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Malini spoke with a gentle face,
"I'm pregnant, Abhishek, what is this place?"
Abhishek's surprise, a shocked, amazed gaze,
"Just yesterday we married, in love's daze"
He asked her calmly, with a gentle tone,
"How did you know, my love, what's been shown?"
Malini replied, with a innocent claim,
"Marriage means pregnancy, it's just the same"
Abhishek smiled, with a loving care,
"You're young, my love, let's focus on you, my dear"
He reassured her, with a gentle hand,
"You're not pregnant, my love, understand"
He promised to talk, to his mother so fine,
And calm Malini's fears, make her heart and mind align.
With a tender kiss, on her forehead so bright,
"Don't worry, my love, everything's alright"
He held her close, with a loving might,
And whispered softly, through the quiet night.
"I'll teach you all, with a loving care,
And guide you through, with a love that's fair"
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16th April 1846
Calcutta, Bengal
ABHISHEK POV~
"I'm going to become a mother… and you, a father."
I still.
How?
My brows draw in, but her gaze stays soft— confused, even.
There's no fear in her eyes… only sincerity.
I let out a slow, unsure breath, brushing my thumb gently across her cheek.
She must be… misunderstanding something.
"Malini, how?" I ask carefully. "Who told you that?"
She blinks at me, then tilts her head like a curious sparrow.
"Because… I'm married now. Married girls become pregnant and then give birth, na? So that means I'm pregnant too."
I blink.
Twice.
Her words hang in the air like a snowflake— beautiful, strange, and completely unreal.
Did she just—
I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or pull her into my arms.
Her innocence is blinding.
"So… you think girls become pregnant because they get married?" I ask gently, watching her bob her head with absolute certainty, like it's the most obvious truth in the world.
My lips twitch.
A chuckle bubbles up inside me like air bubbling inside the water, fizzing behind sealed lips.
I quickly bite down on my lower lip, turning my face a little as I clear my throat and lower my gaze, trying hard— so hard… not to laugh.
Focus, Abhishek.
Focus.
When I look back up, her wide eyes are still waiting, trusting…. completely unaware of how hilariously naive her logic sounds.
"And what about the girls who aren't married?" I lean in slightly, tilting my head with a mischievous glint. "They can't get pregnant?"
She scrunches her nose in a 'duh' expression. "No! How would they? They're not married, na."
I nod, pretending to absorb her logic with a straight face. "So… since you're married now, you think you're already pregnant?"
"Yes," she whispers, more softly now, and places her palm gently over her belly, draped in folds of her deep red saree.
The gesture is so sincere… so delicate… that for a second, I forget to smile.
But then my heart swells with affection and amusement.
I chuckle under my breath and reach for her hand.
Her fingers are cold, like little frost petals.
Gently, I slide her hand lower, pressing it toward her lower abdomen.
"It's here, phoenix," I whisper near her ear, my voice barely a breath. "Not above."
She flinches, her shoulders trembling slightly at my nearness, and her breath hitches.
Goosebumps rise along her forearm.
My fingers linger, resting over hers.
She turns to me, frowning slightly. "How do you know? You're a man, not a girl," she accuses, as if she's caught me cheating at something.
I bite back another grin.
"I know… because I've studied about reproduction," I say softly, my thumb stroking gentle circles over her knuckles still resting against her stomach.
She tilts her head again, lips parting just a little.
"Reproduction?" she repeats slowly, her brows pinching together in genuine confusion.
"Yes, but first," I say, still gently tracing slow, reassuring patterns on the back of her hand, "tell me— who told you that girls get pregnant after marriage? Or… did you come up with that on your own?"
She hesitates, her lashes fluttering as she tries to recollect something.
"Your mother… and your aunts," she begins, voice small. "They came in the evening and… your mother said she wants to become a grandmother by the end of this year. That… that it should be a boy. And that she expects to hear the good news this month."
She scrunches her nose as if the memory itself smells sour, trying hard to recall the exact words, word-for-word…. because she knows it matters.
A deep sigh escapes me, unbidden.
Of course.
Same old heavy expectations wrapped in gold-threaded traditions.
