their hearts.

Her hands gently rubbed circles on his back, the soothing motion melting away the tension in his muscles. She hesitated for a moment before asking softly, "Baat ho gayi papa se aapki?"
(Did you talk to Papa?)

Sidharth's breath stilled for a second before he answered, "Hmm," the deep vibration of his voice sent a shiver through her, and she couldn't help but smile at his warmth. He sounded tired, his words heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts. Noor's heart ached at the sound, her hands moving gently over his back, offering silent comfort.

Before either of them could speak further, there was a knock at the door. Siddharth groaned softly, the sound vibrating against her neck, but he didn't let go. He held her a moment longer, his hands refusing to loosen, his face still nestled in the crook of her neck. Noor's hands moved soothingly over his back, a soft smile on her lips as she whispered, "Chhodiye, koi aaya hai."
(Let go, someone is here.)

He pulled back reluctantly, his hands still resting on her waist for a moment longer before he finally stepped back. Noor straightened her saree and moved towards the door, the soft smile still playing on her lips. She opened it to find her bhabhi standing there, her eyes filled with concern.

"Doctor sahab ne sab sun liya kya?" her bhabhi asked hurriedly, her tone laced with worry.
(Did Doctor Sahab hear everything?)

Noor blinked in surprise, her smile fading as she shook her head. "Pata nahi," she whispered back.
(I don't know.)

Her bhabhi sighed, glancing back over her shoulder before muttering under her breath, "Ma bhi na... bua ki baaton mein aajati hai."
(Mother... she always gets influenced by Bua's words.)

Noor nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. She knew her Bua too well, knew the poison that dripped from her words, the manipulation that always found its way back to her mother's ears. But who would make her understand?

Her bhabhi squeezed her hand gently, offering a small smile & the tray of tea.

Noor closed the door behind them and turned back to find Sidharth sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped together, his gaze distant.

Her heart clenched at the sight. Was he thinking about what her mother had said? The worry crept back into her chest, and she swallowed hard before moving towards him, her steps soft and measured. She placed the tea on the table and sat down in front of him, watching his face closely.

He was staring at the wall, his eyes fixed on a photograph-a childhood picture of Noor in a soft pink frock, her smile bright and eyes shining with innocence. Sidharth's gaze softened, his fingers rubbing together absently as he stared at the image. Noor followed his gaze, her heart fluttering slightly at the sight.

She tried to break the silence, her voice soft and careful. "Woh... chai kaisi hai?"
(How is the tea?)

Sidharth looked up, his eyes lingering on her face before drifting to her lips. His gaze paused there, noting the difference. It wasn't the red shade she usually wore. Today, it was a softer pink, delicate and sweet, matching the memory of that little girl in the photograph.

It made her lips look fuller, softer, and for a moment, he couldn't look away. His throat dried slightly as she took another sip, her lips pressing against the edge of the cup, the warm liquid touching her tongue.

Noor noticed his gaze and blinked, tilting her head slightly. "Kya hua?"
(What happened?)

He shook his head slightly, his gaze still fixed on her. "Kuch nahi...
(Nothing..)

Noor sipped her tea slowly, her eyes catching Siddharth's gaze once again. His hand moved instinctively towards her, his fingers lightly brushing against her cup before his eyes locked on her lips.

She took another sip, unaware of the intensity building inside him, but the movement was enough to make his throat dry.

His breath caught in his chest as he watched her, the urge to press his lips to hers overwhelming. His fingers itched to feel her close, to kiss those lips until that pink lipstick was gone, leaving only the taste of her.

Sidharth couldn't help it. His hand moved to the top buttons of his shirt, slowly undoing them, as if the simple act of drawing in a breath was becoming harder and harder. The thought of kissing her was too strong, too consuming. The desire to have her, to ravish her lips, was something he couldn't ignore.

But he was controlling himself. He didn't want to ruin this moment, this delicate space between them. He couldn't let his hunger take over, not here, not in her parents' house where memories of her childhood lingered in the air.

Still, the urge didn't fade. His eyes followed her hand as she raised her cup, taking another sip, and his lips parted instinctively, as if tasting her sweetness in the air. His thoughts began to spiral, obsessive, nearly unhinged, but he kept it under control. Just barely.

