[13th February 2025 – The Next Morning]
[MAHESHWARI MANSION – Aria's Bedroom]
Winter sunlight crept in through the ivory curtains, turning the room in pale gold. It spilled softly across the polished mahogany floor, skimming over a pair of half-zipped suitcases, a clutter of pacifiers and unopened formula tins, and the once-regal bedroom that had quietly surrendered its sophistication to chaos.
Now, it was a makeshift nursery, stitched together with pastel blankets, burp cloths, and toys shaped like forest animals.
In the air lingered the mingled scent of lavender oil, warm milk, and sandalwood—a scent that had, overnight, become the smell of motherhood.
Two strollers stood near the bed like twin lifeboats in a stormy sea. In them, wrapped in moonlight-colored swaddles, slept Dev and Navya. Just over six weeks old, they wore the exhaustion of tiny emperors conquering the world one nap at a time.
Their breaths were steady, rhythmic. Dev's fingers twitched in his sleep, like he was clutching a dream. Navya's lips parted in a delicate sigh, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks.
Crouched beside them, barefoot and shirt half-buttoned, was Manik Maheshwari.
His hair was a beautiful disaster. A stubborn milk stain gleamed from his shirt, but he was far too enchanted to care. And his eyes, wide and adoring, held the pure kind of joy only seen in people who hadn't yet learned to guard their hearts.
He held his phone in both hands, reverent as a relic collector before a pair of sleeping gods.
"All right," he whispered solemnly, angling the camera down. "Skittle One and Skittle Two, I swear on every last one of my followers… you are the most devastatingly adorable humans I've ever met. And I, your glorious, ridiculously handsome Mamu, vow to protect you, pamper you, and spoil you until your mom loses her mind."
He leaned in comically close, phone nearly grazing Dev's onesie, and grinned like a teenager seeing magic for the first time.
He shifted, camera angled for maximum baby-to-influencer connection.
Navya stirred first, blinking up at the blur of him. Her tiny hand reached upward like a moth seeking light—grazing Manik's nose.
He froze. Cross-eyed. Completely enchanted.
"I've been chosen!" he gasped, as if knighted."She touched my face. I am the Chosen One."
But before he could bask in glory, Dev—clearly not one for quiet fandom—suddenly let out a loud, almost theatrical sneeze. Right onto Manik's chest.
Manik stared down at it, his mouth opening in slow-motion horror.
Then to Dev.
Then back to the shirt.
"Okay. Wow. " He looked personally offended. "That was unprovoked. Weaponized cuteness turned biological warfare. Betrayal."
He looked at them both—Navya now gurgling with what was suspiciously close to a giggle, Dev kicking his feet like a small prince who knew exactly what he'd done.
"Unbelievable," he muttered. Then cracked up. "I'm under the attack of the cuties."
The door creaked open behind him.
Aria stepped out from her walk-in closet, a long navy-blue anarkali with white trim, her damp hair clung in soft waves to her collarbone. She wore no jewelry except a pair of delicate silver earrings and no makeup save for the faint flush of fatigue under her eyes.
And still, she was radiant. Not the poised, picture-perfect kind—but the kind carved by endurance. A beauty held together by ritual and willpower and the fierce quiet of a woman who didn't have time to fall apart.
She watched her little brother for a long moment, crouched on the floor like a human tripod, talking to babies who had no clue what he was saying but had somehow already claimed his heart. His shirt stained, his goofy grin, his joy loud and clumsy and utterly unfiltered.
And just like that, something inside her, brittle and exhausted, melted.
"You're already corrupting them," she said.
Manik turned with all the pride of a man who'd just tamed lions.
"I prefer the term 'mentoring'," he replied. "Mamu training. Level One. Their tiny souls need guidance. It's my duty to ensure they grow up knowing how much cooler I am than Vaibhav Bhai."
Aria folded her arms, amused. "They're six weeks old. They can't even hold their heads up. They blink at ceiling fans. What guidance are you offering?"
He scoffed. "Don't underestimate them. They're geniuses. Navya just winked at me. And Dev's sneeze? Rebellious art. He's going to be a revolutionary."
Navya cooed, as if confirming her allegiance. Dev let out a kick that nearly knocked off his sock.
Aria walked over, crouching beside the strollers. She gently adjusted Navya's blanket, then tucked Dev's sock back over his toes. Her touch was light, reverent. Like she was sealing them in warmth, or a prayer.
"They do like you," she murmured almost to herself.
"Obviously," Manik declared. "I'm already their favorite."
"More like pity," she said. "you look like one of their stuffed animals came to life."
"Excuse you, that is charisma. It's genetic. Thank you very much."
She raised a brow. "Who in our bloodline gifted you the clown gene?"
"Papa gave me heart. Mummy gave me charm. You gave me sarcasm." He grinned. "I'm unstoppable."
Her smile faltered—only slightly—at the mention of their mother.
But it returned when she looked at him again—sweaty, chaotic, happy, still barefoot and his eyes shining with nothing but love and awe.
He was still Manik.
Still untouched by the cold machinery that had turned so many Maheshwaris into masks.
And for one precious second, Aria felt something like peace. Because he was proof that not all innocence had been taken from this family yet.
"You named them Skittles." she deadpanned, finally noticing the marker-scrawled name tags taped crookedly to the strollers.
"Skittle One and Skittle Two," he said proudly. "Temporary codenames. Don't worry, I'll upgrade them when they're ready to rule the world."
Aria let out a sound that might have been a laugh or a sigh, then stood, brushing invisible dust from her sleeves and walked to the vanity.
"Remind me never to let you fill out their school applications."
"They'll be baby influencers by the age of two. I'm just preparing them for the spotlight."
Her expression turned steel-cold in an instant.
"Absolutely not," she said sharply. "No posts. No livestreams. No stories. Not even close friends. Got it?"
The fire in her voice snapped through the air like a vow.
There were lines even Manik wasn't allowed to cross.
He sighed, then nodded, tossing his phone dramatically onto the bed like a war hero surrendering his sword.
"Fine. Their debut shall wait."
She gave him a look that said thankyou and don't test me in equal measure.
She reached for her purse. "You're taking me shopping after breakfast. New baby furnitures, bottle warmers, backup formulas. They've outgrown half of what I brought from Himachal."
"Yes!" Manik stood, suddenly all energy again. Already pulling out his phone to make lists.
"Bottles, blankets, bibs, and backup pacifiers. Oh, and toys! And onesies! You won't believe what they're making for baby fashion these days—"
Aria shook her head, the rarest smile touching her lips. "Come on then, Mr. Best Mamu. Let's see if you're useful for something other than selfies and drama."
He puffed out his chest "Challenge accepted."
From the stroller, Dev let out a sharp babble.
Navya's toes curled, eyes bright.
And in that quiet nursery, filled with early sun, soft laughter, and the smallest sounds of a world beginning—
Aria Maheshwari allowed herself to believe —
Not in the lie.
But in the love.
And sometimes,
Just sometimes—
That was enough to keep going.
Even with lies curled tight around her ankles.