Pashmina gasped loudly, her hands trembling as she clutched the furniture behind her for support. The news hit her like a wave of pain, almost as deeply as the loss of Karan. Even though Avantika was Shubman’s ex, Pashmina couldn’t help but feel the same overwhelming ache for Shubman's pain as she had once felt for Karan’s.

She wiped her mouth and took a deep breath, composing herself. This wasn’t the time to let her emotions take over—right now, she needed to be strong for Shubman. She couldn’t afford to be vulnerable, not when he needed her the most.

Pashmina hesitated for a moment before asking softly, "Shubman... what about Aryaman’s father? Where is he in all of this?" 

Shubman bit his lip, his voice heavy with emotion as he tried to explain. "Both are gone," he said quietly. "They had an accident a year ago. Avantika was in her ninth month of pregnancy. Her husband didn’t make it to the hospital... and when they brought Avantika in, it was too late to save her. They could only save one." 

He paused, his voice breaking slightly. "Avantika... she chose Aryaman." 

Pashmina’s heart clenched at his words. She could see the pain etched in Shubman's face, the weight of the story bearing down on him as he tried to hold himself together.

Pashmina looked up at Shubman, her brow furrowed as she tried to meet his eyes. But his gaze remained fixed on the ground.

“And why do they want you to step in, Shubman? What about her in-laws? Don’t they want to raise Aryaman?”

Shubman let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head slightly. “They’re the reason they’re both gone,” Shubman said, his voice tight with emotion. “Their rigid, old-fashioned views were too much for Avantika and her husband to bear. They tried to escape, to live their own lives, but they couldn’t. When the in-laws reached the hospital, the first thing they did was rush to their son, blaming Avantika for convincing him to leave. That’s when Poonam and Ranjeet finally did something right—they lied and said both Avantika and the baby were dead. All her in-laws cared about was whether the child was a boy or a girl, nothing else mattered to them.”

Pashmina’s voice was soft, but her confusion was clear. “But why you, Shubman? Out of everyone, why do they want you to adopt Aryaman?”

Shubman let out a heavy sigh, his words tinged with bitterness. “They think I’m the only one who can give him a better life. I’m the stable one, the one who can provide. And with Bagga's getting older, Avantika believed I could offer Aryaman a future no one else could. But it’s ironic,” he scoffed, his frustration rising. “Poonam and Ranjeet didn’t want a struggling cricketer for their daughter, but now they want a successful one for their grandson.”

He shook his head in disbelief, his voice thick with frustration. “I’m stuck in the middle of all this, Pashmina. They expect me to step up, but it’s not that simple. I never asked for this responsibility.”

Pashmina’s eyes filled with tears, but she reached out to him, her voice soft yet firm. “Shubman, leave them behind for now. Think about Avantika. She chose you for him—there must have been a reason.”

Shubman's shoulders drooped, the weight of everything pressing down on him. “Me? I don’t even know how to take care of myself some days,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “How am I supposed to raise a child? I’m not ready for this. I don’t even know where to begin.”

Pashmina gently placed her hand on his arm, her voice steady with quiet assurance. “You can do this, Shubman. I believe in you.”

Shubman looked at her, doubt and fear warring in his eyes. “But what if I mess up? What if I fail him?”

Pashmina’s gaze softened, her empathy shining through. “No one knows exactly what they’re doing when they become a parent. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about doing your best. You have love to give, and that’s what matters most.”

Shubman’s breath hitched as he clutched his hair, his voice cracking with emotion. “Pashmina, how could I do this to you? How could I be the one?”

Pashmina sighed, gently running her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him. “Shubman, you need to let go of the past. You can’t hold someone else’s mistakes against yourself. You have to accept what happened and move forward.”

Shubman’s eyes welled with tears as painful memories of those who had taken so much from him resurfaced. “And you think I should listen to them? The ones who nearly destroyed my ability to love? Now you want me to help them, to do what they’re asking?” His voice was filled with seething anger.

Pashmina nodded, a sad but knowing smile on her face. “Yes, I want you to listen to them, if it means giving someone else the chance at a better life.”

Shubman’s eyes locked with hers, desperation flooding his gaze. He grabbed her shoulders, shaking her slightly. “And you? Are you ready for this? To accept it?”

Pashmina’s smile was soft but resolute, her forehead touching his as she spoke with quiet determination. “I’m ready to do whatever it takes, as long as it means bringing peace and joy to someone’s life.”

Shubman's voice trembled, a weak smile tugging at his lips as he wiped away a tear. "So, we’re unofficially the mother and father, huh?" he asked, his words filled with a mixture of disbelief and hope. The thought of raising a child with Pashmina seemed so beautiful, despite all the uncertainty.

Pashmina's heart swelled as she met his gaze, her own tears glistening. She gave him a small, reassuring smile, her voice soft yet strong. "Maybe we are, Shubman. And maybe that’s all that matters."

Shubman's voice was hesitant, a bit of discomfort creeping in as he glanced at Pashmina. “And what about your family... moving in with me and raising a child? You know what I mean?” he asked, his words tinged with uncertainty

Pashmina smiled softly, her tone reassuring as she leaned in and kissed Shubman on the nose. “Oh, don’t think too much about that,” she said, her voice gentle. “I’ll take care of everything. You just focus on the nursery decorations,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Shubman's heart swelled as he gazed at Pashmina, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you so much," he said, his words filled with gratitude and admiration for the woman who stood by him.

Pashmina's eyes softened, a smile tugging at her lips as she gently cupped his face. "I love you too, Shubman," she whispered, her voice tender. "And we’ll figure this out together, every step of the way."

Shubman's eyes glistened, overwhelmed by the love and strength that Pashmina had shown him. He could feel the weight of the world easing off his shoulders with every word she spoke. "I don’t deserve you," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, as if afraid the moment would slip away.

Shubman’s gaze softened, a flood of emotions he could no longer keep at bay filling his chest. He reached out, gently cupping Pashmina’s face as if trying to memorize the warmth of the moment. “I never thought I’d find someone like you, Pashmina," he whispered, his voice shaky with vulnerability. "You make me feel like maybe, just maybe, I can be enough.”

Pashmina chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she gently pulled back from his embrace. “Oh, come on, Shubman,” she teased, a playful smile curling on her lips. “Enough with the sweet talk. We’ve got a much more important decision to make—whether Aryaman is going to be a mumma’s boy or a dada’s boy!”

She raised an eyebrow, wiggling it for emphasis, clearly ready for a light-hearted debate.

Shubman smiled, his eyes full of mischief. "Well, it’s settled then," he said with a grin. "Aryaman is definitely going to be a dada’s boy. He’s got my charm, my sense of humor, and he’ll love sports too."

Pashmina raised an eyebrow, looking at him playfully. "Oh, really? You’re sure about that?" she teased, crossing her arms. "He might surprise you and end up being a mama’s boy after all."

Shubman laughed, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. "Not a chance, Pashmina. He’s all mine."

Pashmina smiled softly, her eyes glimmering with the warmth of a future filled with love. "We’ll see about that," she said gently. "But all I know is that he’s going to have all the love in the world."

Her words held a quiet certainty as she thought about the beauty of motherhood—the tiny moments of joy, the sleepless nights, and the endless love they would pour into Aryaman’s life. She could already picture it all—the laughter, the first steps, the milestones they’d celebrate together as a family.