Saathiya (15) Part I
Adil's pov One year later I hummed the same soft lullaby under my breath—the one Anisa sing to her—while gently rocking Ghazal in my arms. My daughter. Our tiny miracle. She was so beautifully chubby, her cheeks round and flushed like Anisa’s when she laughs, her little mouth pursed in that perfect pout that made my heart squeeze every single time. Those dark eyes—already so knowing, so deep—fluttered closed as sleep finally claimed her. I pressed a feather-light kiss to her forehead, breathing in that sweet baby scent and warmth. Everything had changed. And somehow, against all odds, it had changed for the better. I eased her into the crib, tucking the thin muslin blanket around her small body with the care of a man handling something infinitely precious. The AC purred quietly; I reached over and dropped the temperature another notch because in Jawahar heat was high. As soon as Ghazal settled, Aladdin and Kebab rose from their corner like silent shadows. They padded ...