PASHMINA & SHUBMAN'S ROMANTIC MOMENT AFTER PARENTHOOD

The house was finally quiet—a miracle in itself. Aryaman, now 18, had gone out with friends, and Innayat, their 10-year-old firecracker, had finally drifted off to sleep after an evening of endless roasting and boundless energy.

Shubman let out a sigh as he entered the bedroom, finding Pashmina on the rocking chair, reading a book, her glasses low on her nose.

Shubman leaned against the doorframe, watching her with a small smile. The gentle creak of the rocking chair was the only sound in the room, a stark contrast to the usual chaos their children brought.

"You're actually getting to read?" he mused, pushing off the doorway and walking toward her, reaching back to quietly close the door behind him.

Pashmina didn't look up immediately, idly turning the page with her thumb.. "Shocking, isn't it?" she murmured, a teasing lilt in her voice. "No one interrupting me every five minutes to ask for food, help with homework, or the WiFi password."

Shubman chuckled, crouching beside her, his hand resting on the armrest of the chair. "I half expected you to fall asleep before finishing a page."

Pashmina raised a brow over her glasses, smirking. "And yet, here I am. Defying expectations."

Shubman chuckled, shaking his head. "I should know better by now." His fingers lightly traced the edge of the armrest, his gaze softening as he took her in—her slightly tousled hair, the faint shadows beneath her eyes, the way she still looked effortlessly beautiful even in exhaustion.

She sighed, closing her book and placing it on her lap. "It's been a long day."

"When is it not?" he murmured, reaching up to gently slide her glasses off and set them aside. "But right now, it's just us."

She let out a small laugh, leaning back. "You make that sound so rare."

He gave her a knowing look. "Because it is rare." He took her hand in his, threading his fingers through hers. "Between Aryaman's endless debates and Innayat's daily roast sessions, I'm lucky if I get two minutes with you before someone barges in."

Pashmina tilted her head, pretending to think. "Should we just start locking the door?"

"Tempting," he admitted, bringing her hand to his lips for a soft kiss. "But they'd probably find a way in anyway."

She smiled, watching him. "So, what do we do with this rare moment of peace?"

Shubman smirked, tugging her gently toward him. "We make it last."

Pashmina leaned forward, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she tilted her head. "And how exactly do we make it last, Mr. Gill?"

Shubman smirked, his thumb lazily tracing circles over her knuckles before suddenly tugging her down onto the floor with him. She let out a startled yelp as the book tumbled from her hands, landing with a soft thud beside them.

"Shubman!" she gasped, half-laughing, half-scolding as she found herself sprawled beside him. "What are you doing?"

He grinned up at her, completely unrepentant, then cast a quick glance at the door, making sure it was closed. Satisfied, his hand slid to the back of Pashmina's neck, fingers curling gently as he pulled her down into a kiss—slow, deep, and unhurried, as if making up for all the moments they had lost.

Pashmina melted into the kiss, her hands pressing against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palms. He tasted of mint and something undeniably him—familiar, warm, and just a little maddening.

She sighed softly, surrendering to the rare stillness between them. Her fingers slid into his hair, nails grazing his scalp, and he hummed in quiet approval. His arm tightened around her waist, anchoring her to him, as if unwilling to let the moment slip away.

His lips moved against hers with teasing insistence, a coaxing warmth that made her smile. But when she thought he might pull away, he deepened the kiss instead—slow, deliberate, as if savoring something too precious to rush.

Pashmina pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her forehead resting lightly against his. Her fingers lingered in his hair, absently twirling a strand between them as she let her eyes flutter open.

Shubman's gaze was already on her, dark and steady, the hint of a smirk playing at his lips. His thumb traced the curve of her waist in lazy, absentminded circles, as if grounding himself in the feel of her.

"What?" she murmured, her voice softer than she intended.

His smirk widened slightly, but instead of answering, he lifted a hand, brushing his knuckles along her jaw. "Nothing," he murmured back. "Just looking."

Pashmina huffed a quiet laugh, warmth blooming in her chest despite herself. "You're ridiculous," she muttered, though she didn't pull away, didn't resist when his hand slid back to rest against the nape of her neck.

