6 years later

It had been six years since a bubbly girl from Bhopal had walked into this family, and five and a half years since she had officially become Mrs. Aditi Siddharth Mehra. In that time, the house hadn't just changed, it had come alive.

"Mumma! No! Mele baal!"

(My hair!)

A high-pitched, tiny voice squealed. Three-year-old Myra was running through the hallway, her tiny feet pattering against the marble floor.

She was a carbon copy of Aditi, the same mischievous sparkle in her eyes, the same dimples, and the same unstoppable energy.

"Myra, ruko! Do minute lagenge ponytail banane mein!"

(Myra, wait! It will take only two minutes to make a ponytail.)

Aditi shouted, chasing her daughter with a pink unicorn hairbrush in hand. The chase ended abruptly in the living room when Myra hid behind the legs of her grandfather. Meena's husband immediately picked up the toddler, shielding her from the hairbrush.

"Arre, meri princess ko kaun pareshan kar raha hai?"

(Who is troubling my princess?)

He asked, kissing Myra's chubby cheek.

"Papa, please samjhao na isse. Baal dekho iske, bilkul jungle lag rahe hain."

(Papa, please tell her. Look at her hair, looks like a jungle.)

Aditi pouted, hands on her hips.

"Chhodo na, Aditi beta. She looks beautiful however she is."

(Leave it, Aditi.)

Papa said, giving Myra a wink.

"Waisa tumne naashta kiya? Meena kitchen mein tumhare liye parathe bana rahi hai, ghee wale... jaise tumhe pasand hain."

(Did you have your breakfast? Meena is making paranthe for you, ghee ones…just like you like it.)

Aditi felt a wave of warmth. In five years, she had never once felt like a daughter-in-law. To this family, she was the daughter they never had.

Meena wouldn't let her enter the kitchen on weekends, and her father-in-law would always take her side whenever she and Siddharth had a mock argument.

"Maa! Aapne phir se mere liye alag se banaya?"

(You again made it separate for me?)

Aditi called out, walking into the kitchen. Meena turned around, smiling warmly as she flipped a paratha.

"Haan toh? Meri beti ko acidity ho jati hai tel ke khaane se. Tu baith, main la rahi hoon."

(So? My daughter gets acidity due to oil. You sit, I am bringing it.)

Aditi hugged Meena from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder.

"Maa, aap log mujhe itna spoil kyun karte ho? Main bigad jaungi."

(You spoil me a lot. I will get spoiled.)

"Pehle se hi bigdi hui ho."

(You are spoiled.)

A voice joked from the doorway. It was Sarthak. He was leaning against the frame, looking at his phone with a goofy grin, but he looked up to stick his tongue out at Aditi.

"Chachu! Aap phil se mummy se maal khaoge."

(You will get beaten by mumma again.)

Myra giggled from her grandfather's arms.

"Sarthak, phir se phone mein ghuse hue ho? Riya se baat kar rahe ho na?"

(Sarthak, you are again engrossed in phone? Talking to Riya?)

Aditi teased, walking over to him.

"Shadi mein abhi teen mahine hain, thoda sabr rakho devar ji!"

(There are three months in the wedding, have some patience brother-in-law!)

Sarthak blushed, trying to hide his screen.

"Bhabhi, aap na... please! Hum wedding decor discuss kar rahe thhe."

(Bhabhi, you…please! We were discussing wedding décor.)

"Haa, haa, decor! I saw that 'I love you' GIF, Sarthak. Decor mein kabse dil aane lage?"

(Yes yes, decor!...Since when did décor have hearts?)

Aditi laughed, dodging the cushion Sarthak threw at her. The bond between them was effortless. Sarthak wasn't a brother-in-law, he was her best friend and partner-in-crime.

They still spent hours gossiping about everything, often teaming up to irritate Siddharth.

Later that evening, the front door opened, and the atmosphere in the house shifted instantly. Siddharth was home. He was still the same sharp, disciplined lawyer, but the moment he stepped inside, his briefcase was forgotten.

"Papa!"

