The moment Swastika and Inaayat stepped out of the luxury car, the flashlights nearly blinded them. Photographers outside the marble entrance shouted in excitement the moment they recognised the duo.

“Mrs. Mukherjee! One picture please!”

“Ma’am, look here! Inaayat ma’am, congratulations on the pregnancy!”

Swastika smiled proudly, the kind of smile that could warm an entire room. “Come, baby,” she whispered to Inaayat, placing a hand on her back as they posed gracefully. The cameras clicked rapidly — her navy blue chiffon saree shimmering under the lights, while Inaayat’s silk couture gown hugged her like a second skin pale champagne with a soft shimmer that made her look almost ethereal. Her blonde hair was styled into soft, expensive waves. Diamonds sparkled at her ears, framing her as the evening’s star.

Inside the gala, the chandeliers glowed golden like melted sunlight. A string quartet played softly. The rich scent of orchids and expensive perfume filled the spacious ballroom.

They barely walked three steps when the first group approached.

“Inaayat! My goodness, look at you! You’re glowing!” Mrs. Malhotra exclaimed, clasping Inaayat’s hands.

Inaayat offered a practiced, elegant smile. “Thank you, aunty.”

Everyone laughed politely.

“Pregnancy suits you so well. You look like a dream. Nirvaan is a lucky man, truly.”

Swastika instantly added, beaming, “She’s perfect for my son. Absolutely perfect. I keep telling everyone, the best thing that happened to our family.”

More people joined in.

“Congratulations, dear! How many weeks now?”

“Just a few,” Inaayat answered sweetly, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I’m still getting used to everything.”

“And you will be the most gorgeous mother, darling.”

Inaayat laughed softly. “I hope so. I’m already eating like one.”

“Oh, she is,” Swastika added with playful pride. “I’ve seen her midnight cravings. Sometimes I think she’ll finish my entire kitchen.”

Everyone chuckled warmly.

A waiter passed with a tray of champagne. Inaayat instinctively reached before remembering. She paused. When the waiter asked, “Champagne, ma’am?” she politely waved her hand.

“I’ll take a sparkling water instead, please.”

Swastika nudged her gently. “Good girl.”

While walking, two women whispered near them, not quitely enough.

“Look at her… what a stunning couple she and Nirvaan make.”

“And their child will be royalty in the business world.”

Inaayat pretended not to hear but lifted her chin a little higher.

Another group approached, this time with louder enthusiasm.

“Mrs. Mukherjee! Oh my God, congratulations! You’re going to be a grandmother!”

Swastika’s face lit up instantly. Even the wrinkles around her eyes softened. “Thank you, thank you! I’m over the moon. You know I’ve been waiting for this day.”

“Blessings to the baby. And to Nirvaan and Inaayat, they are such a perfect match.”

“Yes,” Swastika said proudly, “My children are everything to me. I can’t wait to spoil my grandchild.”

Inaayat smiled, pretending to blush modestly. A woman touched her arm. “You must be so happy.”

“I am,” she answered carefully. “It feels… surreal.”

“Where is Nirvaan tonight?” someone asked.

Swastika smoothly replied, “Office. Important deal. But he’ll join if he finishes early.”

“Ah, always the hardworking one,” a man said.

“That’s my son,” Swastika said, full of maternal pride. “But he’s even more excited about the baby.”

Inaayat’s smile tightened just a little, just enough for Swastika to notice but not others.

More cameras flashed inside the hall. People kept coming— congratulating, praising, complimenting her dress, her glow, her posture and her future.

Through all of it, Swastika held her arm proudly, as though presenting the most precious jewel in the Mukherjee crown.

And Inaayat, with each congratulations, with each “perfect couple” comment, with each “what a blessing,” felt her position, her pride and her confidence… rise inch by inch.



The TV flickered softly in the dim living room.

Shinchan’s shrill and playful voice echoed through the silence.

On-screen, Shinchan was dancing around his house in his usual chaotic energy:

“Mai itna bhi kuch khaas nhi!”

Normally, Kaushiki would giggle at that.

She always laughed at Shinchan.

But today… nothing.

No smile.

No reaction.

Just a blank and tired stare.

She sat curled up on the sofa—knees pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around them.

Sonali walked in quietly.

“Didi… I’ve made some sandwiches,” she said softly. “Come… and have some.”

Kaushiki didn’t even look at her. Just shook her head once.

Sonali sighed. “Didi… you already skipped breakfast. And lunch also. Please… eat a little. It's not good for the baby as well.”

Still, nothing.

Just that same dull, lost stare at the cartoon screen.

Sonali stepped closer, gently touching her shoulder.

“Please? One sandwich.”

Kaushiki’s lips pressed together. “Naa, Sonali… not now.”

Her voice was low, hoarse, almost lifeless.

Sonali’s brows knitted with worry. “why are you acting like this? Is it because…” she hesitated, carefully choosing her words, “…because young master hasn’t called since yesterday night?”

Kaushiki didn’t answer.

But she didn’t deny it either.

She sat still like a statue eyes quietly drowning in thoughts she wouldn’t say out loud.

The phone suddenly buzzed on the sofa beside her.

Kaushiki’s head snapped toward it, hope flashing in her eyes.

When she saw his name—Nirvaan calling, her chest loosened.

A smile broke out on her face.

A real smile.

Bright and relieved, as if someone had finally opened a window in a suffocating room.

She wiped her cheeks quickly and answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, how is my pretty bunny doing today?”

His voice came warm and playful, his usual tone whenever he spoke to her, no matter how exhausted he was.

And she didn’t know this, but lately… he only ever used that tone with her.

Because it had been a week.

A week since he last saw her.