"Maybe," Shubman admitted, his voice dipping lower. "But you like me like this."

She rolled her eyes, but the small smile curving her lips gave her away.

Shubman exhaled a quiet chuckle at her eye roll, but before she could say anything else, he shifted forward, dipping his head until his face nestled into the crook of her neck.

Pashmina sucked in a breath, her fingers stilling in his hair as warmth unfurled beneath her skin. His lips brushed against her pulse a little too long. Then, he pressed a long, deliberate kiss there—soft, reverent, as if pouring every unsaid word into the touch.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath against her skin. Then, as if the words alone weren't enough, he tightened his arms around her, his next murmur sinking deeper, raw and quiet. "I love you so, so much."

Pashmina's eyes fluttered shut, her hand slipping to cradle the back of his head. A familiar ache settled in her chest—not the painful kind, but the kind that made her feel impossibly full, like she didn't quite know what to do with all the love he gave her.

She swallowed, tilting her head slightly, allowing him to stay there. "I know," she whispered back, her lips curving faintly. "I feel it."

Shubman let out a quiet hum against her skin, his arms tightening around her as if he could hold her closer than close. He stayed there, nestled against her neck, breathing her in like she was something rare, something irreplaceable.

Pashmina's fingers traced the back of his neck, slow and soothing, her touch grounding him in the same way his embrace did for her. "You're awfully clingy today," she murmured, teasing but gentle.

He huffed a soft laugh against her skin before pressing another lingering kiss just below her ear. "Let me be," he muttered. "I barely get you to myself."

She sighed, but it was fond, her lips grazing the top of his head as she let herself sink into the warmth of him. "You have me now."

Shubman lifted his head then, just enough to meet her eyes, a slow, knowing smile tugging at his lips. His thumb brushed over her cheek before he murmured, "Now that I have you... shall I take you on a long drive?"

Pashmina blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sudden shift. "A drive?" she echoed, amusement flickering in her gaze.

He nodded, the smirk deepening. "Just you, me, and the open road. No interruptions, no chaos... just us." His fingers traced lazy patterns against her waist. "What do you say?"

She bit back a smile, pretending to consider it, even as her heart fluttered at the thought. "And what makes you think I'll say yes?"

Shubman scoffed, leaning in until their noses brushed. "Because," he murmured, lips grazing hers in a teasing ghost of a kiss, "you love me too much to say no."

Pashmina let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

"But irresistible," he added smoothly.

She rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her gaze betrayed her. "Fine," she relented, poking his chest lightly. "A drive. But if you take me somewhere ridiculous, I'm making you turn back."

Shubman grinned, already pulling her up with him. "No promises."

Both of them tiptoed through the silent house like partners in crime, stifling laughter as they carefully avoided the creaky floorboards. It was ridiculous, really—sneaking out of their own home like a pair of teenagers defying curfew, when in reality, they were the ones who set the rules here. But that only made it more thrilling.

Shubman glanced over his shoulder, his fingers laced tightly with Pashmina's. "You think they'll wake up?" he whispered.

Pashmina smirked. "If you don't trip over something, we might just make it."

He scoffed but slowed his steps, his usual confidence momentarily subdued by the very real fear of stepping on anything left in the hallway. When they finally reached the door, Pashmina exhaled, shaking her head at their own absurdity.

"We're married, you know," she whispered as he carefully turned the lock. "We don't have to sneak around like this."

Shubman grinned, pulling her close for a fleeting kiss on her cheek before nudging the door open. "Where's the fun in that?"

With the cool night air wrapping around them, they slipped outside, closing the door behind them with exaggerated caution. And then, the moment the lock clicked into place, Shubman grabbed Pashmina's hand and broke into a run, dragging her along with him—because even after all these years, some things were still worth running toward.

She laughed, breathless, as they dashed across the driveway, their fingers tightly intertwined. The pavement was cool beneath their feet, the thrill of the moment making her heart race. They weren't escaping anything—not really—but it felt like freedom anyway.

