The rhythms of the Singh household had finally settled into a harmonious hum. For Avni and Divyansh, life was moving with a rare, gilded smoothness. The air in the house was thick with the scent of marigolds and celebration, as Vivek’s engagement to Kajal had set a countdown in motion—only two months remained until the wedding. Vinayak and Ridha moved through the halls with a renewed spring in their step, deeply moved by the providence of seeing both their sons find their life partners within a single year.
For Avni, the peace was hard-won. She had finally achieved the quiet she deserved, having severed all ties with her uncle’s family. The shadow of Amol no longer loomed over her; he was behind bars, awaiting the slow wheels of justice to turn in court. Even when Arti tried to claw her way back into Avni’s life, Avni didn't flinch. She simply filed a restraining order, building a wall of glass and steel around her new-found sanctuary.
However, over the last few days, a different kind of shadow had begun to fall—not one of malice, but of physical exhaustion.
It started as a dull weight in her limbs. For two days, Avni felt as though she were walking through chest-high water. Nausea bubbled in the back of her throat at the most inconvenient times, and a persistent bloating made her feel disconnected from her own body. Most peculiar of all was her heightened sense of smell; the aroma of the morning coffee, which she usually loved, now hit her like a physical blow.
At first, she brushed it off. Work stress, she told herself. The wedding preparations. But in the quiet moments of the morning, a realization struck her like a lightning bolt. She checked her calendar. Her period was three weeks late.
The thought sent a shiver of both dread and wonder through her. Hormonal changes, she rationalized, her heart hammering against her ribs. It’s just the stress.
By Sunday morning, however, the denial collapsed. The sickness was no longer a suggestion; it was an anchor. She lay in bed, the sunlight mocking her as she found herself unable to even sit up. Divyansh, who had been watching her with mounting anxiety for weeks, hovered by the bedside. To him, her refusal to see a doctor wasn't just stubbornness—it was a tragic reflex. He knew that for Avni, hospitals were not places of healing, but cold monuments to the demise of her parents and the memory of his own horrific birthday accident.
“Avni, enough,” Divyansh said, his voice dropping to a register of steel. “I’m not listening to any more excuses. I’m taking you to the hospital. I don't want to hear another word of nagging. We are going right now.”
Avni looked up at him, her face pale but her eyes sharp. “You’re right,” she whispered, surprising him. “We should go. But... there’s something I need to confirm here first.”
The word pregnant hung unspoken in the air. Their intimate life had been a source of deep connection for months, but the transition from "the two of them" to "three" felt like a leap across a canyon.
“What is it, Jaana?” Divyansh asked, his brow furrowing.
“Divyansh, my symptoms... they aren't random. They’re a checklist,” she said, reaching out to catch his hand. Her grip was trembling. “I think I might be pregnant. Can you please go to the chemist and bring back a test?”
The silence that followed was heavy. Divyansh froze, his mind reeling. He looked at her, searching her face for a sign that she was joking, but he found only a shimmering hope masked by fear.
“I know it’s early for us,” she added softly. “But it’s possible, isn't it?”
“I... I was careful, Avni,” he stammered, his protective instincts clashing with the sudden image of a cradle. “I don’t think...”
“We weren't always careful, Divyansh,” she countered with a dry, irritated laugh. “Especially not those times when you were ‘too easy’ to convince. Now, stop standing there like a statue and go.”
The realization hit him like a physical force. “I... I could be a dad? A dad to a baby girl?” He stood up, suddenly possessed by a frantic energy, and began to pace the length of the bedroom.
“Ansh! Stop it!” Avni cried out, using his nickname to snap him out of it. “We haven't even confirmed it yet and you’re already picking out hair ribbons? What if I’m not?”
He stopped and looked at her, a mischievous, boyish grin breaking through his shock. “Well, if you aren't, we can certainly start working on it right now. I really want a daughter, Avni.”
“Go!” she yelled, throwing a pillow at him. “Buy the test first!”
He scrambled for his wallet and dashed out the door, leaving Avni alone with the ceiling and her thoughts. God, what am I going to do with him? she wondered. And please, if I am pregnant, give me a girl. I can’t handle two of him.
Fifteen minutes later, the front door slammed. Divyansh burst into the room carrying a bag large enough to hold a week's worth of groceries.
“Did you buy the whole pharmacy?” Avni asked, staring at the bulging plastic.
“Ma was in the hall. She asked where I was going, so I told her I was getting snacks. If I came back with a tiny paper bag, she’d know something was up,” he explained breathlessly, dumping three different boxes onto the bed.
“Three?”
“I didn’t know which one was the best! I bought every brand they had. Now, please, no more questions. I’m dying here. Just go.”
Avni gathered the kits and disappeared into the bathroom. The minutes that followed were the longest of Divyansh’s life. He paced until he wore a path into the rug, his hands buried in his hair. When Avni finally emerged, her face was unreadable.