A week of living inside the office—meetings after meetings, papers stacked everywhere and his phone buzzing nonstop. Sometimes he stepped out on the street just to breathe, before another call dragged him back in.

Every quiet moment came with the same terrifying thought—

I’ll go to jail. The project will collapse. People will lose trust. Everything my family built… finished.

The thought clawed at his spine every night as he fell asleep in his office chair.

But that was when she appeared.

Kaushiki smiling in his dreams,

Kaushiki laughing,

Kaushiki hugging him

Kaushiki kissing him, warming him and grounding him

He would actually smile in his sleep from those dreams.

Then wake up to more files.

So nowadays, whenever he got even one free minute, he called her.

Just to hear her voice.

Just to feel like the world wasn’t burning from all sides.

But she didn’t know that.

To her, his cheerful tone sounded fake, forced… like someone who wasn’t stressed at all.

Someone who was lying.

Someone who had spent the whole week with his wife, not at work.

So when he asked, “How is my pretty bunny doing?” she answered politely:

“I’m doing good. How are you?”

“Ah! Workload is killing me,” he sighed dramatically. “God knows when everything will fix up and I will finally get to see you.”

He was honest.

He was tired.

He genuinely missed her.

But she heard that same bright smile in his voice…

and her heart twisted.

Someone who is drowning in stress doesn’t sound this happy.

So he is actually with Inaayat. Not in the office.

Must be nice… spending nights with your wife and then calling your mistress with this cheerful voice.

Her smile faded slowly as he continued talking.

“did you eat properly today?”

“Yes… I mean— I ate something.”

“What something?” his voice sharpened just a little. “Did you skip breakfast again?”

“No…”

“Kaushiki,” he warned softly.

She sighed. “…I had coffee.”

“That’s not food, baby.”

Her heart thudded. That word always did things to her.

“Did you take your vitamins?” he asked next.

“Yes,” she lied.

“You sound like you’re lying.”

“I’m not,” she muttered.

He stayed quiet for a second, then spoke with that mix of concern and irritation only someone who deeply cared had.

“Do you want me to send you something? Fruits? Soup? Should I order something for you right now?”

“No, I don’t want anything,” she whispered.

“Baby… you’re carrying a baby. You can’t treat your health like this.”

She hummed.

“If there’s any health problem,” he said softly, “just call Mom, okay? Tell her immediately. She’ll take you to the doctor.”

She hummed in response.

But inside, her thoughts whispered quietly:

For Inaayat’s doctor visits… it’s always you holding her hand.

For mine… it’s Mom who has to come.

But it’s fine. At least I don’t have to go alone, unlike the other surrogates… or mistresses who hide everything and go by themselves.

She pushed the thought away before it could sting deeper.

“Hmm.”

“Promise me,” he insisted.

She nodded softly, though he couldn’t see it. “I promise.”

He breathed out, relieved. Then… his tone changed again—warm, sweet and romantic, the version of him only she ever heard.

“You know how worried I get for you, right?”

“…I know.”

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured. “All day I’m drowning in work, but the moment I hear your voice, everything feels lighter.”

Her throat tightened.

“And when you act stubborn like this… I don’t know whether to scold you or kiss you.”

“Nirvaan…” she whispered, flustered.

He laughed softly.

“You’re blushing, aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Yes,” he said with absolute confidence. “I can imagine it.”

Her heart melted completely. The worry, the softness and the flirting—everything about him made her fall deeper without meaning to.

He spoke again, voice dipping lower, sweeter.

“You have no idea how much I miss you, pretty bunny.”

Her breath caught.

“I think about you more than I should,” he admitted. “And… it feels way too good.”

Her chest fluttered, warm and aching and full.

In that moment, in his voice, she felt loved…

The moment the call ended, the smile on her face didn’t disappear. It stayed—small, shaky… but real. She held the phone against her chest for a second, eyes closed.

Then slowly, reality seeped in.

Her smile faded.

She sat back on the couch, staring at the black screen of her phone…

I’m his other woman, she finally admitted to herself.

The word didn’t shock her anymore.

It didn’t stab her like before.

It just… settled inside her chest like a heavy truth she had been avoiding for far too long.

Just a few more days, she told herself.

Just a few more days and she would leave. She would run away from all this—this penthouse, this city and this complicated web of love and guilt and lies.

But until then…

Until then she wanted to breathe in whatever bits of happiness she could steal.

She wanted his calls, his silly flirting, the way he said “pretty bunny,” the way he pretended everything was fine just to make her smile.

Let me enjoy this, she thought, pressing her palm over her heart.

Let me have this… just for a little longer.

Let her forget who she was.

Let her forget who he was.

Let her forget Inaayat.

Forget his marital status.

Forget every line she wasn’t supposed to cross.

Just for a few stolen days.

Just until she could walk away.

Just until her heart stopped aching for him.

She took a deep breath, wiped her eyes, and whispered to herself—

“Okay… just a few more days.”

And she allowed herself to smile again.

She cleared her throat and called out softly,

“Sonali…”

Sonali came running from the kitchen, wiping her wet hands on her apron. “yes didi?”

Kaushiki straightened her voice a little.

“Bring the sandwiches.”

Sonali’s face lit up. She smiled—relieved, almost proud that Kaushiki finally agreed to eat.

“yes didi,” she nodded happily and turned to rush back to the kitchen.

But she took only two steps when Kaushiki called again, louder this t

ime,

“And… bring the fruits Swastika ma’am sent!”

Sonali stopped, looked back, and her smile widened even more.

“okay, didi! I will bring everything.”

She disappeared into the kitchen again, her footsteps where quick like she couldn’t wait to serve.

Kaushiki leaned her head back against the couch cushion, a tiny sigh escaping her lips.