The GIRLFRIEND Deal

EPILOGUE

For the first time in weeks, Anika hated how well Shivaay knew her routine.

Because if he had the slightest idea how often she’d been double-checking dates on her phone, or how many times she’d stood in the pharmacy aisle and then walked out without buying a test, he would’ve noticed.

But she hadn’t told anyone.

Not yet.

Not even him.

Not until it was real — confirmed, undeniable, certain. She wasn’t about to start a family group panic based on a maybe.

So, that morning, she took a quiet detour before work — to the hospital. To their doctor. Just to be sure.

It felt strange, sitting alone in the waiting room. No Shivaay beside her with his usual controlling energy and dramatic sighs. No family. Just her, fidgeting with the ring on her finger.

The doctor had smiled. Asked her to wait a day. Routine stuff. “I’ll call with the final report tomorrow,” she’d said. Anika nodded, playing it cool, even though her heart felt like it was sprinting in her chest.

That was yesterday.

This morning, Anika was home, in the shower, humming to herself and trying not to spiral. The phone on her nightstand buzzed just once. Shivaay, halfway through tying his tie, saw it light up:

Dr. Mehra (Gynae)

He picked it up instinctively. “Hello?”

A warm, cheerful voice answered. “Ah, Mr. Oberoi! Congratulations to both of you! Anika’s reports are in — she’s pregnant.”

Silence.

Shivaay blinked.

“What?” he asked, except it wasn’t a real question. It was more like a sound his brain made as it crashed.

“She’s—” he paused, straightened his back, and cleared his throat like he was on a board call. “She’s pregnant?”

“Yes! It’s all good news. Tell her I’ll text over the follow-up details.”

He mumbled something that might have been “Thank you. Please send her the details tomorrow” and hung up.

And then he just… sat down. On the edge of their bed. In total silence.

He stared at the phone in his hand, his mouth slightly open, his mind flatlined. He deleted the call log.

Pregnant.

Anika. Pregnant.

They were going to have a baby.

Holy—

Shivaay was still stunned, when the sound of running water stopped.

A moment later, the bathroom door opened, and Anika stepped out, her hair damp and clinging to her neck, wrapped in a soft robe, fresh from the shower. She was toweling her face, humming to herself—utterly unaware of the emotional explosion that had just detonated in their bedroom.

She looked up and found him staring.

“You okay?” she asked, pausing mid-step. “Bhoot dekhlia?”

Shivaay blinked, then stood, still not speaking. He walked over slowly and gently took the towel from her hands.

“What—?” she started, but he cut her off softly.

“Sit,” he said, guiding her to the chair in front of the vanity she designed. She raised an eyebrow but sat, watching him in the mirror with cautious curiosity.