𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞: 𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐨 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲

Bonus Chapter Two

A U T H O R

5 years later...

Nikshant and Aaravi's lives changed the moment their daughter, Eshvika, was born. She was their miracle—a blessing wrapped in tiny giggles and chubby cheeks. The light of their home. The heartbeat of their world. Everyone adored her. She was the apple of every eye—and no one ever let a single scratch touch her.

In the morning, the silence of the room was broken by the soft creak of the door. Eshvika's tiny fingers gripped the handle, and with a gentle push, it opened.

She stepped inside, her little legs wobbling slightly, one arm held close to her side where it ached just a bit from a small stumble earlier, her curious black doe eyes searched the room until they landed on Nikshant.

Nikshant lay fast asleep, face buried in the pillow, breathing softly, his body sprawled on his stomach.

With careful determination, Eshvika climbed onto the bed, setting her box of paints beside her. She crawled across the sheets toward him, her eyes wide and full of innocent excitement.

"Papa," she whispered sweetly, "wake up. I brought paints. We'll play."

She giggled softly as she plopped down on his bare back, sitting like a little queen on her throne. Nikshant stirred beneath her, but didn't open his eyes.

"Papa," she said again, a bit louder, "wake up! It's morning! See, I woke up early too!"

When he still didn't respond, she huffed and grabbed his hair with her tiny fists, tugging gently but firmly.

Nikshant groaned, letting out a muffled yelp.
"Sleep, princess," he mumbled, half-asleep. "Just a little more..."

Eshvika let go of his hair with a pout, crossing her arms. She stared at him for a second, then her eyes slowly drifted to his bare back—and suddenly, those same eyes twinkled with a mischievous sparkle.

"Fine," she muttered with a tiny smirk, picking up her paints. "If you don't want to play with me, Papa... then I'll play on you."

Eshvika opened the box carefully, her tiny fingers reaching for the brightest colors—red, blue, yellow—her absolute favorites. She dipped the small brush into the paint, her tongue peeking out in pure concentration, and then...

The first stroke landed on Nikshant's back. A bold blue line, right across his shoulder blades. Eshvika giggled softly, her little hand steady as she painted on her sleepy canvas.

Nikshant stirred slightly, his brow twitching in response—but he didn't wake.

"You look like paper, Papa," she whispered proudly, even though she didn't quite know what she was painting. "My personal paper."

With that, she began painting stars—or something that looked vaguely like them.
And then, just as she leaned in with another stroke, Nikshant suddenly shifted, groaning sleepily.

Her brush trailed across his back like a streak of lightning, leaving behind a smudge of bright yellow.

"Wait... what is—why is it sticky?" he muttered, blinking groggily, his voice rough with sleep as confusion pulled at his expression.

Eshvika froze mid-stroke, brush in hand, wide-eyed. Then, as if nothing was out of the ordinary, she smiled sweetly.

"Good morning, Papa!"

Nikshant sat up slowly, frowning as he reached back and touched his shoulder—his fingers coming away damp and colorful.
He looked down at the open paint box. Then at his little artist—his daughter.