ᴍɪʜɪᴛʜᴀ-𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓷𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓸𝓫𝓼𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷

chapter 37

                   AUTHOR'S POV

The house was quiet except for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Mihitha sat on the couch, one hand resting on her growing belly, the other absentmindedly flipping through a book she wasn’t reading. Her mind wandered, as it often did these days, caught between the uncertainty of the future and the fragments of her complicated feelings toward Rudhransh. She couldn’t deny how attentive he had been lately his efforts to win her back, to repair what was broken between them.

Footsteps approached, and she looked up to see Rudhransh standing in the doorway, a hesitant smile on his face. "Hey," he said softly, "you need anything?"

Mihitha shook her head. "No, I’m fine."

But Rudhransh didn’t leave. Instead, he walked over and knelt in front of her, his hands reaching out to gently touch her legs. "How are your feet?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. "I noticed you’ve been on them a lot today."

"They’re a bit swollen," she admitted, looking away, unsure how to handle the tenderness in his gaze. It was so different from the cold, ruthless man she had first known. "But it’s normal."

"Doesn’t mean I can’t help," he murmured, already lifting her feet onto his lap. His touch was careful, almost reverent, as he began to massage her ankles and then the arches of her feet. Mihitha closed her eyes, unable to hide the relief that washed over her. The tension she didn’t even realize she was holding began to melt away.

For a while, they sat like that in silence, the only sound the occasional rustle of clothing or the soft hum of the air conditioner. Mihitha felt herself relaxing, her guard lowering, just a little. There was something soothing about this about the way Rudhransh was focusing on her, attending to her needs without expecting anything in return.

After a while, she couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. "You’re getting good at this."

Rudhransh chuckled, the sound low and warm. "I’ve been practicing."

"Practicing?" she raised an eyebrow, looking down at him.

"For you," he said, his eyes meeting hers with sincerity. "I know I’ve messed up, Mihitha. I can’t take back what I did, but I want to make it right. Even if it’s just with little things like this."

There was a lump in her throat at his words, and she wasn’t sure how to respond. The apology in his voice was clear, and the gentleness in his actions was undeniable. But forgiveness was not something she could give so easily. She looked away, focusing on the way his hands worked over her feet, trying to ignore the flutter in her chest.

After a while, he stopped, carefully lowering her feet back to the floor. He stood up, giving her a small smile before gesturing toward the hallway. "I’ve been working on something. Want to see?"

Curiosity piqued, Mihitha nodded. Rudhransh helped her to her feet, his hand lingering on her back as they walked down the hall toward one of the rooms she hadn’t paid much attention to in recent weeks. He opened the door slowly, stepping aside to let her in.

Her breath caught in her throat when she saw it.

The room had been transformed. What had once been an empty space was now filled with soft pastel colors, a crib in one corner, and shelves lined with stuffed animals and baby clothes. A mobile hung over the crib, its little stars and moons spinning gently in the air. A small armchair sat by the window, perfect for late-night feedings, and the walls were decorated with calming, soothing images.

"It’s a nursery," Mihitha whispered, her hand instinctively going to her belly.

Rudhransh nodded, standing behind her. "I wanted to create a space for... for our child. A place where they would feel safe. I know it’s not much yet, but I’ll keep adding to it."

Mihitha stepped into the room, running her fingers along the edge of the crib, her heart swelling with emotions she couldn’t quite name. She had been so focused on the hurt, the betrayal, that she hadn’t let herself think about the future. But seeing this... this room, this tiny sanctuary for their baby, made everything feel more real.

She turned back to Rudhransh, who was watching her with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "You did this for us?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"For you and for our baby," he said softly. "I want to be a father they can rely on. And I want to be the kind of partner you deserve, Mihitha."

The weight of his words hung between them, heavy with meaning. Mihitha felt her eyes sting with unshed tears, but she blinked them away. She wasn’t ready to cry, not now. Instead, she reached out and touched his arm, a small gesture, but one that felt significant in the quiet space of the nursery.

"I didn’t expect this," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know," he replied, stepping closer. "But I’m trying, Mihitha. I want to be better. I want to be someone you can trust."

Trust. It was such a fragile thing, and yet, here he was, trying to rebuild it brick by brick. She wasn’t sure she could fully let him back in, not yet. But the effort he was making, the care he was showing it was starting to break through the walls she had built around her heart.

"I don’t know if I can just forget everything that’s happened," she said quietly, her hand falling to her side. "But I can’t deny that you’re trying. And I appreciate it."

Rudhransh nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I don’t expect forgiveness overnight. I just want you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here, every step of the way."

They stood in silence for a moment longer, the weight of their past still lingering but softened by the warmth of the present. Mihitha found herself leaning into the hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way forward. Not perfect, not without pain, but with a shared commitment to their future.

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Rudhransh reached out, his hand gently resting on her belly. The baby kicked in response, and Mihitha smiled despite herself. "They’re active tonight," she said, her voice tinged with exhaustion.

Rudhransh grinned, his eyes lighting up as he felt the movement beneath his hand. "Maybe they’re excited about their new room."

"Maybe," Mihitha replied, turning her head to look at him. There was something in his eyes, a tenderness she hadn’t seen before. It made her heart ache, in a good way. She wanted to believe in this version of him, the man who cared, the man who was trying to make amends.

"I’ve been thinking about names," Rudhransh said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Names?" Mihitha asked, surprised. "Already?"

"I just thought... it might be nice to talk about it," he said, his thumb gently stroking her belly. "What do you think?"

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay. What do you have in mind?"

Rudhransh’s eyes lit up, and he shifted closer, excitement dancing in his expression. "Well, I was thinking of something strong, but also meaningful. What about Neel if it’s a boy? It means ‘blue’ a calming color, like the sky."

Mihitha smiled softly. "Neel. I like that."

"And for a girl..." Rudhransh hesitated, his voice softening. "I thought maybe... Nila. It means ‘sapphire blue.’"

"Nila," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue like a melody. "It’s beautiful."

Rudhransh smiled, his hand still resting on her belly as the baby continued to move. "I want to be a good father, Mihitha," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I want to give them everything I never had."

As the weeks passed, they fell into a rhythm. Rudhransh continued to make small gestures massaging her feet when they swelled, cooking her favorite meals, and even talking to the baby when he thought she was asleep. It wasn’t grand or dramatic, but it was real. It was honest. And slowly, the walls around Mihitha’s heart began to crack.

One night, as they lay in bed, Mihitha found herself speaking words she hadn’t planned to say. "I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you," she said quietly, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. "But I want to try."

Rudhransh turned to her, his breath catching in his throat. "That’s all I could ask for," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude.