Namaste
Chapter 22 ( Long Chapter. Expecting many comments and votes pretty people.)

Abhimaan sat on the couch, swirling the whiskey in his glass, lost in thought. Across from him, Rohit leaned back in his chair, nursing his beer. He noticed the tension in his friend’s face—the way his shoulders were tight, his brows furrowed.

“You good, mate?” Rohit asked, raising an eyebrow. “You look stressed.” He took another sip before adding, “Everything okay with the missus?” 

Abhimaan ran his hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “Yeah… no… I don’t know.” He rested his head against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

“What happened?” Rohit pressed, setting his beer aside. “You’re already dressed for the party, but you look like you’d rather be anywhere else.” 

Abhimaan let out a long sigh and took a big gulp of his drink. “Tanu’s pregnant.”

Rohit’s eyes widened. “What? Already? Man, you work fast.” He gave a small laugh, but it faded when he saw Abhimaan’s expression hadn’t changed. “Wait... isn’t that good news?” 

“I told her to get an abortion,” Abhimaan admitted, his voice low.

Rohit blinked, stunned. “You what?”

“I can’t do it, Rohit,” Abhimaan muttered, rubbing his face. “I’m not ready to be a father. I’m all messed up in the head. How can I raise a kid when I’m not even... right?”

Rohit stared at him for a moment, then scoffed. “Man, nobody’s ever ready to be a parent. It’s not something you figure out beforehand—it’s something you grow into.”

Abhimaan shook his head. “No, you don’t get it. I want to be mentally and emotionally present for my child. Not just... there. I’ve seen what it’s like when a father isn’t around properly. I don’t want to screw this up. And I don’t want Tanu to go through that either.”

Rohit leaned forward, giving him a serious look. “Bro, listen to me. I get that you’re scared. But kids? They’re a blessing, man. They’re not some ‘perfect time’ thing. Life’s messy. You’ll always think you’re not ready, but that’s just fear talking.”

Abhimaan sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “But what if I mess everything up?”

“And what if you don’t?” Rohit shot back, smacking him lightly on the back of the head. “You think all dads have it figured out from day one? Spoiler alert: they don’t. They just do their best. And you—” he pointed at Abhimaan, “—you’ll do your best too. You’ve got a good heart, man. You care. That’s all that matters.”

Abhimaan was silent for a moment, staring into his glass.

Rohit clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Look, don’t be that guy who throws away something good just because he’s scared. You’ve got a wife who loves you, a kid on the way. That’s a hell of a gift, bro. Don’t ruin it because you think you’re not good enough. You are.”

Abhimaan swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Rohit’s words settle over him.

“Man up,” Rohit added with a grin, leaning back. “That kid’s gonna think you’re a superhero.”

Abhimaan chuckled softly, though it was laced with uncertainty. “A superhero, huh?” 

“Yeah,” Rohit said, raising his beer. “Even if you mess up, that kid will still think the world of you. Just show up. That’s what matters.”

Abhimaan gave a small nod, staring at his drink as if it held the answer. Maybe Rohit was right. Maybe he just needed to show up—flawed and scared—but present.

He took a deep breath, setting his glass down. "Yeah... maybe you're right."

Rohit grinned. “I’m always right.”

Rohit took a final swig of his beer and set the bottle down with a grin. “Now, here’s what you’re gonna do,” he said, leaning forward. “You’re gonna march your sorry ass to your wife, look her in the eyes, and apologise for being a complete idiot.” 

Abhimaan gave him a half-smile, but Rohit wasn’t done. 

“And I mean properly apologize. No half-assed 'I was just stressed' excuse. You were shitty, man. Asking her to get rid of the baby?” He shook his head. “Nah, bro. You’re gonna make it right. Try licking the ground she walks on while you’re at it.” 

Abhimaan laughed under his breath, though guilt still gnawed at him. “Licking the ground, huh?” 

“Damn right. And don’t forget to apologise to that baby too,” Rohit added with a smirk. “Might wanna practise now—‘Hey, little dude or dudette, sorry I was a complete jerk. I promise to try harder.’ Something like that.”

Abhimaan let out a long breath, rubbing his temples. “You’re making this sound easy.” 

“It’s not,” Rohit admitted, leaning back in his chair. “But it’s worth it. And you know what? The sooner you fix this, the sooner you can stop feeling like crap and actually get excited about being a dad.” 

Abhimaan shook his head with a chuckle, finally standing up. “You’re something else, man.” 

“That’s why you keep me around,” Rohit said with a wink. “Now go. Apologise. Kiss some feet if you have to.” 

Abhimaan grabbed his keys and shot Rohit a grateful look. “Thanks, bro.” 

Rohit gave him a lazy salute. “Don’t mention it. Just... try not to mess up again, yeah?” 

As Abhimaan walked toward the door, Rohit called after him, “And for God’s sake, mean it when you apologise. No half-measures!” 

Abhimaan laughed as he stepped out, the weight on his chest easing just a bit. Now came the hard part—facing Tanushree and making things right.

As Abhimaan drove toward the party in his Bentley, the tension slowly lifted from his chest. Passing through the streets of the Pink City, something caught his eye—a bright, colourful baby store. Without a second thought, he pulled over and parked outside. 

He stepped into the shop, instantly surrounded by soft pastel colours, tiny clothes, and rows of stuffed animals. There was a gentle hum of life here—expectant parents choosing baby outfits, toys neatly arranged on shelves, and babies in strollers giggling as their parents entertained them.

Abhimaan wandered through the aisles, feeling strangely calm for the first time in days. His eyes landed on the racks of clothes. Tiny frocks, onesies in all colors, and knitted caps. Then he spotted it—a delicate lilac-colored frock. A warm smile crept across his face. 

