Sanya p.o.v....
As soon as Ayaan walked away from the room, I turned my gaze to aunty, who sat beside me, gently rocking the baby girl in her arms. Her eyes sparkled with love as she looked at the sleeping child. There was something so serene about her in that moment—a grandmother's happiness, a silent kind of peace that came only from love that asked for nothing in return.
I couldn't help but admire the scene before me. The baby looked so safe in her arms, and aunty's smile... it had that warmth you rarely see anymore. The kind that made you feel at home just by being around it.
She noticed me watching, and tilted her head, "Why are you staring at me like that?"
I smiled. "Because you look beautiful like this... smiling and cheerful."
Her cheeks turned pink with that graceful kind of shyness only mothers had. She let out a soft chuckle and turned her attention back to the baby, brushing a finger across her soft cheek.
But just then, her face shifted. That same cloud I saw during breakfast passed over her again. The light in her eyes dimmed slightly. I leaned forward, concerned.
"What happened, aunty?" I asked gently.
She let out a sigh, her fingers still softly patting the baby's back. "Every child needs a mother, beta... and Ayaan... he's not ready for marriage. He won't even talk about it. But one day, if he ever does agree... what kind of woman will marry a man with a child who isn't hers? Will she be able to accept this little soul as her own?"
Her voice cracked on the last word, and my heart tugged painfully.
I placed my hand on her shoulder, squeezing it lightly for comfort. "Aunty, please don't worry. You know Ayaan, don't you? He may act stubborn, but when it comes to decisions that matter—he never goes wrong. And when the time comes, he'll find someone... someone who will love this baby as much as he does. Maybe even more."
She looked at me, half-smiling through the emotion brimming in her eyes.
I added playfully, "And if not Ayaan, then we all know uncle has some legendary matchmaking skills. I'm sure his choice will be a one in a thousand. And we have seen it already." I said with a wink.
She laughed softly at that, giving my shoulder a light slap. "Pagal ladki," she said fondly.
We both laughed. The baby shifted in her arms, still asleep, still peaceful.
And for a moment... it felt like a family. Like this was what a home should feel like.
We both chuckled, and for a few seconds, the only sound in the room was the gentle breathing of the baby sleeping peacefully in her arms. She looked so content—tiny fists curled near her chest, her little chest rising and falling in a soft rhythm. A serene kind of calm surrounded us, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like this was home. Like this was what a real family should feel like—warm, grounded, and full of unsaid love.
Just then, aunty turned toward me with that ever-curious glint in her eyes.
"Okay now, tell me something about you," she said.
"About what?" I asked, feigning innocence.
She raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a teasing smile. "About your love life, of course."
I instinctively looked away, suddenly very interested in the intricate embroidery on the cushion beside me. "There's nothing like that," I muttered, praying she would change the topic.
But fate had other plans.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Ayaan entering the room, walking with that usual quiet confidence, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly messy like he'd run a hand through it too many times. He came and sat on the couch across from us, looking curious as he noticed the mischievous smile on aunty's face.
"I know, I know," she said dramatically, looking at me with a knowing expression.
Ayaan narrowed his eyes. "You know what?"
"About her love life," she answered casually, as if she was talking about the weather.
Ayaan's eyes immediately shifted to me. I didn't dare meet his gaze. Instead, I looked down, silently cursing the timing of his entrance.
"Aunty, please," I said under my breath, clearly uncomfortable with this direction of conversation—especially in front of him.
But she wasn't ready to stop. "What please? I'm just saying... you and that boy looked so good together," she said, matter-of-factly.
I snapped my head up.
Before she could say anything, Ayaan's voice cut through the room, louder than necessary. "Who that boy?" he almost demanded, eyes now sharply focused on aunty.
I looked at him, startled by his tone. But before I could figure out what he was feeling, he quickly averted his gaze, jaw clenched slightly.
Sharmila aunty, clearly enjoying every second, chuckled knowingly. "The one with whom your rumours were going on," she said with a playful glint in her eyes.
I blinked, confused for a second—because the only rumours I had heard were about me and her son.
My gaze instinctively darted to Ayaan, and just as I thought, he was already looking at me. His eyes held a mix of curiosity and something else... something unreadable. Before I could even open my mouth to clarify, aunty spoke again, her tone light and nostalgic.
"I forgot his name. But you two made so many videos together. And the way he used to look at you... it was so beautiful." She smiled softly, her eyes drifting off as if lost in some distant memory of her youth.
I turned back to Ayaan—and this time, I noticed. His jaw was tense. His fists were clenched slightly against his thighs. Subtle signs, but they were there. The playful glint in his eyes had disappeared.
Lots of videos together? Oh.
It hit me then.
Rayan.
My collab partner. A fellow influencer I had worked with for a few campaigns. The audience had loved our chemistry on camera, and naturally, the internet had done what it always does—start rumours.
I suddenly felt awkward, my voice small when I said, "Oh... Rayan. He's just a friend, aunty. We've only done work together, that's all."
But I wasn't sure who I was clarifying it for—her or Ayaan.
Ayaan didn't say a word. He just leaned back, his eyes fixed ahead now, lips pressed into a thin line. But I could see it—he was thinking something. Overthinking, maybe.
And I... I couldn't help but wonder why that mattered so much to me.
Then aunty, without a care in the world, casually asked, "Is he single?"
My heart skipped a beat. What?!
"I... I don't know," I muttered, looking anywhere but at her. "Why would I know that?"
