A Part, Yet Apart

Epilogue- New Beginnings

Two years had passed after Manik and Nandini began their forever together phase of life. The Malhotra house hummed with a rhythm it had never known before! Honest, complicated, and finally, unapologetically real. Nandini stood in the bathroom, the early morning light casting harsh shadows on the pregnancy test in her trembling hands. Two pink lines. Or maybe one. The second was faint, a ghostly whisper that could easily be wishful thinking or a cruel trick of chemistry. She angled it toward the window, squinted, held it at arm's length, brought it close to her face and each position offering a different verdict. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a desperate drumbeat of hope and fear. Disappointment settled in her chest like cold water. She couldn't be certain. And uncertainty, in her experience, was just another form of waiting for heartbreak. "Why can't I never get any happiness".

She came out of the bathroom to find Manik still asleep, his face peaceful, one arm thrown across her side of the bed. The sight of him was so blissfully unaware of her spiraling thoughts, made something in her soften and ache simultaneously. She got ready quietly, brushing her hair, moving through the morning motions. He woke up just as she was fastening her watch. "Morning kiss," he mumbled, eyes still closed, hand reaching for her like a child asking for warmth. She leaned down, pressed her lips to his forehead, then his lips. "You look frustrated," he observed, finally opening his eyes, his gaze sharp despite the grogginess. "Are you nervous about tomorrow's launch?". The resort expansion. The biggest project of her career. She'd been working on it for months, and tomorrow was the soft opening. But her mind was oceans away from work. "Manik, I need to" she began, the words almost spilling out. 

The test, the lines, the uncertainty, the way her heart couldn't decide if it was breaking or mending. But he was already sitting up, stretching, cutting her off. "The launch is tomorrow, and you're nervous. That's normal. But you've got this. You've built something incredible. 7 verticals, 7 janam, the 7 sacred steps of marriage. The 7Vs (Vastram, Vajram, Vindhu, Veduka, Vedika, Vivaham and Viharam) of marriage, tumhara ye sapna poora hone wala hai" Manik said. His confidence was solid and unshakable. How could she tell him that her nerves had nothing to do with the resort? How could she say the words "I might be pregnant" when the test itself couldn't commit? They went down to the kitchen together, a routine that had become their anchor. Nyonika was already there, demanding her karam dosa extra spicy, extra crisp. Manik immediately rolled up his sleeves. "Let me make round dosas for you," he announced to the room at large. "I've become a pro. Perfect circles, every time".

Nandini couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. Two years, and he still bragged about his dosa-making skills like he'd invented the dish. She moved to help him, their bodies falling into a rhythm they'd perfected. Him pouring the batter, her flipping the dosas, him plating them, her serving. As little Aarav waddled over and wrapped his chubby arms around Nandini's legs, his face pressed against her knees. "Mumma," he called her, the word still a miracle every time he said it. Even though Aarav usually calls her mumma, today it felt special. Nandini's expression softened instantly. She picked him up, settling him on her hip. He patted her cheeks with sticky hands, his eyes wide and trusting. "Play with him," Manik said gently. "I'll handle the rest". She took Aarav to the small corner of the kitchen where his toys were scattered, her heart both lightened and burdened by his weight. What would it feel like to hold her own child like this? To have someone call her "Mumma" not out of affectionate habit, but by right?

At the dining table, the dosas were served, golden, crisp and perfect. The family gathered, the morning chatter a comfortable hum. But Tara's face was drawn, her eyes shadowed in a way Nandini had been noticing for weeks. "Mavayya," Tara said suddenly, addressing Shrikant with a formality that made everyone pause. "I need to talk to you". Aryaman's hand shot out, gripping her wrist. "Don't" everyone's attention was on Aryaman. "It's closed, Tara. We've discussed this," he said, his voice low but sharp. Tara pulled her hand free, her chin lifting in a gesture Nandini recognized—Tara's quiet strength surfacing. "You discussed. You closed it. I didn't." She turned back to Shrikant. "You hired me once, when I needed it most. I'm not asking Aryaman for anything. I'm asking you. Rehire me. Please". The tension was thick in the air. The silence that followed was explosive. Aryaman's face went white. "You can't use shortcuts like these, Tara. That's not how" Aryaman was interrupted by Tara.