3:17 AM –

Kashvi woke up gasping. Not from a kick.

This was different. Deep. Pulling. Real.

“Aditya.” Her voice shook. “Aditya, wake up.”

He was awake in 0.2 seconds. “What? What’s wrong?”

She gripped his hand. “Water broke. And… contractions.”

For one second, the CEO, the man who ran boardrooms, looked terrified.

Then Goa Aditya took over.

“Okay. Hospital bag. In the car. Deep breaths, baby. I’m here.” He was already dialing, pulling on a shirt, helping her sit up. All at once. “Mom’s 10 mins away. I called her. Your parents too,they’re leaving now.”

Another contraction hit. She cried out, clutching her bump.

“I’m here,” he said, dropping to his knees in front of her. Both hands on her face. “Look at me, Kashvi. Only at me. Breathe with me, okay? In… out… Just like we practiced.”

She locked eyes with him. In the dark. Especially in the dark.

“In,” he breathed. “Out.”

And just like that, panic became focus. Because he was there.

---

2. The Hospital – 4:30 .

Dadi was already there. Silk saree, prayer beads, eyes red but fierce.

“Beta,” she pulled Kashvi into a hug the second they wheeled her in. “Strong. You’re strong like your mother. Mera pota aa raha hai.”

Sia and Aryan ran in 5 minutes later. Sia was crying. Aryan looked like he’d aged 10 years overnight.

“My baby,” Sia choked, kissing Kashvi’s forehead. “My brave baby.”

“Dad,” Kashvi whispered.

Aryan just took her hand and kissed it. Couldn’t speak.

Aditya hadn’t left her side. Not once. His hand was white-knuckled in hers.

“Mr. aditya” the nurse said. “We’re moving her to labor. Only one person allowed inside.”

Three heads turned to Aditya. Dadi. Sia. Aryan.

Aditya looked at Kashvi. “Your call, jaan.”

Kashvi didn’t even think. “You. Only you. Goa balcony rule.”

Dadi nodded, tears falling. “Right. He should be there. I’ll wait. I’ll pray.” She pressed her hand to Kashvi’s cheek. “Bring me my grandson, beti.”

Sia kissed Kashvi one more time. “We love you. Both of you.”

Aryan just looked at Aditya. Man to man. Father to father. “Take care of my daughter.”

“I will,” Aditya said, voice like steel. “With my life.”

Hours. It felt like days.

Kashvi was sweating, screaming, crushing Aditya’s hand.

“You’re doing amazing,” he kept saying, crouched by her head. Wiping her face. Kissing her hair between contractions. “I’m so proud of you. So proud, Kashvi. One more. You’re almost there.”

“I can’t,” she sobbed. “Aditya, I can’t—”

“You CAN.” Fierce now. That Goa voice. “You’re the strongest person I know. Remember? You fought me in college over chutney. You can do this. For us. For Peanut. Look at me.”

She looked.

And pushed.

“Head’s here!” the doctor said. “One more big push, Kashvi!”

Aditya got in her face, forehead to hers. “One more, jaan. One more and we meet him. I’m right here. I’m not leaving. Ever.”

She screamed. Pushed with everything she had left.

And then —

A cry. Loud. Furious. Alive.

The room exploded into sound.

“It’s a boy!” the doctor announced. “Healthy baby boy, 3.2 kgs.”

Kashvi collapsed back, sobbing.

Aditya was crying too. Unashamed. Tears falling onto her cheeks as he kissed her everywhere — forehead, eyes, mouth.

“You did it,” he choked. “You did it, Kashvi. We have a son.”

The nurse placed a tiny, wriggling, red-faced bundle on Kashvi’s chest.

Time stopped.

Kashvi looked down. Aditya looked down.

Their son.

Tiny fists. Dadi’s nose. Aditya’s furious brow when he cried.

“Hi, Peanut,” Kashvi whispered, tears falling onto his head. “Hi, my baby.”

Aditya couldn’t speak. He just bent down and kissed his son’s head. Then Kashvi’s head. Back and forth. Like he couldn’t decide who he was more in awe of.

“We made him,” he finally said, voice broken. “You and me. We made him.”

---The door opened. Aditya walked out first, looking like he’d been through war. Hair wild. Eyes red. Shirt wrinkled.

Dadi stood. Sia stood. Aryan stood.

Aditya just nodded. Once.

Dadi’s hands flew to her mouth. Sia burst into tears. Aryan put an arm around his wife, his own eyes wet.

“Boy,” Aditya said, and his voice cracked. “It’s a boy. They’re both okay.”

“Can we see?” Sia asked, trembling.

Aditya stepped aside. “Room 302. She’s asking for you.”

Dadi went first. Sia and Aryan followed.

Inside, Kashvi was propped up, exhausted but glowing. And in her arms, wrapped in a blue blanket, was their grandson.

“Ma,” Kashvi whispered when she saw Sia.

Sia broke. “My baby had a baby,” she cried, coming to the bed. Aryan behind her, one hand on his wife, one hand reaching to touch his grandson’s head.

Dadi stood at the foot of the bed, hands folded, just… looking.

Then she came forward. Slowly. Touched the baby’s cheek with one finger.

......

Ch 100 ever after

7:00 AM

“RAAAWR!”

Aditya woke up to 25 pounds of pure chaos launching onto the bed.

