Just A Friend?

Epilogue

Three years had passed since that fateful day, and the once tumultuous love story of Prabhas and Sweety had blossomed into a serene, joyful life together. The sun shone brightly through the large windows of their cozy home, casting a golden hue across the room where Prabhas was currently engaged in a delightful but exhausting chase. His two-year-old son, Rohan, was darting around the house, giggling mischievously as his father attempted to wrangle him into his birthday outfit.

"Rohan! Stop running and let Papa put on your shirt!" Prabhas pleaded, half laughing, half exasperated as the boy darted out of his reach yet again.

Rohan giggles gleefully while sped into the kitchen where his mother, Sweety was busy stirring a pot of something fragrant and delicious.

Inside the kitchen, the aroma of freshly baked cake and savory snacks filled the air. Her six-month pregnant belly made her movements a bit slower, but there was a glow about her that made Prabhas's heart skip a beat every time he looked at her.

"Mumma! Daddy no let me play!" Rohan pouted adorably, running to hide behind his mother's leg. Sweety laughed, her laughter a sweet, melodious sound that never failed to make Prabhas's heart skip a beat.

"Is Daddy being mean to my little prince?" she teased, her voice playfully accusing as she bent down to ruffle Rohan's hair. Prabhas entered the kitchen, slightly out of breath, and rolled his eyes in mock exasperation.

"Oh sure, team up on me, why don't you?" Prabhas retorted but his voice warm with affection.

"I think your Papa is just trying to make sure you look handsome for your party. But if you want to stay in your pajamas all day, I guess that's fine too."

"No!" Rohan protested, the seriousness in his small voice making both his parents chuckle. "I wear shirt Mama got me!"

Prabhas, panting slightly from all the running, finally caught up and scooped his son into his arms, planting a kiss on his soft cheek. "You're a little troublemaker, you know that?"

"I'm Mama's boy!" Rohan declared proudly, looking at Prabhas with a grin that mirrored his mother's playful defiance.

"Oh, I see how it is," Prabhas replied, his tone mockingly wounded as he looked at Sweety, who was stifling a laugh. "You've turned our son against me already."

Sweety looked at him with a knowing smile, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Well, you know how it is. Once our little girl is here, you'll have your own team to back you up," she said, patting her belly.

Prabhas chuckled, a grin spreading across his face. "That's right! Just wait till my little girl is born—then we'll see who's outnumbered!" he declared, puffing out his chest in mock bravado.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Sweety shot back, sticking her tongue out at him, a gesture that Rohan quickly imitated with a giggle.

Then his son curiously looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Papa... when my baby sister come? And... she play with me?" His voice was sweet, filled with the pure wonder that only a child possesses.

Prabhas's heart melted at the question. He knelt down to his son's level and gently touched his cheek. "Soon, champ. And when she does, you'll be the best big brother in the world. You'll teach her everything you know, right?"

Rohan nodded eagerly, his small face lighting up with excitement at the prospect. But before Prabhas could say anything else, Sridevi entered the kitchen, her face lit up with joy. "Prabhas, let me dress this little rascal. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve," she offered, taking Rohan's hand with a wink.

"Grandma!" Rohan cheered, running over to her with glee. "Grandpa's waiting in the living room with a story, isn't he?" he asked excitedly.

Ragu, who had just walked in, chuckled as he nodded, "That's right, little man. Come on, let's get you ready while Grandma works her magic."