“What is it?” he gasped.
“It takes a few minutes for the lines to appear,” she said, setting the three plastic sticks on the vanity.
They stood side-by-side, staring at the white windows of the tests as if they were waiting for a verdict from a high court.
“I wasn’t this nervous for my board exams,” Divyansh whispered, his voice cracking.
“Me neither,” Avni admitted.
The timer on her phone chimed—a digital herald of a new life.
“You look first,” she said, pulling back.
“No, you.”
“Together,” he decided, taking her hand and pulling her close. “Let’s see together, Jaan.”
They leaned in. One line. Then, a second, faint but undeniable. On the second test, a clear plus sign. On the third, the digital word: PREGNANT.
The world seemed to stop spinning. Divyansh remained perfectly still, his breath hitched in his chest. “I’m going to be a dad,” he whispered, the reality finally anchoring in his soul. “Avni... you’re going to be a mom.”
Tears spilled over his lashes as he pulled her into a crushing embrace. “Thank you. Thank you, Avni. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
Avni clung to him, burying her face in his neck. “Thank you, Ansh. For giving me a family. We’re actually doing it. We’re building our own happy family.”
The joy was overwhelming, but Divyansh’s protective streak quickly took over. “We need a doctor. Right now. To make sure you’re okay, and the baby is okay.”
“I already called,” Avni confessed with a small smile. “I made an afternoon appointment. Even if I wasn't pregnant, I needed to know why I felt so sick. Should we tell your parents before we go?”
“Let’s wait,” Divyansh said, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Let’s bring them a picture. An ultrasound.”
The doctor’s office was quiet, the rhythmic whoosh-whoosh of the ultrasound machine filling the room with the most beautiful sound they had ever heard. Avni squeezed Divyansh’s hand so hard her knuckles turned white as they stared at the grainy gray-and-white screen.
The doctor smiled, pointing to a tiny, flickering pixel. “There it is. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Singh. You are definitely pregnant. By my measurements, you’re about four weeks along. In about thirty-six weeks, you’ll be holding your son or daughter.”
They left the clinic floating on air. When they arrived home, the entire family was gathered in the living room—Vinayak, Ridha, Divya, Vivek, and Kajal. The television was blaring with the chaos of the election results. It was the perfect moment for a different kind of landslide.
Divyansh walked to the front of the room and, without a word, clicked the television off.
The silence was immediate and indignant.
“Divyansh Singh!” Vinayak roared, rising from his chair. “Have you lost your mind? The results are coming in! Do you have any idea what’s happening in the polls?”
“Dad,” Divyansh said, his voice calm but vibrating with emotion. He pulled Avni to his side. “We have an announcement. Something a lot more important than the election.”
Vinayak’s anger vanished instantly, replaced by a wary curiosity. Ridha leaned forward, her heart already knowing what her ears hadn't heard yet. “What is it, Beta?”
Divyansh and Avni shared a look, a silent countdown.
“We’re pregnant,” they said together.
The room went deathly silent. Vivek sat frozen with a glass of water halfway to his mouth. Vinayak looked as though he’d been struck by lightning.
“You... what?” Vivek finally managed.
“Avni is one month along,” Divyansh said, his pride beaming through every word. He reached into his pocket and produced the ultrasound thermal. “We’re going to have a baby in nine months. And here... here is the first ever photo of your grandchild.”
The explosion of joy was instantaneous. Ridha let out a sob of pure happiness, rushing forward to fold Avni into a hug. She kissed Avni’s forehead before turning to her son, slapping his arm lightly through her tears. “I can’t believe it! You—who are still a toddler yourself—are going to be a father!”
“Ma, stop calling me a toddler!” Divyansh whined, though he was grinning ear to ear.
Vinayak let out a booming laugh that seemed to shake the walls. He hugged Avni tightly. “Well, this is a much better victory than any election! I’m going to be a grandfather!” He pointed a stern finger at Divyansh. “You listen to me, you idiot. You take care of her. If you don't help her with every single thing, you’ll answer to me.”
Vivek pounded Divyansh on the back, his eyes bright. “Congratulations, brother. I can’t wait to see you try to change a diaper. Avni, don't let him spoil the kid—we all know he’s going to be the ‘fun’ parent. You’ll have to be the strict one.”
Kajal joined in, her smile warm and genuine as she hugged them both. Even the servants of the house seemed to sense the shift in the atmosphere.
“This calls for a celebration,” Divya announced, wiping her eyes. “Tomorrow, we distribute sweets to the whole of Mumbai! My house is finally going to hear the sound of a baby’s footsteps again.”
As the evening wore on, the Singh house was filled with a light that had nothing to do with the lamps. For Avni and Divyansh, it wasn't just a piece of news—it was the beginning of a legacy. A new journey had begun, paved with the promise of a future they had once only dared to dream of.
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