In the quiet stillness of the ward, Siyanshi lay asleep after feeding their newborn baby boy, her face peaceful, exhaustion softened by a serene smile. The room was filled with a gentle hush, broken only by the faint sounds of breathing and the soft rustle of fabric. Vaidaksh sat beside her bed, cradling their son carefully in his arms, as if holding the most precious miracle the world had ever known.

The baby gazed up at him with wide, curious eyes, tiny yet intense, as though already trying to recognize the man whose heartbeat he had heard for months. Vaidaksh couldn’t tear his eyes away. He leaned down again and again, pressing soft kisses to the baby’s forehead, the same way he always kissed Siyanshi, slow, protective, full of love. Each small stir from the baby made his heart soften further, his grip instinctively tightening, afraid of even the slightest discomfort to this little life.