He groaned softly, barely audible, and it was enough to make the air between them feel thick with tension. The space between them felt electric now, charged with the need to bridge it, to close the gap. Sidharth couldn't help but lick his lips, his gaze never leaving her.

With a sudden movement, he reached for the cup she was holding, gently taking it from her hand and setting it aside on the bed. In the same swift motion, he pulled her towards him, his hands firm on her waist as he drew her close.

"You tease me a lot, cherry," he muttered under his breath, his voice rough, his grip tightening around her. Before she could respond, he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer, as if he could never get enough.

Noor's heart raced in her chest as she melted into the kiss, not resisting, but her breath coming in short gasps. She could feel the heat between them, could feel the way their bodies were drawn to each other like magnets. His lips moved against hers, firm and possessive, but there was a tenderness there too, a care that she couldn't ignore.

When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard, the air between them thick with the intensity of what had just happened. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence, only their racing hearts filling the space.

Siddharth's gaze softened, and he leaned in, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his voice quieter now.

"Ghar chale?"
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SIDDHARTH'S POV -

Her hand was soft beneath mine, our fingers tangled together as if they were made to fit. I couldn't stop looking at her. Every few seconds, my eyes would flicker to her face. Her lashes, long and curled, kissed the tops of her cheeks. Her lips, still painted with that pink lipstick, were pressed together in thought. I knew she was thinking about it-what her mother said, what her bua tried to plant in her mind.

I heard everything. Every word.

I don't want to but I did.

How her mother was pushed to think that having a child would keep me here, as if I needed a reason to stay. As if my Cherry wasn't reason enough. It made my blood boil. How dare anyone decide for us? How dare they think I would leave? Leaving Noor was like leaving my breath, my heartbeat. It was like tearing my own soul apart.

How could her mother not understand that Noor is my lifeline? My world? I can't imagine a single hour without her. A single breath feels heavy if she's not around. And they think I would leave? My hands tightened around the steering wheel as I remembered their words. I wanted to go back and tell them. Tell them that they don't get to decide for her. For us.

But I kept my mouth shut. For her. Because I know my Cherry wouldn't like it. I wouldn't disrespect her mother-not even with words. Not even when I'm angry. If Noor won't like it, I won't do it. It's as simple as that. Her happiness is my command. Her peace is my purpose.

I could feel her eyes on me. She knew I heard it. She knew I was angry. Her hands squeezed mine a little, like she was trying to calm me down, but all it did was make my heart twist more. How can I let her compromise? What kind of man would I be if my wife has to bow down in life while I'm still breathing? No. Not my Cherry. Not while I'm here. I'll burn the world down before I let that happen.

I took a deep breath, loosening my grip on the wheel, and pulled the car to a stop in front of our house. The gates opened slowly, but I was still staring at her, my Cherry, my Noor. How delicate she looked, but how strong she was. And she was mine. Only mine.

I brought her hand up to my lips, pressing a kiss on the back of her hand. Her lips curled into a soft smile, and I felt my heart ache. My Noor. My Cherry. I would make sure she never has to compromise. I would make sure no one decides for her. Not her mother. Not her bua. Not anyone. That right belongs to her. Only her.

I watched her smile as my lips touched her hand, her eyes meeting mine with that softness I could drown in. My fingers squeezed hers gently, unwilling to let go. How could I? How could I even think of it? Her smile was my peace; her touch, my purpose. I lingered there for a moment, feeling the warmth of her skin against my lips, wishing I could stay like this forever. My Cherry. My everything.

The car sat still, the engine purring low, but I couldn't bring myself to move. Her hand in mine was an anchor, grounding me to this moment, reminding me of everything I'd burn the world for. I looked up, catching the soft blush creeping onto her cheeks. She tried to look away, but I didn't let her. My thumb brushed over her knuckles, slow and gentle, and her breath hitched just a little. I saw it. Felt it.

"Chalein?" I murmured, & watched her nod, her smile growing just a bit wider, and I knew ..I would do anything for this woman. Anything.

I squeezed her hand one last time before I pulled back, starting the engine again. But I couldn't stop glancing her way, couldn't stop feeling the warmth of her hand still lingering on my lips. Noor was mine. My Cherry. My world.

Sidharth stepped out of the car, his eyes instantly catching the familiar car parked in his front yard. He knew whose it was without even a second thought. His jaw clenched slightly, and he let out a low groan that made Noor, who was walking behind him, look up with questioning eyes.

