Chapter: Where Laughter Sits at the Table

The dining table was full—not just of food, but of noise, warmth, and belonging.

Veeresh leaned back in his chair, pretending to look serious, eyes fixed on Charles.

“So tell me, stock market hero,” he said, lifting his eyebrow,
“how did my money behave today?”

Charles smirked, already enjoying this.
“Behaved exactly like you, Dad,” he replied.
“Unpredictable.”

Siya burst out laughing.
“Mamma, see! Papa thinks he understands stocks.”

Mannat joined in, shaking her head.
“Papa still thinks intuition works better than numbers.”

Veeresh scoffed.
“Hey—intuition built this house.”

Charles grinned wider.
“And logic is building mine.”

The table erupted.

Veeresh pointed a finger at him.
“I taught you everything.”

Charles shrugged innocently.
“Exactly. That’s why you still can’t determine market trends.”

Veeresh groaned dramatically.
“But still—I am not able to crack it!”

Poornima watched all this quietly, heart full.

Rudra sat a little away, patiently guiding Inayat and Adwait through homework.

“No, no,” he said gently.
“This is seven, not one. Again.”

Inayat pouted.
“Bhaiya, you’re strict.”

Rudra smiled.
“Doctor’s discipline.”

Adwait giggled, scribbling faster.

Poornima looked at the table—
Children teasing their father.
Siblings laughing without fear.
One helping, others joking.

A life she once thought impossible.

“Veer,” she said finally, pretending to be stern.
“Leave the stock market for tonight. All of you—come eat.”

Veeresh raised both hands in surrender.
“I lost today,” he announced dramatically.

Charles laughed out loud.
“Officially.”

Veeresh shot him a glare.
One that lasted exactly two seconds before he broke into a grin.

Poornima began serving everyone, moving around the table with practiced ease.

As she leaned forward to serve Veeresh, he quietly punched her waist, playful and possessive.

She gasped softly, shooting him a look.
“Veeresh…”

He whispered back, amused,
“What? I lost in stocks, not in life.”

She shook her head, hiding a smile.

The table filled with clinking plates, laughter, teasing, and warmth.

Not perfect.

But whole.

And Poornima knew—
This was happiness.

Not loud.
Not dramatic.

Just a family eating dinner,
loving each other exactly as they are.