By the time they reached the car, Pashmina was giggling, leaning against the door to catch her breath. Shubman, grinning, pulled it open for her with an exaggerated bow. "Your chariot, my lady."

She rolled her eyes but slid in, shaking her head as he shut the door behind her. A moment later, he was in the driver's seat, his hand finding hers again as the engine purred to life.

As they pulled away, the world stretched open before them—quiet, endless, waiting. And with Shubman beside her, Pashmina knew there were still so many things worth running toward.

As the car glided onto the empty road, the hum of the engine filled the quiet night, blending seamlessly with the distant rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of crickets. The world felt different at this hour—slower, softer, as if it belonged only to them.

Pashmina rested her head against the window for a moment, watching the glow of streetlights flicker past. Then, turning to Shubman, she found him already looking at her, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

"What?" she asked, amusement laced in her voice.

Shubman shrugged, his fingers absently tracing circles over the back of her hand. "Nothing. Just thinking how ridiculously in love with you I am."

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "You're saying that now because I ran with you instead of complaining about the cold."

"That, and because it's true," he murmured, stealing a quick glance her way before returning his focus to the road.

Pashmina exhaled, warmth blooming in her chest. She squeezed his hand, letting her thumb graze over his knuckles. "You know," she mused, "I think I love you even more when you're driving."

Shubman shot her a smug look. "Because I look good doing it?"

She smirked. "Because you have to keep your eyes on the road, which means I don't have to deal with you staring at me the whole time."

He barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "You wound me, truly."

Pashmina just smiled, leaning back in her seat, letting the night wrap around them. She didn't know where they were headed, and for once, it didn't matter. With Shubman beside her, anywhere felt like exactly where she was meant to be.

Pashmina let out a happy little noise, the kind that slipped out when she wasn't thinking, when she was just feeling. Shubman glanced at her, amused, but before he could say anything, she suddenly squeezed his hand.

"Stop the car," she said, her voice filled with something he couldn't quite place.

Shubman frowned, glancing at her before looking back at the road. "What? Why?"

"Just stop," she insisted, already reaching for his arm like she'd yank the wheel herself if he didn't listen.

Still confused, but unable to deny her anything, Shubman pulled over to the side of the quiet road, the tires crunching against gravel. The moment the car came to a halt, Pashmina was already unbuckling her seatbelt, her eyes shining with something wild and free.

Shubman turned to her, brow raised. "Are we being kidnapped? Because you're acting real suspicious right now."

Pashmina just grinned, pushing open the door. "Get out."

"Okay, now I know I'm being kidnapped," he muttered but followed her lead anyway. The second he stepped outside, the cool night air wrapped around them, and before he could ask again what the hell was going on, Pashmina grabbed his hand and started pulling him forward.

"Mina," he said, laughing despite himself. "What are we doing?"

She spun to face him, eyes gleaming under the soft glow of the streetlights. "Dancing," she said simply.

Shubman blinked. "We're what—"

But she was already swaying, already pulling him in, already resting her hands against his chest like she knew he'd give in. And of course, he did. He always did.

With a sigh that was all affection, Shubman let his arms circle her waist, letting her press close. "There's no music, you know," he murmured, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head.

Pashmina smiled against his shoulder. "There doesn't have to be."

Shubman swayed with her for a few moments in the quiet, the only sounds around them being the distant chirping of crickets and the rustling of trees in the night breeze. Then, out of nowhere, he started singing—softly at first, his voice carrying a tune he clearly hadn't thought through.

Pashmina groaned, immediately burying her face in his chest. "Don't," she mumbled against his shirt. "Please, we don't want stray dogs attacking us."

Shubman huffed, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me? My voice is very soothing."

"Your voice is a hazard," she shot back, lifting her head just enough to glare at him.

Shubman narrowed his eyes at her, his grip on her waist tightening just slightly. "A hazard?" he repeated, drawing out the word like he couldn't believe the insult.

Pashmina, completely unfazed, nodded. "A public safety risk."

His lips twitched, but he kept up the act, tilting his head as if deep in thought. "Huh. Well, if that's the case..."