Her soft gaze caught his attention, and she raised her eyebrows in silent inquiry. Siddharth shook his head, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

She is the only one who keeps him in check. Because right now, he know that idiot is inside, waiting to mess with his head.

He muttered under his breath, "That idiot is going to fuck my brain."

Noor's lips curled into a small smile, her cheeks warming at his words. She has seem how he got when Abhimanyu was around, the only person who could challenge Siddharth's calmness.

As they walked inside, the living room came into view, and there he was-Abhimanyu. He was sprawled out on the sofa, his head resting comfortably on Sidharth's mother's lap while she fed him some sweets. Abhimanyu looked like he belonged there, eyes closed and lips chewing slowly as if he hadn't eaten in days.

Siddharth couldn't help but close his eyes for a moment, collecting himself. Drama.

Abhimanyu's eyes opened just as Siddharth and Noor entered. His gaze landed on them, and his lips curled into a grin. He sat up, brushing crumbs off his shirt before stretching his arms like he owned the place.

A woman nearby smirked, calling out, "Aa gaye Doctor Sahab!"
(The doctor is here!)

Abhimanyu shot up from the sofa, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Siddharth simply shook his head, barely able to suppress the smile tugging at his lips. He knew what was coming.

Abhimanyu stepped forward, his hands joining in a playful greeting. He bent slightly, giving Noor a wide, dramatic smile. "Namaste, Bhabhi! Main iska dost Abhimanyu," he said, voice filled with cheer.
("Hello, sister-in-law! I am his friend, Abhimanyu.")

Noor blinked at him, a bit taken aback by his energy but offered a polite smile. Before she could say anything, Siddharth's brother appeared from the hallway, hands clapping together. "Aap Bhabhi se mile nahi ab tak, Abhimanyu Bhai?"

("You haven't met Bhabhi yet, Abhimanyu Bhai?")

Siddharth shot a smirk at Abhimanyu, and Abhimanyu, not missing a beat, glanced at Siddharth before looking back at Noor. He put his hands together again and with mock seriousness said, "Nahi, hum toh pehli baar mil rahe hain,"
("No, we are meeting for the first time.")

Noor couldn't help but smile, her gaze dropping shyly while Siddharth just shook his head, the silent message between him and Abhimanyu passing in a heartbeat.

The room buzzed with light laughter, and Siddharth took Noor's hand, pulling her a little closer, as if shielding her from Abhimanyu's antics. He didn't say it, but she could feel it in his grip. Noor was his, and not even Abhimanyu's teasing could change that.

But the grin on Abhimanyu's face said one thing-he wasn't done yet.

Abhimanyu's grin only grew wider as he leaned back against the sofa, stretching his legs comfortably. Siddharth raised an eyebrow at him. "Yahan bhi danga machane ka irada hai kya?"
("You planning to create chaos here too?")

he asked, voice low but laced with sarcasm.

Abhimanyu chuckled, eyes flickering with mischief.

"Bhai, tumhari zindagi mein thoda rang na daalun toh mera kaam kaise chalega?"
("Brother, if I don't add some color to your life, how will my work continue?")

Siddharth rolled his eyes, but Noor couldn't hide her smile.

Abhimanyu's gaze then shifted to Noor. "Toh bhabhi, kaise lag raha hai Doctor Sahab ke saath rehna? Dimag thoda zyada khata hai na?"
("So, sister-in-law, how does it feel to live with Doctor Sahab? He eats your brain a bit too much, right?")

Noor's eyes widened slightly, cheeks flushing as she looked down, a small laugh escaping her lips. Siddharth's hand slipped around her waist, pulling her closer.

"Tumse kam,"
("Less than you,")

he shot back instantly, making Abhimanyu laugh out loud.

Siddharth's mother watched the scene with a smile, shaking her head. It was always like this-fire and banter, chaos and comfort. And Siddharth wouldn't have it any other way.
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Noor gently rose from the couch, her hand slipping away from Siddharth's grip, but not before he gave her a questioning look. His eyes softened, the unspoken words lingering in the air, asking where she was going. She just shook her head with a small smile, mouthing,

"Bas paani lene."
(Just getting some water.)

His fingers hesitated before letting go, his gaze following her as she walked away, the soft clinking of her bangles the only sound that broke the silence.

