Ten years had passed since that fateful night in the underground fight club, yet the memories remained vivid for both Kirti and Divit. They stood together on the balcony of their sprawling home, overlooking the lush garden that had become a sanctuary for their growing family. The sun bathed the scene in a warm golden light, much like the glow of their lives together.
“Mom! Dad! Come help us!” a voice rang out, pulling their attention from the horizon.
Divit chuckled, wrapping his arm around Kirti’s waist as they turned to watch their twin daughters—Aanya and Meera—tugging at their younger brother, Aryan, trying to coax him into a game. The children were a whirlwind of energy, laughter echoing through the garden, reminding them of the days when it was just the two of them navigating their own challenges.
“I swear, they have more energy than we ever did,” Kirti said with a laugh, her eyes sparkling as she watched them.
“Just like their mother,” Divit teased, planting a soft kiss on her temple. “You know, I still can’t believe how far we’ve come since then.”
Kirti turned to him, her expression softening. “I can. It was your strength that got us through those times. You fought for us, Divit. And I’ve watched you grow into an incredible father and husband.”
Divit smiled, his heart swelling with pride. “And you’ve been my anchor through it all. I never thought I could be so lucky to have someone like you by my side.”
The morning sun highlighted the few silver strands in Divit’s hair, a testament to the years of hard work and dedication. The battle scars from his fight club days had long faded, but the lessons learned remained etched in his heart.
“Speaking of luck, have you seen the girls?” he asked, glancing towards the garden.
“Not since they ran off with their new art supplies,” Kirti replied, a hint of concern crossing her features. “I hope they’re not painting the fence again.”
Divit chuckled. “That would be their third attempt this month. I’ll go check on them. You stay here and enjoy a moment of peace.”
As Divit made his way toward the garden, Kirti felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. She remembered the struggles they had faced—how Divit had once fought in the shadows, and how she had braved her own fears to stand by him. But now, they were enveloped in a life filled with love and joy.
A few moments later, Divit returned, holding a piece of colourful canvas. “You won’t believe what they’ve done this time!”
Kirti gasped, her eyes widening as she took in the sight. The canvas was a vibrant, chaotic masterpiece, a swirl of colours that captured the essence of their family—laughter, warmth, and love. “Wow! They’ve really outdone themselves!”
“Let’s hang it in the living room,” Divit suggested, his eyes glinting with amusement. “It’ll remind us every day of their ‘creative genius.’”
“Or their lack of boundaries,” Kirti added with a laugh.
“Same difference,” Divit winked. “But seriously, it’s beautiful. Just like you.”
Kirti felt her heart flutter at his compliment. “You always know how to make me smile.”
“Because I’ve learned that keeping you happy is the best way to keep this family thriving,” he replied, his voice tender.
Their moment was interrupted as the children burst into the room, their faces painted with remnants of their artwork, their smiles wide with excitement.
“Look, Mommy! Look, Daddy!” Aanya exclaimed, raising her hands in triumph. “We made a masterpiece!”
Meera joined in, dancing around with Aryan. “Can we paint more? Please?”
Divit knelt to their level, his expression serious yet warm. “Of course, but let’s keep the paint outside, alright? We don’t want to give Mom a heart attack.”
“Deal!” the girls cheered, their laughter filling the air.
Kirti watched the scene unfold with pure joy, her heart swelling with love for the family they had built together. The bond they had forged through trials, triumphs, and love had stood the test of time, growing stronger with every passing year.
“Hey, how about we celebrate?” Divit suggested a playful glint in his eyes. “Let’s make it a family art day! We can all paint together.”
The children erupted with excitement, rushing to gather their supplies. As they prepared for the impromptu art session, Kirti took a moment to reflect on how far they had come. Their journey had not been easy, but every struggle had been worth it.
As the family settled in the garden, paintbrushes in hand, Kirti couldn’t help but smile at the chaos surrounding her. She looked at Divit, his laughter echoing in her ears as he chased after their children, a man who had transformed from a distant fighter into a loving husband and father.
“Here’s to us,” she whispered to herself, a silent toast to the love that had flourished beneath the surface.
“Mommy! Come paint with us!” Meera called, pulling Kirti back to the present.
“Coming!” she replied, her heart full as she joined her family in the vibrant chaos of love and creativity.
At that moment, with laughter echoing around them and love binding them together, Kirti knew that no matter the challenges that lay ahead, they would always face them as a family—stronger, braver, and forever united.
