The Charade

The Final Epilogue~ The Angel

AUTHOR POV

"You weren't needed here, Reyaan," Adhikrit rasps, his voice low and frayed as he storms out of the operation theatre, running a hand through his hair in a restless motion. His footsteps echo down the sterile hallway, but Reyaan doesn't flinch—he's already sitting on the sofa, arms tightly crossed, jaw set.

"You're wrong," Reyaan replies, his voice flat. "I'm needed here more than you ever will be. I'm about to become a brother for the first time. You? You're just repeating fatherhood." He pauses, eyes narrowed. "And Dad—if you say one more thing about me, I swear I'll stop pretending I haven't been listening to you spiral for the last ten minutes. I'm running out of patience."

His tone is cool, almost indifferent.

Adhikrit groans, dragging a hand down his face. He begins pacing again, like a man trying to outrun the storm in his own chest. Why wouldn't he be a mess? Kashi—his Kashi, his sweetheart, his wife, his world—was inside that room, fighting pain to bring their child into the world.

A child he hadn't even wanted.

But wanting or not, he can't lie to himself now. He's scared. Terrified. For her. For the baby. For everything he didn't say out loud.

"Dadi. Dadu," Reyaan says suddenly, standing up straighter as Omkar and Ranjana Agnihotri come into view.

(Grandpa, Grandma.)

"My child," Omkar breathes, sweeping Reyaan into a tight, almost suffocating hug. Reyaan stiffens—he's never liked hugs—but says nothing, letting his grandfather hold him.

Ranjana places a warm kiss on top of his head, her hands trembling slightly. They had just returned from Vrindavan after completing a pooja—for Kashi's safety, for the life yet to be born.

"Adhikrit, what did the doctors say?" Ranjana asks gently.

Adhikrit mutters something, but it's incoherent—his voice barely reaching their ears.

Reyaan rolls his eyes, stepping forward with more clarity than a boy his age should ever need to have. "The doctors said Mom's stable, and as of now, there won't be any complications. So there's no reason to panic."

It's him—the ten-year-old—calming the adults. While the man who's supposed to have it all together falls apart just outside the doors where life begins again.

Then, the OT light flicked off.

Adhikrit's breath caught in his throat as the red glow above the door dimmed into nothing. For a heartbeat, he couldn't move—his feet rooted, chest rising and falling like he'd just run a marathon without ever leaving the hallway.

The doors creaked open.

A doctor stepped out, mask lowered, face calm. Adhikrit surged forward instantly, his voice barely more than a rasp. "How are they? Can we meet them?"

"They are safe. Yes you can meet your wife and..."  the doctor who was replying with a soft smile while  adjusting the stethoscope around her neck gasps as the family barges inside.

Adhikrit was through the doors, heart thudding against his ribs like it wanted out. Reyaan was right behind him, quick on his feet, his eyes flicking across the room. Omkar and Ranjana followed quietly.

Inside, the lights were softer, the air humming with the whir of machines and the soft coos of a newborn.

In one corner, a small crib cradled the tiniest body wrapped in white. But it wasn't the baby Adhikrit looked at first.