Myra screamed, charging at him. Siddharth caught her in his arms, lifting her high.

"Meri jaan! Aaj kya kiya aapne?"

(My life! What did you do today?)

"Mumma ne mujhe daanta."

(Mumma scolded me.)

Myra complained, pointing a tiny finger at Aditi and pouted cutely. Siddharth's eyes moved to Aditi, who was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. His gaze lingered on her for a second longer than necessary, a look full of heat and deep affection.

"Achha? Mamma ne daanta? Toh phir aaj Mamma ki katti."

(Really? Mumma scolded? Then we will not talk to mumma.)

Siddharth said, kissing Myra's forehead.

"No!"

Aditi stepped forward, grabbing Siddharth's other arm.

"Siddharth, tell her that you love me more. Yeh ladki kal se bol rahi hai ki Papa sirf Myra ke hain."

(This girl has been saying since yesterday that Papa is only Myra’s.)

Myra hugged Siddharth's neck tightly.

"No! My Papa!"

"Nahi, mere husband hain pehle!"

(No, my husband first!)

Aditi countered, sticking her tongue out at the toddler. Siddharth laughed, a deep, rich sound that still made Aditi's heart flutter. He was sandwiched between the two most important women in his life, one a replica of the other.

"Okay, okay! I love Myra the most..."

Siddharth started, and Aditi's face fell into a dramatic pout.

"...but I can't live a single second without your Mamma. So, it's a tie?"

"No tie! Main winner hoon!"

(I am the winner!)

Aditi declared, pulling Siddharth toward their room.

"Chalo, Myra go to Dadi. Papa needs to change."

Once the door to their bedroom clicked shut, the playful energy transformed into something much more intimate. 

Siddharth loosened his tie and threw it on the chair. He didn't move toward the wardrobe. Instead, he walked straight to Aditi, who was standing by the mirror, putting her hair in a bun.

He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her back against his chest. Aditi let out a soft breath, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

"Tired?"

She whispered.

"Hmm. Par tumhe dekh kar sab thik ho jata hai."

(But everything is fine after seeing you.)

Siddharth murmured. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. He was obsessed with her scent, a mix of vanilla, lilies, and something uniquely Aditi. It was the only thing that could truly calm his mind after a long day of legal battles.

"Siddharth... Myra bahar hai. Kabhi bhi aa jaayegi andar."

(Siddharth…Myra is outside. She will come anytime.)

Aditi breathed, even as she turned around in his arms, her hands finding his neck.

"Maa is there. Papa is there. Sarthak is there. We have time."

He whispered. His hands slid down to her waist, his fingers digging slightly into her soft curves. He had always been obsessed with her body, especially the way her waist curved. To him, she was the most beautiful woman on the planet, and five years of marriage hadn't dampened his passion, if anything, it had turned into an addiction.

He leaned in, his lips grazing hers in a slow, lingering kiss that tasted of longing and deep love. Aditi responded with equal fervour, her fingers tangling in his hair. 

"I love you."

He whispered against her lips, his voice husky.

"Thank you for coming into my life, Aditi. Thank you for making this house a home."

Aditi pulled him closer, her eyes misty with happiness. She thought back to the lonely girl in Bhopal who used to hide her tears behind a bubbly smile. That girl was gone. In her place was a woman who was cherished, pampered, and loved beyond measure.

"I love you too, my Robot."

She teased softly, kissing his jaw. Siddharth chuckled and picked her up, making her squeal in surprise as he carried her toward the bed.

"Robot, huh? Let me show you how much hardware this robot has."

He teased, making her blush profusely. Outside, she could hear the faint sound of her in-laws playing with her daughter. She knew that tomorrow would bring more laughter, more teasing from Sarthak, more motherly love from Meena, and more pampering from her father-in-law.

The girl who craved love had finally found a love so vast that it filled every corner of her soul. And as Siddharth pulled the covers over them, blocking out the rest of the world, Aditi knew that her story didn't just have a happy ending, it had a perfect, beautiful, and happy beginning.