Aunty just smiled like she was reading my soul. Leaning in a little, she whispered like she was sharing some top-secret advice, "You should ask him out."
My cheeks burned instantly, and I let out the most awkward laugh I'd ever made. "Ha-ha, Aunty!" I said, half in panic, half in disbelief.
I dared to glance at Ayaan.
His jaw was clenched now. His eyes—sharp, unreadable—were fixed right on me. That look could melt steel. I quickly looked away, swallowing hard.
What was this?
Aunty, of course, was enjoying every second. But me? I was sinking into the couch with every heartbeat... wondering why his reaction made my own heart act so stupid.
"Sharmila ma'am, sir is asking for you," one of the staff members said, walking in with a polite tone.
Aunty glanced at me and then at the baby, her smile still lingering. "Hold her for a bit, beta," she said softly, gently placing the baby into my arms.
I nodded and took the little one carefully, adjusting her against my chest. Her tiny hands curled into fists near her face, her breathing calm and even as she stayed asleep. Aunty patted my shoulder with a warm smile before walking away.
Now it was just me, the baby, and Ayaan.
He was still seated, elbows resting on his knees, eyes on the floor.
The silence between us was heavy—comfortable in moments, uncomfortable in others. The kind that said a lot without saying anything.
Then, after what felt like forever, he finally spoke.
"Sanya," he said, his voice low, softer than I had ever heard it.
I looked up at him, surprised. His gaze met mine briefly before flickering away. He looked like he was struggling to find the right words.
His lips parted as if to speak—but nothing came out.
I was about to look away, to save him the awkwardness—but then he said it.
"Thank you."
Two small words—but they landed like a whisper in a storm. Soft, unexpected, yet powerful enough to leave my heart unsteady.
I blinked, unsure if I had really heard him right. My eyes lifted from the baby's peaceful face to his—his expression unreadable, his voice lingering in the silence between us.
"For what?" I asked, almost breathless, my voice a mere hush.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, his gaze dropped to the baby in my arms—tiny, warm, fragile—then rose back to meet mine. There was something raw in his eyes. Something vulnerable. Something... familiar.
"For everything," he said finally. And this time, his voice cracked just slightly, as if the weight of those words were too much to carry alone.
And in that moment, I forgot how to breathe.
Because in his eyes, I saw something I hadn't seen in a long time—not since the days when things between us were simpler, when smiles came easy and silence didn't feel so heavy. It was that look. The one that once made me believe I mattered to him more than anything else.
I looked down at the baby, blinking back whatever emotion was threatening to rise. My fingers moved instinctively, gently stroking her soft cheek. Her tiny lips twitched in her sleep, like she could feel the tenderness in the air.
A small, bittersweet smile touched my lips.
"I'm just glad I could be there," I murmured, my eyes still on the baby. "For her... and for you."
The quiet stretched again, but this time, it wasn't uncomfortable. It was something else. Something softer. Something like healing.
And though I didn't look at him again right away, I could feel his eyes on me still—like maybe, just maybe, he was seeing me again. The way he used to.
Then, like a sudden breeze stirring still waters, a question bloomed in my mind.
Still looking down at the baby, I asked quietly, "So... what name are you going to give her?"
There was a pause. A long, thoughtful silence.
Before I could glance up at him, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I want it to be something special... because she's special to me."
That made me look at him.
And when I did—when our eyes met—I wasn't prepared for the honesty I saw in his. No masks, no teasing, no anger. Just raw sincerity.
My breath caught for a second. My heart, traitorous and loud, began to pound like a drum. I was certain he could hear it, could feel the shift in the air just like I did.
But I forced myself to look away. Back at the little soul sleeping in my arms.
Because feeling something in a moment... doesn't always mean it's time to hold on to it.
As we sat there in the silence my phone suddenly rang, shattering the stillness. The screen lit up with Aarav (Manager) flashing on it.
Before I could even move, Ayaan stood up, took the baby from my arms with such ease and care, and settled right beside me again, holding her like she was the most fragile treasure. The warmth of his closeness, his silent presence... it was doing something to me. Something I didn't want to admit.
I forced myself to focus, sliding my finger across the screen. "Yes?" I answered, keeping my voice neutral.
"Sorry, Sanya," Aarav said in a rushed tone. "I know today was your only free day, but a sudden meeting just came up."
I closed my eyes for a second. Of course it did. "Meeting?" I repeated, trying to block out Ayaan's steady gaze that I could feel burning into the side of my face.
"Yes. With Rosé Luxe International. The CEO flew in from the U.S. a couple days ago. He specifically asked to meet you before he leaves tomorrow. He's apparently seen all your recent campaigns and insisted on this meeting."
I frowned. "But our contract ended last month, didn't it?"
"Yes, but he's insisting. Says he has something new in mind and wants you onboard." Aarav's voice was persistent, but I could tell even he knew I wasn't thrilled.
I let out a long sigh and ended the call without saying much more. I just wanted today to myself... for once.
"What's wrong?" Ayaan asked, watching me closely now, the baby still peacefully asleep in his arms.
"Sudden meeting," I muttered, rubbing my forehead, the frustration obvious in my tone.
He raised his eyebrows, an amused look tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I didn't know fashion influencers were this busy and this grumpy."
I turned to him, one brow arching as I shot him a look. "And I didn't know politicians had time to sit around and judge people's careers while babysitting in designer shirts."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Touché."
But even as I pretended to be annoyed, I couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at my lips. Maybe the day wasn't ruined just yet.