Before she could react, he suddenly spun her around, dipping her low with an exaggerated flourish. Pashmina yelped, grabbing onto his shoulders for balance.

"Shubman" she gasped, laughing despite herself. "What are you—"

"Fully embracing my role as a hazard," he interrupted smugly. "If I can't sing, I'll just sweep you off your feet instead."

Pashmina let out a breathless laugh, her fingers gripping his shoulders as she tried to steady herself. "You are going to drop me one of these days," she accused, though there was no real bite to it.

Shubman smirked, effortlessly holding her in place. "Have I ever dropped you?"

She gave him a flat look. "Yes. Twice."

"That was years ago," he defended, straightening and pulling her back up with ease. "And in my defense, one of those times was because you distracted me."

"Oh, so it was my fault?" she scoffed, swatting his arm lightly.

"Obviously," he teased, his hands sliding back around her waist. "You're very distracting."

Pashmina stood on her toes, her palms resting lightly against his chest as she brushed her lips teasingly against his. "Am I now?" she murmured, her voice low and sweet.

Shubman's breath hitched, his grip on her waist tightening instinctively. He swallowed hard, his usual confidence wavering for just a second before he managed to stammer, "M-Mina... y-you know we live in a country where PDA is not a thing."

Pashmina tilted her head, feigning innocence as she trailed a finger along his collar. "Hmm. And yet, you had no problem sweeping me off my feet just now."

Shubman exhaled sharply, narrowing his eyes at her. "That was different."

"Was it?" she challenged, amusement dancing in her gaze.

Shubman had no words, his mind momentarily blank as he stared at her, caught between disbelief and something far more dangerous. Pashmina's boldness was nothing new, but the way she was looking at him now—mischievous, unbothered, completely in control—had him feeling utterly unprepared.

His breath hitched again as she traced her finger along his jaw, slow and deliberate, her touch featherlight yet impossibly distracting.

"We're on an empty road," she murmured, her voice teasing. "No people, no CCTV... what exactly are you so scared of, Darling?"

Shubman swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "I—I'm not—"

Pashmina arched a brow, her smirk widening. "You are."

He clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes at her. "Mina—"

"What?" she interrupted, tilting her head playfully. "Afraid someone will pop out of the bushes and take notes?"

Shubman exhaled sharply, his grip tightening around her wrist, as if that alone could stop her from completely unraveling him. "You're enjoying this too much," he muttered, his voice lower than before.

Pashmina's smirk didn't waver. If anything, it deepened as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against his skin. "And you're avoiding the question."

He scoffed, trying—and failing—to maintain his composure. "There's nothing to be scared of."

"Oh?" She pulled him close by his jaw. " "So if I—"

Before she could finish, Shubman moved. In one swift motion, he flipped their positions, pinning her lightly against the car. His hands bracketed her on either side, caging her in without ever truly trapping her.

Pashmina let out a small, surprised breath, her eyes widening just slightly before amusement returned to them. "Well," she murmured, glancing between them. "That's one way to answer."

Shubman studied her, his gaze dark and unreadable. "You like pushing me, don't you?"

Pashmina hummed, pretending to consider. "Maybe. But I like it more when you finally push back."

A slow smirk curled at his lips. "Careful what you wish for, Mrs. Gill."

She arched a brow, utterly unimpressed. "Or what?"

Shubman held her gaze for a long moment before, in a move as deliberate as it was inevitable, he leaned in—closer, closer—until his lips were barely a breath away from hers.

"Or I might just stop caring about who's watching."

Pashmina's breath hitched, but she refused to back down. Instead, she tilted her chin up defiantly, her smirk unwavering. "Bold of you to assume I'd mind."

Shubman's eyes flickered with something dangerous—something that made her stomach flip. "You're playing with fire, Mina."

"And you're the one holding the match," she countered, her fingers toying with the front of his shirt, pulling him just a little closer.

Shubman dipped his head, his lips barely brushing against hers as his hands slid up her waist, making her shiver. He smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing to her. His fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along her waist, the heat of his touch seeping through the fabric of her dress. 

