Passion & Dilemma

Bonus~1

Sarthak's POV

"I have to get her out of that God forsaken school." I muttered to Prerna as we walked to our rooms with our kids following behind us and looking at the house in awe.

"You are overreacting." Prerna said, her tone bored.

Overreacting? OVERREACTING? My daughter has a fucking boyfriend when she is not even four who also happens to be kissing her cheeks.

"You are underreacting." I retorted, scoffing at her for not caring enough.

I opened the door to our room, only for Nidhi and Naitik to run past us and barge inside the room lile a hurricane.

"Wow!" Nidhi looked around with wide eyes while Naitik sprinted towards the bed.

Nidhi took off his shoes and helped him climb the bed, before she stood beside the edge of the bed and looked at the photoframe on the wall with her bold but innocent eyes.

"Why is she glaring at you?" She asked, pointing at the photo which was clicked in Nainital.

Prerna was completely unaware of me and my love for her, back then.

"Don't ask, beta." I feigned a sigh and walked towards the bed, with crossed hands, looking at the photo and then at Nidhi.

"Your mother is always glaring at me." I complained and Nidhi giggled before looking at Prerna, only to laugh louder.

Because Prerna was really glaring at me.

"See that." I chinned towards Prerna and got in the bed.

Naitik came running towards me and jumped before landing on my upper body.

"Ouch," I held him and placed him flat on the bed before burying my face in his chest and tickling him.

His cute laughter filled the room and I looked up to see his red face. He kept giggling just by looking at my face.

"Let them play. You come with me." I heard Prerna before both her and Nidhi dissappeared into the bathroom.

Naitik stood up on his tiny feet and ran to me, trying to attack me but his little self could not move me even by an inch. He looked down at his hands, as if he could not believe that all his power was not working on me.

"Yaaaaaaaaaah," he ran to me again and hit his head in my chest like a bull, only to roll back and fall flat on the bed.

He held his head and frowned at me as if I was his culprit. His lips formed a small pout and he rubbed his forehead before quietly sitting down on the bed, folding his head.

"Is it hurting?" I asked, touching his forehead.

And he nodded, his pout did not budge at all. He fisted his small hand and lightly punched my chest, as if trying to hurt me for hurting him.

"This is wall." He commented and knocked my chest again.

"This is your father's hardwork."

I pulled him to me before laying down in the bed. Naitik adjusted himself over my upper body and closed his eyes, burying his face in my chest. It did not take him a minute fall asleep.

My hand automatically began caressing his small frame, soaking in the feel of being a father.

I've often heard people talk about their fathers—how lucky they feel to have someone who works hard to provide for them. As a child, I used to think the same. But as I grew older, I realized that a father’s responsibilities go far beyond just earning money.