One month passed in a blur of wedding preparations, both in Mumbai and Delhi. The families were busy with arrangements, but for Aanya, the highlight of her days was always her calls to Mumbai.

Sometimes she spoke with Raghav, sometimes with his mother, but the brightest moments were when little Akira appeared on the screen. Barely a year old, Akira would chatter in her own gibberish, waving her hands, pointing at the camera as if calling Aanya closer. Though her words made sense to no one, her eyes and gestures carried a world of meaning.

Aanya would laugh, answering back in the same playful tone, as if she truly understood everything. With each call, her bond with Akira grew deeper, almost instinctive. Without realizing it, she had begun to accept the little girl as her own—from the very day she got engaged to Raghav.

For Aanya, happiness no longer came from the big things she once dreamt of. It came from Akira’s giggles, her clumsy hand-claps, and the way she rested her tiny head against the phone screen as if trying to hug her. That little bundle of joy had filled the emptiness Aanya didn’t even know she carried.

Raghav, too, noticed. Watching Aanya and Akira together—even if only through a screen—left him speechless at times. His daughter, who hardly let anyone into her world, had opened her heart to Aanya without hesitation. And Aanya, in return, embraced her with such warmth that it reassured him he had made the right choice.

The day Aanya’s family arrived in Mumbai, the atmosphere outside the airport turned unusual. A long convoy of sleek black cars pulled up—two SUVs with security guards and, at the center, Raghav’s own car. Passersby turned their heads, wondering who was being welcomed with such grandeur.

Inside, Aanya’s parents walked out with their luggage, surprised to see Raghav himself waiting at the entrance instead of sending someone else. The guards instantly moved to take care of their belongings, but Raghav’s focus was only on the elderly couple.

As soon as he saw them, he stepped forward without hesitation and bent down to touch their feet.

“Arre, beta…” Aanya’s father tried to stop him, a little overwhelmed, but Raghav looked up with a genuine smile.

“It’s my duty, Uncle,” he said warmly.

Aanya’s mother, a little flustered by the attention and respect, softly addressed him, “Raghav ji…”

Before she could continue, Raghav politely interrupted, “Please, Aunty… just Raghav. No ‘ji’ between us. You are elder to me, it doesn’t feel right.”

The couple exchanged a glance, touched by his humility. Still, Aanya’s father couldn’t help but ask, “But beta, what was the need for all this security and cars? We could have easily taken a cab to the hotel.”

Raghav shook his head firmly, his tone respectful yet decisive. “Uncle, you are Aanya’s parents. That makes you my responsibility now. This is not formality… it is important. Family deserves nothing less.”

As the guards carefully guided them towards the car, Aanya’s mother smiled faintly, whispering to herself, Aanya is in safe hands, after all.

They finally reached the hotel. Raghav walked ahead and informed them politely,

“Your luggage has already been sent to your rooms. These are the keys.” He handed them over carefully.

“Everything regarding the wedding arrangements will be handled by the managers. You don’t need to take any tension about it.”

Aanya’s parents exchanged a glance, visibly relieved.

Aanya, who had been quiet the whole time, finally asked softly,

“Raghav… where is Akira?”

At that, a small, rare smile curved on his lips.

“That little girl is just as excited to meet you, Aanya. She’s at home with my mother right now. By evening, they will come here. Once they’re here, we can all have dinner together… there you can meet Akira.”

Aanya nodded, her face showing a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Without another word, Raghav guided them gently toward their rooms, ensuring their comfort first, before stepping back with his usual composed grace.

Dinner was kept as a quiet family affair that evening. Everyone gathered in Raghav’s suite—Aanya with her parents, and on the other side, Raghav’s mother with the little princess of the house, Akira.

The moment Akira’s bright eyes spotted Aanya, she almost jumped in her mother’s lap. The one–year–old’s joy was beyond words. She stretched her tiny arms toward Aanya, and the second she was in her embrace, Akira clung to her, giggling and babbling in her own little language as though she was complaining about why Aanya took so long to come.

The sight brought warmth to everyone’s heart. Aanya laughed softly, planting a kiss on Akira’s soft cheek, while the baby nestled closer, refusing to let go. Raghav, watching silently from the side, instinctively picked up his phone. His initial thought was to capture his daughter’s innocent smile—but when he clicked the picture, the frame held something more. Akira resting in Aanya’s arms, her laughter mingling with the baby’s joy. Something about that image tugged at his chest, and without a second thought, he saved it as his wallpaper.

Soon, they all sat down for dinner. It felt homely, filled with quiet chatter, clinking cutlery, and the soft sound of Akira’s playful noises. At one point, Raghav leaned toward Aanya and said gently, “Give Akira to me. You should eat peacefully.”

But Aanya shook her head with a smile, adjusting Akira on her lap as she balanced the plate with ease.

“It’s alright,” she said softly. “I can handle her.”

Raghav looked at her for a moment longer than necessary, an unreadable expression passing across his face, before leaning back silently.