Shubman kissed her neck first, slow and lingering, before trailing soft, teasing kisses along her jaw, her cheek, and even the tip of her nose—everywhere except where she wanted him most. Pashmina's breath grew uneven, her fingers curling into his shirt as she waited, anticipating the moment his lips would finally meet hers.

But just as he hovered over her lips, barely an inch away, he pulled back with a smirk.

Pashmina's eyes snapped open, her brows furrowing in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?"

Shubman leaned back, arms folding across his chest as if he hadn't just driven her insane. "What?" he asked, all innocence, though the glint in his eyes betrayed him.

Pashmina let out an exasperated breath, glaring at him. "You—" She huffed, reaching forward to grab his collar, but he took a quick step back, laughing.

"You seemed pretty confident a minute ago, Mrs. Gill," he taunted. "What happened?"

Pashmina narrowed her eyes, her frustration only making her more determined. "Shubman, I swear—"

"Swear what?" he challenged, tilting his head. "That you'll get back at me?"

Pashmina smirked now, slow and wicked, and Shubman barely had time to react before she grabbed his wrist and yanked him back toward her. He stumbled, and before he could regain control, she stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his—fierce, unrelenting, and full of the frustration he had so smugly built up.

Shubman's teasing demeanor vanished in an instant. His hands instinctively found her waist, holding her close as he melted into the kiss he had so confidently denied her.

When she finally pulled away, breathless but victorious, she smirked. "That."

Shubman blinked, still dazed. Then he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Remind me never to mess with you again."

Pashmina patted his cheek, grinning. "Oh, you'll still try. And I'll still win."

Shubman exhaled, shaking his head with a defeated smile before tugging her close again. "Yeah, well... I think I like losing to you."

Pashmina smiled—the kind of smile that sent Shubman's heart flipping over itself, quick and unstoppable. "Now that I've won, I deserve a treat."

Shubman smirked, leaning in, his breath warm against her skin. "And what would that be?"

Pashmina moved teasingly close to his ear, her lips barely grazing it before she whispered, "Ice cream."

Shubman pulled back slightly, blinking as if he hadn't heard her right. "Ice cream?"

Pashmina grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Yes. Cold, creamy, chocolate-loaded ice cream."

He let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Here I was expecting something a little more... mm romantic."

Pashmina gasped, feigning offense. "Excuse me? Chocolate is the most romantic thing in the world."

Shubman arched a brow, amused. "Says who?"

"Says me," she declared, crossing her arms. "And since I just won our little game, my word is law."

He chuckled, shaking his head as he started the car. "Fine, Your Highness. Ice cream it is."

Pashmina beamed, victorious. "Good. And make it two scoops."

Shubman threw her a sideways glance. "Greedy."

She leaned in, her voice dropping playfully. "Would you rather I ask for three?"

He sighed dramatically, pulling onto the road. "Why do I feel like I'm being scammed?"

"Because you are." Pashmina winked. "Now drive, before I change my order to an entire tub."

Shubman groaned, shaking his head. "You're a menace."

Pashmina shrugged, completely unbothered. "And yet, here you are, willingly driving me to ice cream paradise."

He shot her a look. "Willingly is a strong word."

Pashmina gasped, placing a hand over her heart. "Are you saying you don't want to take your beloved wife on a midnight ice cream run?"

Shubman exhaled through his nose, gripping the steering wheel. "That depends. Am I just your driver now?"

Pashmina tapped her chin, pretending to think. "Hmm. Driver, husband, personal chef, occasional pillow, emotional support human—yeah, you're a multitasker."

Shubman groaned louder, but the way his lips twitched gave him away. "I should start charging for all these services."

Pashmina grinned, leaning closer. "Oh? And what's my bill, Mr. Gill?"

He flicked a glance at her, eyes dark with something unreadable. "You can pay in kisses."

She hummed, pretending to consider. "That depends. Am I just your wife now?"

Shubman let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he turned into the nearest ice cream shop's parking lot. "You are so lucky I love you."

Pashmina unbuckled her seatbelt in record time. "That, I am."

Shubman watched her for a moment, shaking his head fondly at his wife.