“Dada monster!” Riyansh giggled, his tiny hands attacking Aditya’s face. “Wake up! Play!”

Aditya groaned, but he was already smiling. He grabbed their son and flipped him, pinning him gently to the mattress. “Oh no. The tickle monster got me.”

“No! Me tickle monster!” Riyansh squealed, squirming. “Mumma! Help!”

Kashvi was watching from the doorway, coffee in hand, hair messy, in Aditya’s old IIT hoodie. The same one from Goa.

“Should I help Dada or my baby?” she asked, fake serious.

“Mummmmaaaa,” Riyansh reached for her.

That was all it took. Aditya rolled, taking Riyansh with him, and grabbed Kashvi’s wrist, pulling her onto the bed too.

Now it was all three of them. A laughing, tangled mess of limbs and blankets.

“Family pile!” Aditya declared, wrapping one arm around Kashvi and the other around Riyansh. “Nobody move. This is mandatory Sunday cuddles.”

Kashvi tucked her head under his chin. Riyansh was sprawled across both of them, playing with Aditya’s chain.

“I love mandatory cuddles,” she mumbled into his chest.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing her hair. Then he looked down at Riyansh. “And I love you, little monster. Even at 7 AM.”

“Dada love Mumma more,” Riyansh said suddenly, very matter-of-fact.

Aditya blinked. Kashvi burst out laughing.

“What? Why?” Aditya asked his son.

“’Cause Dada always kiss Mumma first,” Riyansh explained, like it was obvious. Then he crawled up and smacked a wet kiss on Aditya’s cheek. “Now me first!”

Aditya looked at Kashvi over their son’s head. Both of them were trying not to cry. Damn toddler logic.

“Yeah, buddy,” Aditya said, voice thick. He pulled Riyansh in for a real hug. “Dada kisses Mumma first. Because without Mumma, there’s no us. No you. Got it?”

Riyansh nodded solemnly. Then: “Can I have pancakes now?”

And just like that, the moment was gone. Kashvi dissolved into laughter. Aditya threw his head back and laughed too.

“Pancakes,” he agreed, standing with Riyansh on his hip. “Come on, Chef Mumma.”

10:30 AM

Pillows for stumps. Rolled up socks for a ball. Riyansh’s plastic bat.

“Ready, Riyu?” Aditya was crouched, bowler mode.

“Ready, Dada!” Riyansh held the bat like a pro. Tongue sticking out. Exactly like Aditya.

Kashvi was on the couch, recording, her heart too full.

Aditya did a slow, dramatic bowl.

Riyansh smacked it. Right into the vase.

Crash.

Three of them froze.

Then Riyansh looked at Aditya, eyes wide. “Uh oh.”

Aditya looked at Kashvi. Kashvi looked at the vase.

And then they all burst out laughing.

“Wicket!” Aditya yelled, scooping Riyansh up. “That’s a SIX and a penalty, Mr. Singh!”

“Sorry, Mumma,” Riyansh said, burying his face in Aditya’s neck.

Kashvi came over, picking up the pieces. “It’s okay, baby. It was an ugly vase anyway.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed Aditya. Quick. Soft. “Good shot, though.”

“See?” Aditya told Riyansh. “Mumma loves us more than the vase.”

“Love you more than whole house,” Riyansh announced, wrapping his arms around both their necks.

Aditya met Kashvi’s eyes over their son’s curls.

We made him, his look said. This whole, perfect, chaotic him.

I know, hers answered. I love you. I love this. I love him.

---

. 3:00 PM –

“Nap,” Kashvi said.

“No nap!” Riyansh crossed his arms. Mini Aditya.

Aditya lay on the mat, patting the spot next to him. “Family nap. Rule. If Dada naps, Riyu naps.”

Riyansh considered. “Mumma too?”

“Mumma too,” Aditya confirmed, holding his hand out to Kashvi.

She lay down on Riyansh’s other side. Now they’d made a Kashvi-Riyansh-Aditya sandwich.

“Story,” Riyansh demanded, already yawning.

Aditya started. “Once upon a time, there was a very brave Mumma, who fought a dragon named Morning Sickness—”

“No!” Kashvi smacked him. “He’s 2, Aditya!”

“—and a very handsome Dada, who brought her mangoes,” Aditya continued, unfazed. He reached across Riyansh and took Kashvi’s hand. “And together they made a baby dragon. Named Riyansh. Who was very good at breaking vases.”

Riyansh giggled, sleepy. “And they love each other?”

“More than anything,” Kashvi whispered, kissing his forehead.

“More than pancakes?” Riyansh mumbled.

Aditya kissed his other temple. “More than pancakes, buddy.”

Riyansh was out in 2 minutes.

Aditya and Kashvi stayed. Watching him breathe. His little chest rising and falling between them.

“Hi,” Aditya whispered to her across their son.

“Hi,” she whispered back.

“I love you,” he mouthed.

She mouthed back, “I love you more.”

He grinned. Impossible.

Then, carefully, so he wouldn’t wake Riyansh, he leaned over their son and kissed her. Slow. Grateful. Happy.

Just three of them. In the quiet of their living room. Sunlight through the curtains.

Goa felt like a lifetime ago.

This? This was their forever.

---

The end ...

New story HIS CHAOS started on scrollstack,1st chapter is free...it revolves around people of different personalities and different cultures.will they ever be one or their love will face storms ...

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