Manveer

Unknowingly I was checking the footages on my laptop as I lingered in my bedroom. As if a teenager easily catches the addiction, I was feeling addicted to watch her. I never thought the mechanical gazes I had relied on to keep threats at bay, now those cameras served a purpose I had never expected.

She had stepped into my kid's life unassumingly and then in my life. The first time I noticed her when I accidently watched the footages. I knew from the start when Laksh gave her that toy, but I had never thought she could draw me in!

But Laksh suddenly stumbled out of the gate and into her arms. My breath caught in my chest. Her hand held his small hands. It should have been my wife not her. But just like she was filling the void in my son's life, can she fill mine too?

The sudden ring of phone snapped me out of the thoughts.

"Manveer! I want you to attend this business meeting next week," my father's voice thundered through the phone the moment I picked up.

"I can't," I replied tersely, my tone clipped, though my eyes remained fixed on the screen. She was there, laughing, her presence somehow managing to brighten even the dull glow of the monitor.

I knew exactly why he wanted me at that meeting. The underlying agenda wasn't about business; it was about parading me in front of suitable women potential mothers for Laksh.

"What do you mean by that? I want you to meet Mr.—"

"No!" I cut him off sharply, my patience wearing thin. "I'm handling it."

"Handling it?" he repeated. "Hire a proper nanny or, better yet, get married. A child needs stability, not—"

"Not this again," I snapped, gripping the edge of the desk. My jaw tightened as I forced myself to keep my voice steady. "Laksh can't be cared for by strangers.

I've tried nannies. Two of them left him unattended, and one almost let him out of the house. I won't risk it again."

"And you think you can do it alone." he challenged me but I didn't bother answering. I could hear him sighing from other side. "Manveer" he muttered, almost to himself and in next moment the line was dead.

I tossed the phone onto the desk and leaned back in my chair. "I don't need anyone," I muttered nonchalantly. "Not until I find someone like her. Or... her."

Frustrated, I slammed the laptop shut, and rubbed my temples. A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. "Come in," I said coldly.

"You have an important business meeting in the next hour," my PA reminded me, standing by the door with his usual professional composure, clipboard in hand.

I exhaled sharply, nodding as I pulled myself, "I'll be there," I replied. Dragging a hand through my hair, I straightened my posture and glanced at the laptop.

The meeting began soon after, a blur of voices discussing numbers, projections, and strategies. My mind struggled to stay tethered to the present as I nodded mechanically, offering input where necessary.

An hour later, the meeting wrapped up, the hum of boardroom chatter fading into the background as I excused myself. I didn't linger for pleasantries or post-meeting banter. Instead, I headed straight to my office, shutting the door behind me with a quiet click.

I was more worried about how I was going to apologize Laksh. I wanted to make it up to him after I made him cry for the thing which was never his fault. And I definitely didn't want him to think that his father is bad person.

As soon as I returned to the mansion, I wasted no time. I headed to his room; I entered with a soft knock but to my surprise he jumped and came to me with a excitement. It was not the Laksh I expected to see putting and throwing tantrums.

"How are you, beta?" I asked, lifting Laksh into my arms, holding him close as I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His small arms looped around my neck.

"I had fun today," he replied, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

"Fun?" I repeated, raising a brow. Hesitating for a moment, I decided to bring up what I needed to. "So... are you not mad at Papa anymore?"

"No", he shook his.

"But I'm sorry, Laksh," I admitted. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Dada, was your day very very bad?" he asked me as he jumped out of my arms and I crouched to his height and he cupped my face.

I blinked, startled by his words. "Bad day?" I echoed. How could he know to ask something like that? "Who told you?"

"Diya told me." He answered. "She said Papa had a bad day and he was angyy. But she said Papa loves me and he is the sweetest Papa. Sweeter than brownies." He stretched his arms wide as if to emphasize how sweet I was.

And the strange thing is I could picture her crouching in front of him and soothing him with her words. And it made me feel again the same things I couldn't quite name. The way she had somehow bridged the gap I had unknowingly created, how kind her soul is? I had unknowingly inflicted.

"Papa!" Laksh's giggle snapped me back to the present.

"Hm?" I cleared my throat, shaking my head as I ran a hand through his curls. "Nothing, nothing. Now, tell me, champ, what fun did you have today?"

Laksh hopped onto the bed with the energy only a toddler could muster, his little hands gripping the phone as he shoved it toward my face. "Look!" he exclaimed. His hands barely held the device steady as he tapped the screen.

"What is it?" I asked, leaning closer.

"TikTok!" he declared proudly, his grin so wide it stretching from ear to ear.

I frowned slightly, taking the phone from him. The video started playing, and there she was dancing, her movements fluid and effortless, her laughter spilling through the screen like sunshine. And right beside her was Laksh, doing his best to follow along, his little hands waving in the air and his feet stomping in no particular rhythm.

I couldn't help it. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Watching the two of them, so carefree and happy, felt like a balm to the heaviness that had been weighing me down all day.

"You look like a rockstar, beta," I said, ruffling his hair.

"Rockstar?" Laksh repeated, giggling. "Diya says I'm a superstar!"

I chuckled, setting the phone aside and pulling him close. "Superstar, then. Now, time for bed. It's way past your bedtime."

Laksh pouted, crossing his arms dramatically, but I didn't budge. "If you sleep now, we'll go to the park tomorrow," I bargained.

His eyes lit up, and he nodded vigorously, shutting his eyes tight like a switch had flipped.

"Goodnight." I kissed his forehead. I lingered there for a moment longer as I admired his peaceful face. Even as he drifted into sleep, his tiny lips murmured something incoherent, melting my heart.

I left his room quietly, making my way to mine. The house was silent now, but my mind wasn't.

The image of Diya and Laksh dancing replayed in my head, her movements so natural, so... captivating.

Standing in front of the mirror, I stared at my reflection. My brow furrowed as I replayed the video in my mind, studying her steps. Could I do that?

"Yeh kya hai? Bas haath idhar-udhar hilana hai?" I muttered, flailing my arms awkwardly. My movements were stiff, and the more I tried to match her fluidity, the more ridiculous I looked.

("What is this? Just waving your hands around?")

"Arey nahi! Aise kaise kar leti hai woh? Koi science hai kya ismein?" I huffed, attempting again.

("No way! How does she even do this? Is there some kind of science behind it?")

This time, I added my feet into the mix, but the result was catastrophic. I tripped over my own foot, barely catching myself before I collided with the bedframe.

"Kya bakwaas hai yeh!" I scowled at my reflection, throwing my hands up in exasperation.

("What nonsense is this!")

A sudden sound made me freeze. I turned sharply to see my PA standing at the door, his hand over his mouth, trying and failing to stifle his laughter.

"Kya dekh rahe ho? Get out!" I growled. ("What are you staring at?")

"Sorry, sir," he said, quickly straightening up, though the corners of his lips still twitched. He backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

I let out a groan, sinking onto the bed with my head in my hands. "Mujhse dance bhi nahi hota," I muttered to myself. "Itni buri halat hai ki ab mere naukar bhi mujhpe haste hain."

("My situation's so bad that even my staff is laughing at me now.")

Glancing back at the mirror, I saw my reflection staring back at me, looking as defeated as I felt.

Straightening, I said aloud, "I will ask her to teach me how to dance and then I will show that stupid. Tab dekhte hain kaun hasta hai!"

(Let's see who's laughing then!")