After finishing dinner, Poornima yawned, brushing her hair back before slipping under the covers. Veeresh followed, laying down on the other side of the bed. The room was dim, quiet except for the soft rhythm of breathing and the faint hum of the night outside.

Poornima’s hand rested gently on her rounded belly, a serene expression on her face. Within moments, she drifted into sleep, small sighs escaping her lips with each breath.

Veeresh’s eyes softened as he watched her. His lips twitched into the smallest of smiles as his mind wandered. What would she be like if this… if this baby were mine?

He imagined her swollen belly, perfectly round, the gentle curve so soft and delicate. He pictured her cheeks, her hands, her whole presence—chubby, cute, innocent in ways that belonged only to a mother carrying her child.

A laugh almost escaped him, but he caught himself, shaking his head. No. She is Pavan’s. Not mine.

His jaw tightened, a pang of guilt washing over him. I am just fulfilling my promise… my promise to my best friend who stood by me through everything. That’s all I am. Nothing more.

Veeresh leaned back, his hand brushing the sheets beside hers, careful not to touch, careful not to cross boundaries he had set for himself. Slowly, he closed his eyes, letting exhaustion take over, yet the warmth in his chest lingered—a quiet reminder of the closeness he couldn’t yet admit.

Sleep claimed him finally, leaving the room in perfect silence, with only Poornima’s soft breathing and the quiet glow of the night.