Namaste
Chapter 33

Two weeks had passed, and by now, Vansh had grown familiar with Tanushree. She had also realized that, despite his quiet nature, he could be quite a handful. He threw tantrums while eating and sometimes refused to sit still during mealtime. 

Right now, she was chasing him around the living room, holding a bowl and spoon in her hands. 

“Vansh, please stop! I’m tired, I can’t run anymore,” she said breathlessly, trying to catch up with the giggling child. 

Vansh only laughed harder, enjoying the game. 

Harshvardhan, who had come home early from work that day, stood near the entrance, observing the scene. 

“Vansh,” he called out, his voice firm yet calm. “Sit down and eat your dinner.” 

The moment his deep voice filled the room, Vansh immediately stopped running. Without protest, he walked over to his chair and sat down, ready to eat. 

Tanushree blinked in surprise. **Just like that?** 

She had been running after him for almost fifteen minutes, and all it took was one sentence from his father? 

Shaking her head, she quickly resumed feeding him before he changed his mind. 

After dinner, as Tanushree wiped Vansh’s face and hands, Harshvardhan approached them. 

“I’ll put him to bed tonight,” he said, looking at her. “You can go and rest.” 

Tanushree hesitated for a second, but then nodded. She turned to Vansh and gave him a warm smile. 

“Goodnight, Vansh.” 

The little boy, already feeling sleepy, simply blinked at her before resting his head on his father’s shoulder. 

Tanushree walked back to her room, but her heart felt heavy. She couldn’t shake off the image of Harshvardhan holding Vansh so gently, so protectively. 

Would Abhimaan have held their child like that too? 

A lone tear slid down her cheek. But could she really blame him? He had been clear from the start—he didn’t want to be a father so soon. He had asked her to be careful, to be on birth control. Yet, despite it all, she had ended up pregnant. 

She sighed and pulled out her phone. **27 missed calls.** Messages flooded her screen—her parents, her in-laws, all asking where she was. And then there were Abhimaan’s messages. 

He was apologizing, begging her to pick up his calls. 

Her fingers hovered over the screen for a second before she locked the phone and placed it aside. That night, with tear-filled eyes, she curled up in bed and shut her eyes. Sleep never came easily these days. 

--- 

On the other side of the city, Abhimaan sat alone in his dark office, staring out at the vast skyline. The city lights flickered like distant stars, but everything felt empty. 

'Tanushree, please come back.' 

He typed the message and sent it. He knew she wouldn’t read it. She hadn’t read any of his texts in days. 

For the first time in years, he had cried. Really cried. But what was the use? His cruelty had cost him everything—his wife, his child. He should have stopped her. He should have begged her to stay, to keep their baby. 

But now, it was too late. 

The innocent child had paid the price for his selfishness. 

The door creaked open, but he didn’t care. It was 2 AM. Anyone could walk in. Hell, someone could even kill him right now, and he would be grateful. 

A hand suddenly snatched the liquor bottle from his grip. He looked up to see his best friend, Karan, standing there. 

“Get up,” Karan said, trying to pull him to his feet. 

Abhimaan shook his head. His throat felt dry, his voice hoarse. 

“My child is gone,” he whispered. “She… she aborted our baby.” 

His chest heaved as another sob escaped. 

“I forced her, Karan… I forced her to do it. She was so happy when she told me she was pregnant. She was hopeful—so hopeful that I would be happy too. But what did I do?” 

He let out a bitter laugh, his tears falling freely now. 

“I crushed her. I told her to get rid of it. And now… my child is gone. **She** is gone.” 

Karan sat beside him, silent. What could he even say? 

Abhimaan buried his face in his hands. He had never felt this kind of regret before. It clawed at him, ate him alive. 

And the worst part? 

He deserved it.

The next morning, Abhimaan woke up in his penthouse bedroom with a terrible headache. He dragged himself to the shower, barely able to move. As he stepped in, he noticed a teal-colored scrunchie lying on the sink. It was Tanushree’s.

In that moment, memories flooded back. He remembered the night they had made love in the shower. She had whispered to him that all they ever did was have sex—while what she really wanted was his presence, his care, his company. He realized he had been an emotionally unavailable husband. He had been so hurt after Sophia that he hardly trusted any woman. But now, he saw that he had been wrong about his wife.

All she ever wanted was him.

And he had failed her.

After Sophia, he had stopped believing in love, in trust. Every woman, in his eyes, was capable of betrayal. But Tanushree—his Tanushree—had never given him a reason to doubt her. He had been cruel, shutting her out, refusing to see the love she poured into their marriage.

And now, she was gone.

He clenched the scrunchie in his fist, inhaled sharply, and stepped under the cold spray of the shower.

He quickly dressed and left the penthouse. He knew that Tanushree had left, and that her parents were very worried about her. When he arrived at his in-laws’ house, his mother-in-law, who was often unwell, greeted him with tired eyes and deep concern. He was here to ask the well being of the couple since Tanushree had left it was likely they weren't taking care of their health.

Riva wiped her tears. "I don’t care what happened between you two, but if anything happens to my daughter, I will never forgive you."

Abhimaan swallowed hard.

He had to find her, to try and make things right—even if it was too late.

A month had passed since Tanushree started working as a nanny, and today she had been paid 40,000 rupees—a small sum that made her feel happy and a little more secure. With that smile on her face, she quickly called the nearest gynecology clinic. She was almost three months pregnant now, and it was time for her first scan. The receptionist instructed her to drink plenty of water until her bladder was full.

"I have an appointment today; I'll be back in two hours," she told Neha before hanging up.

Later, Tanushree waited for the bus. The bus was so crowded that she couldn’t find a seat, and she had to stand near the window. The movement of the bus and the jostling in the crowd made her feel nauseous, and she struggled to keep her balance.

When her stop finally arrived, she got off and stood in the waiting area of the clinic, taking small sips of water to steady herself. Then she heard her name being called softly:

"Tanushree Sirvi..."

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Shubh MahaShivratri! May Bholenath baba bless us all.