Siddharth's eyes lingered on her retreating form, his gaze fixed even as she disappeared into the kitchen. He turned back slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips before he looked over at Abhimanyu, who had settled into the seat across from him. Leaning back, Siddharth raised an eyebrow.

"Aaj idar kaise?"
(How come you're here today?)

he asked casually, his voice carrying a hint of surprise.

Abhimanyu was about to reply when Noor reappeared, balancing a tray of snacks and water. Her steps were careful, graceful, as if she belonged in that very moment, holding a piece of their shared world. She placed the tray on the table and straightened up, brushing her pallu aside before she moved to leave.

But Siddharth's hand shot out, his fingers curling gently around her wrist. "Baithiye."
(Sit down.)

He whispered, his voice low and certain, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Kaam karne ko aur log hain."
(There are others to do the work.)

Her cheeks turned pink, the blush spreading as she lowered herself beside him. The simplicity of his command, the tenderness in his eyes-it was all too much, especially with everyone watching. She kept her gaze down, fiddling with the edge of her dupatta, while Siddharth's hand stayed just a little closer than necessary.

Veer walked in then, dusting off his hands before plopping down on the floor with a thud. His back rested against the side of the sofa, legs stretched out. Adarsh followed, mirroring his brother's actions, both choosing the floor instead of the empty seats beside them.

Noor blinked, surprise flickering across her face. "Bhaiya, neeche kyun baith gaye? Adarsh, aap bhi?"
(Why are you sitting on the floor? Adarsh, you too?)

she asked, her voice soft but puzzled.
Veer just shook his head with a grin, while Adarsh looked up, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Aap upar baithi hain bhabhi, issliye hum neeche baith gaye."
(You're sitting above us, bhabhi, so we chose the floor.)

The words, spoken so simply, carried a weight of respect, an unspoken tradition that Noor could feel in her bones. Her cheeks flushed deeper, the warmth spreading as she looked away.

Abhimanyu raised an eyebrow, glancing between the brothers before reaching out to smack Adarsh lightly on the back of his head.

"Bhabhi ka chamcha ban gaye aap toh, Adarsh babu."
(You've become quite the follower of bhabhi, Adarsh.)

Adarsh rubbed the back of his head, pretending to wince before he shot Abhimanyu a challenging look.

"Haan toh, mere Sakt laude wali personality wale Bhai jab joru ke gulam ho sakte hain, toh main toh phir bhi nanha bacha hoon."

(Well, if my strong, stubborn brother can become his wife's servant, then I'm just a little kid in comparison.)

The room burst into laughter, the sound rich and full, filling every corner with joy. Noor's cheeks were impossibly red now, her eyes darting to Siddharth who was simply watching, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Joru ka gulam hoon toh inke liye hoon,"
(I'm her servant only for her.)

Siddharth interrupted, his voice casual, almost too casual.

"Tere liye woh Sakt launda ab bhi zinda hai. Dikhau?"
(For you, that strong-headed guy is still alive. Want me to show you?)

Noor's eyes widened, her cheeks blazing with heat. Siddharth's easy acceptance of the teasing, his unapologetic affection-it left her speechless.

Before she could react, laughter erupted again, Adarsh immediately shaking his head. "Nahi, nahi Bhai," he laughed, waving his hands. "Mujhe yakeen hai!"

(No, no Bhai! I believe you!)

Noor tried to get up, her fingers trembling with embarrassment, but Siddharth's hand tightened around hers, not letting her leave. She looked up at him, her eyes helpless, but he only turned slightly, winking at her, the gesture sending her heart into a frenzy.

The room quieted a bit, only for Abhimanyu to clear his throat loudly.

All eyes turned to him as he straightened his back, his expression suddenly serious.

"Okay, guys. Ek hafte mein shaadi hai meri."
(Okay, guys. I'm getting married in a week.)

Silence crashed into the room like a wave, eyes wide, mouths slightly open. The air was thick with disbelief, the weight of his words settling in as the shock rippled through each of them.
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I stood before the mirror, the cool bristles of the comb sliding through my hair, each stroke a rhythm that calmed my restless thoughts. Abhimanyu had left, and Siddharth ji had gone to see him off. The room was quiet now, still and unmoving, except for the faint whisper of the curtains swaying with the night's breeze.