The same poisoned ribbons they keep tying around every girl like it's a gift, not a chain.
I slowly shake my head, brushing my thumb along her knuckles.
My heart aches seeing how quickly innocence gets replaced with pressure in this household.
"Malini," I murmur, lifting my other hand to trace her jawline with the softest touch of my knuckle. "Listen to me… you're still a child."
She blinks at me, eyes slightly wide.
"You need to focus on your studies. Your health. Your growth. Not on becoming a mother for someone else's wishes."
Her lower lip quivers slightly.
I cup her cheek again.
"And don't worry about my mother or the aunts," I add firmly. "I'll talk to them. You don't have to carry their expectations, okay?"
"Okay… but, what about our child?" she asks, her voice a hush of worry and wonder.
Her fingers drift back to her lower abdomen, lightly caressing the fabric of her saree as though cradling something unseen.
A teasing smile curls at the corners of my lips.
Her sincerity both breaks and warms me.
I lean in slowly, just close enough that she instinctively leans back into the pillows.
Her breath hitches.
"There is no child, Malini," I murmur, my tone gentle, laced with affection.
My fingers tap softly against her stomach, the contact feather-light. "You're not pregnant."
Her eyes widen.
"What!?... How do you know?" She gasps, her brows arching high, confusion rippling across her face like waves in still water.
"I know everything, phoenix," I whisper, close enough for her to feel the warmth of my breath on her cheek.
Her face blooms in pink, her cheeks slowly tinted with a shade only she wears so naturally— innocence draped in curiosity.
"But… I'm married now," she says softly, the conviction in her voice wavering like a child stating something they were told without understanding.
I gently tilt her chin so she's fully facing me.
"Just getting married doesn't make a girl pregnant, phoenix," I whisper, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's not magic. It's… biology."
She frowns, the wrinkle on her forehead deepening.
I can tell she's trying to make sense of it all…. trying to fit her beliefs into this new knowledge.
And in that moment, I realize how much she's still learning.
Still growing.
Still a child in a world rushing to make her a woman.
"Then?" she asks, lifting her eyebrows with that same blend of wonder and suspicion that never fails to make me smile.
Her eyes are wide, brimming with questions she doesn't know how to ask, yet brave enough to try.
"It's something more… something deeper," I whisper, lowering my voice to a slow murmur, letting it graze her ear like a secret carried by the wind. "It's about… touching… but not like this."
I smirk as I watch her shiver, her body responding instinctively to the closeness of mine.
Her breath catches slightly, her lashes fluttering.
"Touching?" she echoes softly, her eyes trailing downward.
Her hand rests on my right thigh, light as a feather, and my palms cradle her cheek and her belly with practiced gentleness.
"But we're touching each other," she says, brows knitting in confusion, her lips parted in quiet thought.
"Not this kind of touch, Malini," I say, leaning back just enough to meet her gaze, my fingers brushing a stray strand of hair off her forehead. "It's… more. It's something that's too much for you right now."
She blinks up at me.
"So… I'm not pregnant?" Her voice is almost hopeful, almost afraid.
"No, you're not," I answer calmly, meeting her eyes and letting the truth settle like dust in sunlight— slow, steady, real.
"Then… how will I become pregnant?" she presses again, innocent curiosity swimming in her gaze.
A small chuckle escapes me, warm and helpless.
I lean in to kiss her crown gently, letting my lips rest there for a beat longer than needed.
"I'll teach you myself… when the time is right," I say against her hair. "Right now, don't overthink it. Just… breathe. Calm that storm in your head."
I straighten up, watching her face, her eyes flicking around like she's trying to decode a new language.
Her forehead creases ever so slightly— she's thinking, doubting, dreaming, all at once.
I chuckle again, softly, and reach out to pat her head.
"I promise," I say, taking her hand gently into mine, "I'll answer every question… every single one. But not now, Phoenix. You're still too young."
Just then—
A soft, almost embarrassed grumble rumbles from her stomach, cutting through the room's lingering stillness like a shy confession.
Her eyes widen, cheeks turning a vivid shade of rose as her hands fly to her belly.
~ She's still young….still learning and I…. I'm admiring.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻.✾.჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻
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