Shubman and Pashmina had barely stepped out of the car when they spotted Aryaman and Jaymeet trudging out of the ice cream shop, both looking distinctly unimpressed.

Pashmina raised a brow. "Well, that's a rare sight. What happened? Did they run out of your favorite flavor?"

Aryaman's face lit up the moment he spotted his parents. "Papa! Mumma! Thank god you're here," he exclaimed, rushing toward them. "Give me some money—we came all the way here and just realized we don't have any."

Jaymeet sighed dramatically beside him. "It was a heartbreaking discovery."

Shubman shot him a deadpan look. "So you came all the way here, ordered ice cream, and then realized you had no money?"

Aryaman nodded shamelessly. "Pretty much."

Jaymeet sighed dramatically. "In our defense, we were too excited about the ice cream to think about minor details like, you know... paying for it."

Pashmina pressed her fingers to her temples. "You two are unbelievable."

Aryaman clapped his hands together in mock desperation. "Papa, Mumma, please. You don't want the son of two very famous, highly respectable people to be kicked out of an ice cream shop, do you? The scandal! The headlines! 'Esteemed Couple's Son Left Penniless and Hungry'—do you want that?"

Shubman rolled his eyes but was already pulling out his wallet. "Unbelievable," he muttered, handing him some cash. "This is coming out of your inheritance."

Aryaman grinned, snatching the money. "Love you, Papa!"

Jaymeet saluted. "I'll name my firstborn after you."

Shubman blinked. "What—"

But before he could finish, the two bolted back inside, their earlier sulking completely forgotten.

Pashmina sighed as she watched Aryaman and Jaymeet disappear back into the shop, their excitement renewed. She shook her head, turning to Shubman. "Not even an hour of peace, and we're already back in chaos."

Shubman exhaled dramatically, slipping an arm around Pashmina's waist. "I don't know why we even bother trying to escape."

Pashmina leaned into him, watching through the glass as Aryaman animatedly debated with Jaymeet over which toppings to get. "Maybe because deep down, we like the chaos."

Shubman scoffed, shaking his head. "You like the chaos. I was aiming for a peaceful, romantic night."

Pashmina hummed, pretending to consider. "Hmm. A quiet night with just the two of us... or watching our son and his best friend nearly get banned from an ice cream shop?" She turned to him with a teasing smile. "Tough choice."

Shubman groaned. "Don't remind me."

Inside, Aryaman and Jaymeet were now gesturing wildly, clearly in the middle of an intense debate—most likely about whether extra chocolate chips were worth the extra cost.

Pashmina bumped her hip against Shubman's thigh, her eyes twinkling. "Come on, Mr. Gill, let's secure our happiness in the form of frozen dessert before those two buy out the whole shop."

Shubman lingered by the door for a moment, watching as Pashmina walked ahead, her steps light, effortless—like she belonged in every place she set foot in.

Inside, Aryaman and Jaymeet were still locked in their dramatic discussion, gesturing wildly at the menu as if the fate of the world depended on the right ice cream toppings.

Pashmina reached them, placing a gentle hand on Aryaman's shoulder, instantly breaking his debate. He turned to her, mid-sentence, only to have her swipe a stray strand of hair off his forehead with the same ease she had done since he was little. Jaymeet snickered, while Aryaman groaned but didn't pull away.

Shubman leaned against the doorframe, a small smile tugging at his lips. He'd intended this night to be just for the two of them, a brief escape, a stolen moment—but somehow, it had led them right back to the very heart of their chaos. And oddly enough, it felt just as right.

He exhaled, shaking his head as a thought crossed his mind. If Innayat were here, she'd be making it her life's mission to hurry them along. He could already imagine her dramatic sigh, her hands on her hips as she declared, "Mumma, Papa, please. At this rate, we'll be choosing our flavors till morning." She had a way of inserting herself into every situation, adding that extra topping of mayhem with the biggest grin, the loudest opinions, and the confidence of someone who truly believed she ran the world.

Maybe this was their kind of love story—written between stolen kisses, midnight drives, and ice cream debates. Loud, messy, completely unscripted.

And Shubman wouldn't have it any other way.