My mother's words clung to my mind like stubborn threads, refusing to unravel. Her voice had been soft yet firm, laced with unspoken worry. Three months of marriage, she had said, and I had yet to think about children. Her tone was gentle, but her eyes-those eyes that hid so many burdens-had reflected something deeper. Fear. Fear that Siddharth ji might...that he might leave me someday. That he might grow weary of my silence, my shyness, my inability to bridge the space between us.

I knew her fears came from love, from a place of protection. But still, it hurt. How could Bua poison her mind like that? When Baba was fighting his own battle with his health, how could she plant seeds of doubt in Ma's heart? It was insensitive...cruel even. I bit my lip, staring at my own reflection. My eyes looked tired, heavy with the weight of thoughts that I couldn't voice out loud.

Was it the right time? To think of children? I'd never even considered it. Our marriage was still new, fragile in its infancy, and yet the world seemed to expect me to run before I'd even learned to walk. My fingers tightened around the comb as I stared at my reflection, searching for answers in my own eyes. I loved him-I knew that much. Loved him with a kind of quiet certainty that settled in my bones. But children? A family? The thought was too big, too vast to grasp in one breath.

The comb stilled in my hand as my thoughts tangled together. And then, like a whisper against my skin, I felt it. Warm. Solid. Familiar. His arms wrapped around me from behind, drawing me back into him, and a gasp slipped from my lips. I hadn't even heard him come in. I was too lost in my own mind, too far adrift to notice the soft tread of his footsteps.

His chest was warm against my back, strong and steady. I let my eyes flutter shut for a moment, feeling the solid weight of him, the unyielding comfort of his hold. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. His presence alone was enough to tether me back to the room, back to him.

A shiver ran down my spine when his face dipped, his lips pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the base of my neck. My breath caught, my eyes flying open to meet his gaze in the mirror. He held me there, silently watching, his eyes soft but searching. I swallowed, my heart stumbling over itself as I leaned back, giving him my weight, feeling the way his arms tightened just a bit more in response.

In the reflection, I could see my own eyes-wide and unblinking, still clouded with thoughts I couldn't escape. But he kissed me again, right where my neck met my shoulder, slower this time, as if he was trying to erase whatever shadows lingered there.

I leaned my head back against his shoulder, the comb slipping from my fingers onto the dresser with a quiet thud. His hold didn't falter, his hands splayed against my waist, grounding me.

We stayed like that for a moment-maybe longer. I wasn't counting the seconds, only the way his breathing felt against my back, the way his heartbeat thrummed steadily against me. But when I opened my eyes again, I found him watching me, his gaze locked with mine through the mirror's reflection.

"Kya hua, Cherry?" His voice was a whisper, low and familiar. "Kya soch rahi hai?"
(What happened Cherry? What are you thinking?")

I shook my head, closing my eyes, resting my head against his chest as his arms held me tighter. For a moment, I just breathed him in-his warmth, his scent, the solidity of him that reminded me he was here. With me. Not somewhere else. Not with someone else.

I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze again in the mirror. My throat bobbed with the words that were suddenly too heavy, too sharp. I swallowed once before finding the strength to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Apne Maa ki baatein sab sun hi hain na?"
(You have heard what my mother saying. Haven't you?")

Siddharth took a small step back, his hands still gently resting on her shoulders. His touch was soft but firm as he slowly turned Noor around to face him. Her eyes blinked in surprise, but she didn't resist. His hands stayed where they were, grounding her in the moment, his gaze searching hers.

"Hm, sun li thi?" His voice was low, just above a whisper, yet it carried all the weight of his understanding.
(Yes, I heard everything)

Noor sucked in a deep breath, her eyes falling to the floor, unable to meet his. Shame crept up her cheeks, warming her face. She knew her mother's words had come from a place of fear, but it still stung. What would he think? What kind of impression had her mother left on him with such a conversation?

How could her bua say such things to her mother, poison her mind with such fear, especially when her father was already fighting his own battle? It wasn't right.

Her thoughts tumbled over each other, messy and unkind, and she almost didn't notice the gentle touch of his finger under her chin. His touch was delicate, guiding her face up, lifting her eyes to meet his. Noor hesitated, her lashes fluttering before she finally looked up, her gaze catching his. His eyes were calm, steady-like the ocean at dawn. Before she could think, before she could turn away, he leaned in, his lips pressing a soft, tender kiss to the bridge of her nose.

