Here After!

49. Cracks and Mendings

The house was quieter than it had been in days, yet the silence between Anu and Giri wasn't empty—it was heavy, layered, waiting to tip one way or the other.

Giri sat at the dining table, absently stirring his coffee, his eyes drifting toward the closed bedroom door. Anu was resting, just as he had asked her to, but something told him sleep hadn't come easily, not after everything.

She had held his hand, called his name... and then let the words die on her lips. What had she wanted to say?

A sigh left his lips as he pushed the cup away. The past few hours had given him time to reflect—to fully grasp the weight of his actions, the fear that had driven him to nearly abandon everything he had ever wanted. He had almost lost her. Almost lost this moment, this life growing within her.

No, he couldn't afford to live in 'almost' anymore. He had to face the cracks he had caused.

A quiet creak interrupted his thoughts. He turned to see Anu stepping out of the bedroom, one hand pressed lightly against her belly, the other smoothing the creases in her dupatta (scarf).

Their eyes met. A moment passed—too long, too short. Then, finally, Anu spoke.

"Giri... can we talk?"

Anu hesitated for a moment before sitting across from Giri at the dining table. Her fingers traced the rim of an empty glass, a quiet restlessness in her movements.

"We need to tell them," she said finally, her voice soft but firm. "both Mom and Dad deserve to know. "

Giri exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. He had known this was coming, but somehow, the thought of sharing the news—of letting their families into this fragile, just-blooming reality—felt overwhelming.

"I know," he admitted. "But do you think we're ready?"

Anu frowned, tilting her head. "Ready for what?"

He sighed, searching for the right words. "For the questions. The expectations. The opinions." His voice dropped slightly. "For them to remind us of everything we already know—the years we waited, the pain we endured, and... and the way I almost ruined it."

Anu's expression softened. She reached across the table, her hand covering his. "Giri, we're past that. It's not just about us anymore. Our baby... our families... they deserve to be part of this."

A beat of silence stretched between them.

Then, after a long moment, Giri nodded. "You're right," he said, squeezing her hand. "But let's wait until the next checkup. Let's settle into this first—just you, me, and..." His lips quirked into a faint smile as his gaze dropped to her belly. "Our little one."

Anu considered his words. There was a certain sense of comfort in them—a chance to breathe before stepping into the inevitable whirlwind of family emotions.

Finally, she nodded in agreement with him.

The days that followed were different—not in obvious ways, but in the quiet undercurrents of their life together.

Giri found himself watching Anu more closely, noticing the smallest changes. The way she paused before standing up, the way her hand absentmindedly rested on her belly when she thought no one was looking.

And Anu... she felt the weight of his gaze, his silent attempts to be present in ways he never had before. It wasn't perfect—there were moments when old wounds resurfaced, when the past still lingered between them like an uninvited guest. But they were trying.