Shadows Of The Stumps

Chapter 143 - Feels like home, sounds like home and is home

A week later, sunlight streamed lazily through the balcony curtains, painting golden streaks across the living room floor. The apartment smelled faintly of vanilla and warm milk—home, with a trace of baby powder.

Meera sat curled into the corner of the couch, baby Tia nestled in her arms, wrapped in a peach blanket, her tiny fingers curled around Meera's pinky. She rocked her gently, murmuring nonsense lullabies only babies understood, as Ahan sat beside her, phone in hand, grinning at some meme he refused to share.

Across the room, Athiya was a whirlwind of pacing, her voice equal parts frustration and fondness.

"Your brother can't even come on time, Meera, seriously?" she said, glancing at the clock for what must've been the twelfth time. "My husband shows up late on his own birthday! Unbelievable."

Meera let out a soft laugh, adjusting the baby in her arms. "He'll come, Tithi. Relax. He might be stuck with the team."

Athiya groaned, tugging her hair back into a loose ponytail. "He always might be stuck with the team."

Ahan chuckled and nudged Meera with his elbow. "I think my sister's gone nuts."

Just then, the door opened and in walked Hardik, sunglasses pushed up into his curls, arms wide like he owned the place.

"Your husband's not here yet?" he asked, immediately pulling Athiya into a hug.

"Yeah, well, Rahul takes after his best friend, I guess," she shot back, smirking.

Hardik narrowed his eyes and pointed at her in mock betrayal. "You really going to blame me on his birthday?"

Laughter echoed around the room. The tension cracked, softened.

Hardik made his way to Meera next, gently brushing a kiss on her forehead before settling beside her on the floor. "So? What have you decided for the baby's name, huh?" he asked, turning to Athiya. "And don't give me that 'we'll post it on Instagram' nonsense. I want to know first."

Meera perked up at that, her head whipping toward Athiya. "Wait—you're revealing the name today?"

Athiya froze, caught in the spotlight.

"Tithi," Meera said, mock-offended, "why wasn't I told?"

Athiya pressed her palms together in faux apology, giving Meera the most dramatic puppy-dog eyes she could muster.

Before she could answer, Ahan chimed in, not even looking up from his phone. "Because you were too busy hunting cardboard humans at the academy, Meera."

Laughter again. But Meera didn't join this time.

She looked down at the sleeping baby in her arms—so small, so full of beginnings—and felt something shift inside her. A slow pang. Not jealousy. Not even regret. But a flicker of fear. That this—these moments of names and birthdays and inside jokes—might start slipping past her. That she'd miss more of them.

Because life was changing.

And somewhere, she wasn't sure if she could keep up.

_______________________

Hardik caught the shift in her eyes.

He always did—like he had a radar for her silences.

He nudged her lightly with his elbow, brows lifting in question. Meera blinked, shook her head quickly, then tucked a smile under her whine, "But what's the name? You promised we'd know today!"