"Aapko bura laga?" She asked, her voice soft and patient, his eyes still locked on hers. There was no judgment there, only understanding. Noor swallowed hard, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. She blinked, trying to find something to say, something to explain, but nothing felt right. Siddharth watched her, his gaze never faltering.
(Did you feel bad?)

"Hmm... laga tha," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
(Yes)

Her mouth opened, words bubbling up, but before she could speak, he leaned in again, his lips capturing hers in a soft, lingering kiss. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly against her skin. When he pulled back, there was a gentle smile playing on his lips.

"Yeh dekh kar ki meri Noor ko dusro ke karan khud ke log kitni pareshani de rahe hain," he said softly, his hand still holding her cheek, his thumb now wiping away the tension from her brow.

(By Seeing that my Noor is being troubled by her own people because of others...")

His eyes were gentle, filled with a softness that melted away the last bits of her worry. He held her gaze, the silence stretching out between them, tender and unspoken.

"Yeh dekh kar ki aap tab bhi khud ke liye stand nahi le rahi jab aap jaanti hain ki woh galat hain," he continued, his tone patient, as if he were trying to teach her something important, something that went beyond mere words.

("Seeing that even now, you're not standing up for yourself when you know they're wrong...")

Noor's eyes dropped again, guilt pooling in her stomach. He was right. She knew he was right. Her mother had been wrong to say those things, and she had been wrong to not stand up for herself, to not speak up. Her lips parted, a whisper escaping before she could stop it.

"Humne kabhi Maa ko jawab nahi diya..." Her voice was so soft, she wondered if he had even heard her.
(I never back answered Maa)

But he had. Siddharth's eyes softened even more, something deep and protective flickering across his face. He cupped her cheeks fully now, his touch gentle but grounding. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, his breath warm and steady against her lips.

"Baat jawab dene ki nahi hai, Cherry. Baat khud ke liye bolne ki hai," he murmured, his voice strong but kind. "Manta hoon, bado ka jawab dena galat hai, par unhein unki galti par bhi chup rehna usse zyada galat hai."

("It's not about answering back, Cherry. It's about speaking up for yourself.")
("Yes, I believe we shouldn't argue with elders... but letting them stay blind to their mistakes in the name of respect-that silence hurts more.")

Noor's eyes blinked open, her gaze meeting his. Their foreheads were still pressed together, breaths mingling in the silence. He pulled back slightly, just enough to look her in the eyes, and then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Aur yaad rakhiyega," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, "aap Noor Siddharth Singh Rajvardhan hain. Khud ki aur meri zindagi ki maalkin. Aap galat bhi hongi to yeh dil aur dimaag aapke liye hi bolega."

(And remember,You are Noor Siddharth Singh Rajvardhan... the one who rules not just her life, but mine too. Even if the world calls you wrong, this heart, this mind... they will always stand by you. Only you.)

His words wrapped around her heart, settling deep within her chest. He leaned back just a little, his eyes still locked with hers. Gently, he pressed a kiss to her nose, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

"To khud ke liye bolna seekhiye, Noor. Hmm?"

(So learn how to take stand for yourself Noor. Hmm?)

His hands were still on her cheeks, warm and grounding. Noor felt something twist in her heart-something heavy, something real. She opened her mouth, the words slipping out before she could think.

"Galti ho gayi... sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling just a little.

Siddharth's gaze didn't waver. He stayed still, watching her, the softness still in his eyes. He knew it would take time. Noor had always been quiet, always kept her thoughts locked away, and learning to speak for herself would not come easily. But he was patient. He had all the time in the world to help her understand, to make her believe that her voice mattered.

A small smile played on his lips as he watched her, his hands still cupping her face. He didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned down, his arms moving to scoop her up gently, lifting her off the floor as if she weighed nothing. He walked to the bed, his steps careful and slow, before lowering her onto the mattress.

He helped her sit back against the headboard, her legs stretched out before her. Noor blinked up at him, surprise flickering in her eyes, but he just smiled that soft, reassuring smile of his before he climbed onto the bed beside her. Without another word, he lay down, his head resting gently on her chest, his arms wrapping around her middle as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Noor's hands moved instinctively, settling over his back, her fingers gently tracing small circles as he closed his eyes, a small, contented smile resting on his lips.

