Chapter 74 — In His Warmth

The house felt different after they returned from the hospital—quieter, softer, as if even the walls were careful around him.

Veeresh sat on the couch, watching silently.

Poornima moved slowly but steadily, checking his medicines, reminding him of timings, making sure he drank enough water. Her hand rested protectively on her belly every now and then—an unconscious gesture. Ramir and Rudra were in the kitchen, arguing lightly over salt and spices, while Mannat supervised like a general. Kayan and Kavya set the table without being asked.

A family functioning without noise, without drama—just care.

And that was what broke him.

Veeresh’s throat tightened. “Poons…” he called softly.

She turned immediately. “Yes?”

He looked at her—really looked at her. Pregnant. Forty. Tired, yet still standing strong for everyone. For him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low. “You shouldn’t be doing all this. You’re pregnant. You should be resting. The kids are taking care of me, you’re taking care of me… I feel useless.”

Poornima walked to him and placed her palm on his cheek. “Don’t,” she said gently. “I’m alright. I’m taking my tablets on time. I’m careful. And our kids—” she smiled toward the kitchen, “—they want to do this. Let them.”

He pulled her gently, making her sit on his lap. She gasped softly but didn’t resist.

Before she could say anything more, he leaned in and kissed her—slow at first, then deeper, full of emotion rather than urgency. She responded instinctively, her hands sliding around his shoulders, grounding him.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers. Then he bent slightly and kissed her belly with reverence, his palm covering it protectively.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For not leaving me, Poons. For staying. For fighting for me when I couldn’t.”

Her eyes softened, shining with emotion. She cupped his face.
“I will never leave you,” she said firmly. “Not in this life.”

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her as if she was the reason his heart was still beating.

“Come,” he murmured. “Sleep. You need rest.”

She nodded, suddenly feeling the weight of the day. He guided her gently, settling back against the couch, pulling her close so her head rested against his chest. His warmth surrounded her—steady, alive, reassuring.

As her breathing slowed and sleep claimed her, Veeresh looked down at her and whispered, more to himself than to anyone else:

“This… this is everything.”

And for the first time since the hospital, he slept too—holding his home in his arms.