Whispers of Fate

𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾

Dear Readers,

I hope this note finds you well. I want to start by apologizing for the delay in updating the story. I am currently at a very challenging point in my life where many other responsibilities are demanding my time and attention. As a result, I’ve struggled to find the time and energy to write as I would like to.

However, I want you to know that I’m not giving up on the story. I remain committed to it and will provide updates as my circumstances allow. Your patience and understanding during this time mean a lot to me.

I was truly touched to receive messages and comments from you asking about the next update. It’s heartening to know that the story is missed and valued. Thank you for your continued support and encouragement.

Warm regards

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Third Person's POV

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The next morning, Anisha stirred in her sleep, her mind still half-dreaming. Habit took over as she reached out across the bed, her fingers seeking the familiar warmth of Maisha’s little body. Her hand, expecting the soft contours of her daughter, instead found something firm, solid and unfamiliar—definitely not Maisha.

Atharva, half-awake, felt a gentle hand on his chest. A lazy smile tugged at his lips as he assumed it was Maisha, up to her usual antics. Without thinking, he grasped the hand, ready to pull her into a playful morning hug. But, then, the realisation hit him—this was not the soft, tiny hand of Maisha, rather the hand felt larger, more adult.

They both jolted awake, their eyes locking—wide and startled. The air between them thickened with the palpable awkwardness of the moment. Atharva released Anisha's hand as if it had burned him, both of them sitting up slightly, uncertain of what to say or do next.

Anisha's heart raced, her pulse pounding in her ears as she struggled to find the right words to diffuse the tension. She cleared her throat, the sound awkward in the quiet room. "I-I was looking for Maisha," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, her hand instinctively moving to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Atharva, equally flustered, ran a hand through his tousled hair, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. "Yeah, I thought… I thought you were Maisha too," he said, his voice rough and groggy.

They both glanced away, the silence settling over them like a weight, neither of them sure what to do next. Anisha’s fingers fidgeted with the edge of the blanket, while Atharva rubbed the back of his neck, each lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, Anisha broke the silence, her gaze darting around the room but not finding Maisha. Her voice was steadier now as she dared to look at Atharva. "Where did she go?"

Before Atharva could respond, the faint sound of running water from the bathroom caught their attention. A moment later, the door creaked open, and Maisha stepped out, her tiny feet padding softly against the floor.

She beamed at them, her wide eyes sparkling with mischief. "Mamma, Papa, you're so sleepy!" she teased, her voice filled with the playful innocence. "I woke up before you!"

Atharva chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shook off the last remnants of awkwardness. "Oh yes, someone has become a little early bird today," he said, playfully tapping Maisha's nose, eliciting a giggle from her and a smile from her mother.