"Kitni baar kaha hai, aap mujhe sorry mat bola kariye,"
(How many times have I told you not to say sorry to me?)

Siddharth said, lifting his face up from her chest. His eyes held a warmth that made Noor's heart flutter.

Noor couldn't help but smile at him, her heart filling with the love she had for him. How could she be so lucky to have a husband like Siddharth? Her eyes shimmered with the emotions she felt, and without waiting, she leaned forward, pressing soft kisses on his cheeks. Her hand traveled to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as she gently combed them back. Siddharth watched her with a calmness that was almost surreal. His face softened, eyes glimmering with pure affection. This was his peace-the only place he craved to be all day long.

Siddharth's eyes twinkled with mischief, and he grinned. "Iske badle pyar kar liya kijiye."
(In return, just love me more.)

A soft chuckle escaped Noor's lips at his words. Siddharth's playful smile widened, his blue eyes sparkling with joy. Noor leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss on his nose. "Kabhi kabhi itni badi badi baatein, aur kabhi ekdum bacche ban jaate hain aap."
(Sometimes, you speak so wisely, and sometimes you become just like a child.)

Siddharth laughed, his smile only growing wider. "Aapke samne baccha ban ke rehna accha lagta hai."
(I love being a child in front of you.)

Noor's heart warmed at his words. She knew his childhood had been hard; she'd seen glimpses of it. It made her feel incredibly special to witness this childlike innocence that he showed only to her. Her hand reached up, brushing through his hair with a gentle touch. It wasn't a motherly gesture-it was deeper, more intimate, like she wanted to pour all the love she had into him.

"Hmm?" Noor asked, her eyes searching his, soft and questioning. Siddharth's chin was resting on her chest, and he looked up, his gaze locked with hers. His eyes were full of love, unspoken but so clear. Siddharth nodded slightly, his soft "Hmm" enough to express it all.

Noor leaned down again, pressing another gentle kiss on his nose. Siddharth's eyes fluttered closed at the touch, his entire body relaxing under her affection. Noor pulled back, a bright smile on her face.

"To kaise pyaar karna hoga is bade bacche ko?"
(So how should I love this big child?) Noor asked, her eyes shimmering with warmth. The night was silent, and only the gentle rhythm of their breaths filled the room. Their bodies were close, warmth spreading between them, and every glance was tender and soft, deepening the connection they shared.

Siddharth's eyes sparkled with mischief again. "Dus-barah kisses de dijiye aur-"
(Give me 10-12 kisses and-)

Noor let out a laugh, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Dus-barah?"
(10-12?)

Her laughter filled the room, soft and soothing. Siddharth adjusted himself slightly, still leaning on her, his grin growing wider. "Kam hai na? Mujhe bhi laga. Bees-pachis tak bhi theek thaak hai."
(Too few, right? I also felt that. 20-25 will be fine too.)

Noor's smile vanished as she stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief. Her husband was truly something else. She slapped his cheek playfully, the sound soft and teasing. "Bawale hain aap bilkul, Siddharth ji."
(You're completely crazy, Siddharth ji.)

Siddharth's grin only grew, his eyes shining with pure happiness. "Aapki pyaari si muskaan ke liye to shaadi ke doosre din se bawala hoon, Noor ji."
(I've been crazy for your sweet smile since the second day of our marriage, Noor ji.)

His words made Noor laugh out loud, her heart swelling with pure happiness. The room seemed to glow with their love, silent and soft, like it held their secrets and guarded their dreams. The night stretched on, but for them, time seemed to stop in the embrace of each other's warmth.

Siddharth's eyes sparkled with a playful glint as he tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixed on Noor's laughing face. "To chahiye, kijiye pyaar."
(So, if you want it, then show me love.)

The words left his lips with a softness that made Noor's smile widen, and she couldn't help but let out another gentle laugh. The silence that followed was warm and tender, broken only by her light chuckle. Shaking her head, Noor teased, "Yeh bara bacha mera pati bhi hai. Baat to manni hogi."
(This big child is also my husband. I'll have to listen to him.)

Saying this with a smile, Noor cupped Siddharth's cheek, her fingers gentle and warm against his skin. She leaned down, pressing a soft, sweet kiss over his lips before pulling back just as quickly, not giving him even a moment to respond. Sidharth blinked, a smile playing at his lips, but before he could say anything, Noor leaned down and kissed him again-soft, fleeting, and gone too soon. She did it a third time, her mischief growing as she pulled back each time just before he could deepen the kiss.

