The morning sunlight filtered softly into the bedroom. Poornima stirred awake and realized she had snuggled close to Veeresh during the night. She quickly sat up, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s a habit… it won’t happen again.”

Veeresh, still calm and composed as ever, gave a small smile. “It’s okay. I’ve heard pregnant women want a lot of warmth. It’s… natural.”

They both freshened up, the quiet morning filled with small gestures of care. Poornima moved to feed Anaya, who giggled at the sight of her mother preparing breakfast.

Suddenly, Poornima’s eyes widened, and she gasped. “Veeresh… my water broke!”

Veeresh’s sharp instincts took over immediately. “Hold on. Let’s go—now!” He grabbed the hospital bag, helping her into the car, his mind focused and calm as he drove through the streets.

At the hospital, the doctors were ready. The atmosphere buzzed with tension, hope, and excitement. Hours later, after a flurry of activity, the cries of a newborn filled the delivery room.

“It’s a boy!” the doctor announced.

Veeresh’s eyes followed Poornima’s hand as she lifted the tiny child. Without hesitation, he held the baby carefully, his large hands cradling the fragile life. He bent down and kissed the child’s forehead, whispering softly, “Welcome… my son.”

Anaya’s eyes sparkled as she leaned close. “My cute brother! Happy birthday, Appa!”

Poornima smiled through her exhaustion, tears of happiness sliding down her cheeks. Veeresh looked at her, then at their children—Anaya and the newborn—and a warmth he had never admitted to himself spread through his chest.

“The best gift I could ever receive,” Veeresh whispered, holding the tiny life close. “Thank you, Pavan… for trusting me.”

In that moment, the pain, the grief, the promises—they all merged into a single, perfect memory. A family had truly begun.