The morning light filtered through the sheer white curtains, brushing golden warmth over the nursery walls. Painted stars and moons danced lazily above the cradle, gently spinning as the mobile played a soft lullaby in the background.
I sat on the edge of the rocking chair, my fingers curled around the tiniest hand I'd ever held.
Our daughter.
Aarya.
She had Justin's eyes—deep, thoughtful, unblinking—and my curious frown. Her small mouth occasionally puckered in her sleep, like she was dreaming of stories untold.
I didn't realize I was crying until Justin knelt in front of me and wiped a tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb.
"Radhika," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm after all these years. "She's beautiful."
I smiled through the tears and nodded. "She's ours."
He rested his head gently against my knee, closing his eyes for a moment. "Sometimes… I still can't believe we're alive. That we're here."
I ran my fingers through his hair, grayer now at the temples. He still looked like my Justin, though — strong, kind, tired from the battles we won, but lighter now.
"It still feels like a dream," I said quietly. "Only this time, I don't want to wake up."
Outside, laughter rang out. Sahil and Ishika were in the garden, chasing their twin sons across the lawn. Dev and his son was sitting under a tree, his notebook open, occasionally looking up with that old, content smile. Gulafsha and Akanksha were arguing near the kitchen window, throwing flour at each other while baking.
We had made it.
Not just survived. *Lived.*
Aarya stirred in my arms, her small brow furrowing the way mine used to when I was little. She yawned — a sound so tiny, so delicate it made my chest ache.
I kissed her forehead and whispered, "You'll grow up loved. Protected. Brave."
Justin's arms came around both of us, holding us tightly like he was afraid we'd vanish.
"I love you," he said.
"I know," I whispered, laying my head against his shoulder. "And I love you more."
We sat like that, in the silence of a world we'd fought to protect. No more running. No more fear. Just the sound of our daughter breathing, the wind rustling leaves outside, and the quiet heartbeat of a life finally at peace.
Our story had been written in blood, fire, and darkness.
But now—
It was inked in lullabies, late-night cuddles, and a love that had truly survived it all.
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Thank you...for reading