Sidharth narrowed his eyes at her, catching the sparkle of mischief dancing in Noor's gaze. His hands, still resting on her waist, tightened slightly as if daring her to do it again. Noor only grinned, enjoying the teasing game she had started. But Sidharth was quick-before she could even think of pulling back again, he moved with swift elegance, turning them both with a graceful motion.

The world spun for a moment, and Noor found herself beneath him, her back pressed against the softness of the mattress, his weight hovering just above her. A gasp slipped from her lips at the sudden shift, her eyes wide as she looked up at him. Siddharth's gaze was heavy with affection and something deeper, something that made Noor's cheeks burn with warmth.

"Main khud se khud ko aapse pyaar karwa loon ya aap mujhe se karein. Baat to barabar hi hai."
(Whether I make myself fall in love with you or you with me, it's the same thing.)

His voice was low, edged with playful challenge, and Noor's cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. Her smile softened, but she couldn't hide the blush that painted her skin. Siddharth leaned down, his lips brushing hers with a tenderness that melted every bit of space between them. He kissed her, not in the gentle, fleeting way she had teased him with, but with a passion that poured from his heart. His hand, firm and steady on her waist, slid under the soft fabric of her shirt, finding the warm skin of her stomach. His touch was warm, fingertips brushing over her skin as if memorizing every curve.

Noor shivered beneath his touch, the sensation sending a thousand sparks rushing through her body. His other hand moved gently up her side, his palm cupping her cheek and bringing her face closer to his, deepening the kiss until it was all-consuming. Siddharth's mouth was tender yet firm against hers, his tongue sliding against her lips before slipping inside, tasting and exploring, claiming her in the gentlest of ways.

Time seemed to slow, the room hushed with nothing but the soft breaths they shared, the way their bodies fit together like they were always meant to. Noor's hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as she kissed him back with the same intensity. Siddharth pulled back slowly, his breathing heavy, his forehead resting against hers. Noor's cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining with emotion and something deeper, something raw and unspoken.

Siddharth's lips curled into a small smile as he whispered, "Chaar ho gaye. Ikkis aur baaki hain."
(Four are done. Twenty-one are still left.)

Noor's eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise, but before she could say anything, Siddharth leaned down again, capturing her mouth in another soft, lingering kiss. It was as if he was savoring her, making up for every second they had been apart, every unspoken word that hung between them.

Their world was only them, hearts beating in rhythm, breaths mingling, and the warmth of love that spilled from every touch. Siddharth's hand remained on her stomach, his thumb tracing light circles on her skin, while his other hand kept her close, their bodies intertwined in perfect harmony.

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other's warmth, time stretching and bending around them, only the whispers of their hearts speaking the words their lips didn't need to say.

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The night was quiet, the air still, filled with the soft rhythm of breath-Noor and Siddharth nestled together under the warm blankets. The peaceful silence of their shared sleep was a calm, almost magical moment. Noor's head was resting against the pillow, her body close to his, arms wrapped around each other, a sense of comfort and safety enveloping them.

Siddharth's face was gently pressed against her chest, feeling her heartbeat, the steady sound like a lullaby. His hand rested loosely around her waist, as if the world outside didn't exist. The softness of her touch, the warmth of her presence-it was all that mattered to him in that moment.

But then, like a whisper breaking through a dream, a sudden noise sliced through the air. The sharp, insistent ringing of his phone.

Siddharth's eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry, mind still tangled in the sleep's grip. For a moment, he lay there, trying to focus, but his gaze stayed fixed on Noor. She was asleep, her face peaceful, unaware of the disturbance. He felt his face still resting against her chest, her breath slow and steady.

He blinked again, confusion clouding his mind. How had he even gotten here? He couldn't remember. It felt like waking up in the middle of something-something forgotten.

The phone rang again, louder now, as though demanding attention. Siddharth groaned softly, reluctantly lifting his head from her chest. He looked around the dark room, eyes still half-closed, the phone screen glowing in the darkness.

His hand fumbled for the phone, and without checking the caller ID, he answered, his voice thick with sleep. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end was low, almost a whisper. "She's out, Rajvardhan."

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