“If I have a daughter, she’ll look beautiful in this,” he murmured to himself, running a hand over the soft fabric. Then, just to cover his bases, he picked out a tiny jumpsuit in powder blue. “In case it’s a boy,” he thought, grinning.

He moved on, picking out a couple of stuffed toys—a plush elephant and a soft bunny. Then some baby socks, tiny enough to fit in the palm of his hand. As he walked past a shelf of books, he grabbed a couple titled What to Expect When You’re Expecting and The New Dad’s Survival Guide. He didn’t want to go in blind this time—he wanted to get it right. 

As he wandered deeper into the store, watching parents fuss over strollers and hearing babies’ gurgling laughter, something shifted inside him. The fear that had consumed him over the past day dissolved, replaced by a sense of calm—and even excitement. 

How stupid he had been to even say the word abortion. The guilt hit him like a wave. How could he have thought of getting rid of his own child—his own blood? What kind of man did that? He clenched his jaw, angered by his own foolishness. 

But not anymore. No, he was going to be better. He wouldn’t be like his father—distant and cold. He’d be present, every step of the way. He’d be there for every cry, every laugh, every sleepless night. 

The thought filled him with a sudden, almost giddy happiness. Damn, he was going to be a father. And it was going to be amazing. 

He paid for everything, imagining Tanushree’s reaction when she saw the tiny clothes and toys. She would love them. She had to. He would make it right. He’d tell her how sorry he was, how wrong he had been. And this time, he’d be the husband—and father—she deserved. 

With his arms full of bags, he stepped out of the store, grinning to himself. He had never felt this certain about anything in his life. He started the car, eager to get to the party—and to his wife. He was ready now. Ready to be a father, a husband, and a better man.

Tanushree sat on the small bench outside the powder room, her head bowed, trying to blink away the tears threatening to spill. Her chest felt tight, her mind spinning with the cruel words she’d overheard just moments ago. She needed to calm down, to compose herself, but it was impossible.

As she gathered herself to head inside, the door swung open and a woman stepped out. She was striking—dressed in a scarlet gown that clung to her like a second skin. Her deep red lips and bold, dark eyes made her look sharp and intimidating. The neckline of her gown plunged low, leaving little to the imagination.

Tanushree bent down to grab her purse, but in her haste, it slipped from her hands and fell to the floor. The woman in red knelt and picked it up for her, flashing a sly smile. “Nice ring,” she commented, eyeing Tanushree’s hand.

Tanushree didn’t respond, just stared at her quietly, her pulse quickening.

“But not something Abhimaan would give his lady,” the woman continued, her smirk growing as she straightened. “This,” she said, flashing a large, green diamond ring on her finger, “is more his style.”

Tanushree’s heart dropped.

“He gave it to me on our last anniversary,” the woman said, her voice dripping with arrogance. “Poor thing... Your husband’s still madly in love with me. I had to leave, though—he was getting too attached, always worried about me. I couldn’t let him lose himself like that, so I walked away. I was afraid he wasn't focusing on his work. But fate has a funny way, doesn’t it? We crossed paths again just a month ago.”

The woman laughed softly, clearly relishing every word.

“But, wouldn’t you know it,” she continued, “fate had other plans. We met again a month ago. Well, more like he came *flying* to see me in Mumbai when he heard I’d been in a little accident.” She laughed again, a cruel sound that echoed in Tanushree’s ears. “He took care of me like a baby. One thing led to another... let’s just say, he’s a beast in bed. I couldn’t walk for days.” She winked, her voice low and teasing.

Tanushree’s stomach twisted painfully, her eyes filling with tears she struggled to hold back.

“Oh, but look at me,” the woman said, feigning innocence. “I digress. I only came to return these.” She pulled out a black credit card and a watch from her purse, shoving them into Tanushree’s hands. “He left them in my bedroom in Mumbai,” she said with a smirk. “Thought I’d give them back. I would have returned them in person. But I can't seem to spot him. Must be drowning himself in work in order to not think about me.”

Tanushree’s gaze dropped to the items in her trembling hands. The name on the credit card read Abhimaan Rathore. The watch was custom-made, with the initials A.R. engraved on it, just like the others he wore.

The weight of the situation crushed her. She couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, her vision blurring as she stared down at the watch, the cold metal pressing into her palm. Without saying a word, she turned and walked away from the woman, her head lowered, her heart shattered.

Tanushree found Karan and Hema standing near the bar, deep in conversation. She approached them silently, her face pale, her eyes swollen from the tears she had tried to hide.

"Bhabhi, everything okay?" Karan asked, his voice laced with concern.

Tanushree nodded weakly, her voice barely a whisper. “Yes... Could you send me home? I’m not feeling well.”

Karan and Hema exchanged worried glances. “Bhaiya is on his way. He’ll be here in an hour,” Hema said gently, touching her arm.

Tanushree nodded again, numb. “It’s fine. I’ll call the driver. I... I just need to rest.” Her voice was hollow, lifeless.

Karan sighed. “Alright, I’ll have the driver take you home. Bhaiya will follow once the auction is over. These events are boring anyway.”

Hema reached out, concerned. “Bhabhi, I’m coming with you. You shouldn’t be alone.”

Tanushree shook her head, forcing a faint smile. “No, Didi. I’ll be fine.”

Before leaving, she handed the watch and the credit card to Hema. “Give these to your brother,” she said softly, before turning and walking away.

By the time she reached the car waiting at the entrance, she felt like a shell of herself, completely drained of any strength or emotion. The night had crushed her, and now, all she wanted was to disappear.

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