short tales - Chapter 29: Chapter 29

The night settled softly over the apartment.
It was one of those quiet, still evenings - the kind that made even breathing feel loud.
Aarika sat on the couch, her legs folded, a cushion hugged to her chest. The television was on but barely audible, some slow documentary she wasn't even watching.
Her body ached.
Especially her swollen feet.
She tried not to shift too much. Not to wince.
But Rivan noticed.
He always did.
From his spot on the other side of the couch, he set his phone down and tilted his head.
"Your feet hurt?" he asked softly.
She shrugged. "Just a little."
He didn't say anything.
Just moved.
Silently.
And sat on the floor in front of her.
Aarika blinked. "What are you-?"
"Shh," he said gently, lifting her legs before she could protest.
His touch was warm. Careful.
And when his fingers began to softly press into her sore arches, she sucked in a sharp breath.
Not because it hurt.
Because it felt... too good. Too familiar.
Her eyes fluttered closed.
She wanted to stop him.
But she didn't.
He didn't look up.
Just kept massaging - slow, steady, reverent.
Like he was trying to apologize through every stroke.
"You never let anyone touch your feet before," he murmured after a minute.
"You were the only one who ever tried," she replied without thinking.
His hands stilled for a moment at her words.
Then resumed - even gentler this time.
A few minutes later...
She shifted slightly, pulling her feet back and tucking them under her.
"Better?" he asked.
She nodded.
Rivan walked to the shelf, picked something out, then came back and sat beside her on the couch.
In his hand - a book.
The same book they had bought together once, during a college trip - a silly, sweet children's story about a lion who wanted to become a singer.
"You kept that?" she asked in surprise.
"Yeah," he said, flipping it open.
She opened her mouth to ask more - but then he looked at her belly.
"Can I?" he whispered.
Aarika hesitated.
Then, with the faintest nod, leaned back against the armrest and placed her hand over her bump.
Rivan placed his palm beside hers.
And then began to read.
His voice was lower than usual.
Soothing. Calmer.
"'The lion roared so loud, all the animals covered their ears. But deep down, he didn't want to scare anyone. He just wanted someone to hear his song.'"
Aarika closed her eyes.
The baby kicked lightly.
She smiled - just a little.
Rivan glanced sideways.
"She liked that."
"She?" Aarika whispered with a sleepy smirk. "It could be a boy."
He smirked too. "Nope. She's got attitude. Definitely your daughter."
Aarika chuckled - quietly.
The kind of laugh that hadn't left her lips in weeks.
Time passed.
She didn't even realize when her head tilted.
When her body, exhausted from the day, slowly leaned toward him.
When her hand found his arm for balance.
When her cheek found his shoulder.
And slowly...
She drifted off to sleep.
Right beside him.
Her breathing slowed.
Peaceful. Soft.
Rivan didn't move.
Not even an inch.
He closed the book and looked at her.
At the girl he'd fallen for in college.
At the woman carrying his child.
He whispered into the quiet:
"Sleep, Aarika. I'll keep both of you safe. Even if it kills me."
The apartment was silent.
The only sound - the faint ticking of the wall clock... and Aarika's soft, even breathing against his shoulder.
She had fallen asleep so gently.
Her legs curled slightly over the couch, one arm wrapped around her bump, the other loosely resting on his arm.
Rivan hadn't moved a muscle.
As if breathing too loud might wake her.
He gently adjusted her head against a cushion and placed a throw blanket over her - tucking her in like something fragile.
And then... he slowly sat on the floor, beside her. Right in front of her bump.
His eyes softened as he looked at it - her.
Their baby.
His hand moved forward... hesitated... then rested on the round curve of her belly.
The same bump that was growing... day by day... as proof that a piece of their love still lived.
"Hey," he whispered, his voice so soft it barely echoed in the quiet room.
"I don't know if you can hear me yet. But I need to say this."
He ran his fingers gently across the bump.
"Your mom... she's the strongest woman I've ever known. And the most stubborn too."
He chuckled under his breath.
"But she's mine."
His voice dropped.
"I know I hurt her. I know I left her alone when she needed me most. But I never... never stopped loving her."
He leaned down... resting his forehead softly against her bump.
"I chose the mafia world once. I made the wrong decision. I thought I was protecting her by pushing her away. But... it broke her. And me."
He swallowed, his voice trembling.
"I can't take back what I did. But I promise you, little one... you will never see your father choosing anything over your mother again."
A soft kick.
He smiled.
"I felt that," he whispered with awe.
"She's your whole world, isn't she?" he whispered again, stroking the curve of the bump gently. "Same here, baby. Same here."
He closed his eyes for a second.
Then lifted his head and leaned in, placing the softest kiss on her belly.
"You'll grow up loved. Protected. With both your parents."
Then his voice turned... darker. Possessive.
"Because no one - no past, no danger, no man or god - is allowed to hurt your mother again. She's mine. Meri jaan. Meri har saans."
He sat back, voice softening again.
"I'll wait. As long as she needs. But one day, she'll come back to me. Not just as the mother of my child..."
He looked up at her peaceful sleeping face.
"...but as my wife. Again."
And with that, Rivan curled up beside the couch, one hand still resting on her belly - guarding them in silence.
Like a lion watching over his world.