A month had passed—soft and fleeting—carried forward by the rhythm of endless love and laughter. The Rajput mansion had transformed into a melody of clinking teacups, gentle laughter, and the occasional chaos of a growing family. Akriti’s pregnancy had entered its fifth month, and her adorable baby bump had become the heart of the household.

Sarthak, ever the doting husband, rarely left her side. From the waves of morning sickness to the swelling in her feet and the constant headaches, he stood by her—holding her hair back, massaging her temples, and pressing gentle kisses to her belly as if apologizing for every discomfort she bore.

Even little Aarav, once the cheeky mischief-maker of the house, seemed to have matured overnight. He now proudly announced to anyone who'd listen, “Main bada bhai banne wala hoon. I have to be responsible.”

[I’m going to be a big brother. I need to be responsible.]

He had learned to massage his mother’s feet with careful hands. When asked why he no longer threw tantrums, his chest puffed up with pride. No one in the house could resist the pure love he poured into his unborn sibling. It felt like healing.

On the other end of that emotional spectrum were Shashi and Aakash—a couple so deeply rooted in love that it no longer needed grand declarations. Their bond had matured into something unbreakable—stronger than steel, softer than breath. Misunderstandings had melted away, replaced by quiet understanding and wordless devotion. They had grown into one another like poetry melting into music.

Each morning brought fresh evidence of their passion—his kisses mapped like constellations across her skin, her sighs stitched into his breath. The language of love had become touch, gaze, silence. She no longer needed to hear "I love you" to believe it. She lived it.

The woman who once believed men were stone figures carved in ego now blushed like a teenager caught in a love letter. Every weekend, they slipped away—on long drives, under candlelit skies, or in silence watching stolen sunsets. In each other, they hadn’t just found romance; they had found home.

And today… today crowned every journey they had walked together.

The hospital—her hospital—was finally opening. Shashi’s lifelong dream, carved from the ashes of old pain and the steel of relentless determination, now stood tall. Today, she wasn’t just a doctor. She was a woman reborn.

Standing on the stage, beneath soft shimmering lights, Shashi wore a black and gold silk saree that clung to her like devotion. Her cascading waves of hair framed a face lit with grace. The choker at her throat shimmered with quiet power, and her stillness silenced even the breeze.

As the audience hushed, she stepped forward, brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek. She inhaled deeply—enough to hold her entire journey within—and began to speak.

> "Every time I achieved something in life, I never gave anyone the credit. And I don’t regret it—because back then, no one was worthy of it. But today...

Today, as I stand here as the owner of this hospital… I can finally say—I have a family I can give my heart to."

Her voice didn’t tremble, but it softened the air.

> "A mother who prays for me. A grandmother who blesses me. A father-like brother. A sister who never left my side. A friend who’s been my light.

A mischievous nephew, a best friend in a brother, and a younger one who anchors me. Each of them is my pillar."

She paused—eyes glinting under the lights.

> "My sister… she’s my pride. She caught me every time I was about to collapse. When others let me fall, she became my spine."

The room stilled. The silence was heavy with understanding.

> "Since I was a child, this was my dream—this hospital. A place where lives are saved. I used to imagine walking its corridors… and now, they’re mine."

Her voice thickened slightly, but still no tears.

> "If I look back... I was a girl with no will to live. Bitter. Broken. Angry.

But today, I have someone who made me believe again. Someone for whom my heart beats, and my soul breathes."

She gently placed a hand over her heart.

> "The girl you once knew was Dr. Shashi Oberoi. But the woman you see today… is not just a doctor.

She’s someone who finally understands the value of people, the power of love, and the blessing of belonging."

And then, she smiled—radiant, whole.

> "So today, let me reintroduce myself—not as a lonely warrior… but as a woman who found her forever.

I am the wife of Dr. Aakash Singh Rajput.

I am Dr. Shashi Aakash Singh Rajput."

The auditorium exploded in applause—loud, reverent, overwhelmed.

Aakash had already risen. He clapped slower than the rest, his eyes memorizing every second, trying to etch this goddess of a woman into his soul.

The crowd, still caught in whispers, had never known of Shashi's marital life. To them, she was a doctor, brilliant and alone.

She stepped off the stage, walking toward Aakash.

Without a word, she embraced him tightly.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too, Doctor,” he replied with a soft laugh.

A few members of the family cleared their throats—playfully disapproving of the public affection. They broke apart with chuckles, and Shashi turned toward Dadi Saa.

She hugged her tightly, whispering, “Thank you.”

Dadi Saa patted her head, voice teasing but warm.

“Who says thank you to their grandmother, silly girl.”

> “Congratulations, Doctor Sahiba.”

A familiar voice echoed.

Laksha Oberoi walked in like a monsoon storm—wrapped in silk and command. Her ivory suit was tailored to perfection, cinched with a gleaming white belt. The blazer draped over her like royalty, the bustier beneath embroidered with golden lace that shimmered against her skin. Gold chains layered around her neck caught the light like whispered warnings. She wasn’t trying to make a statement. She was the statement—bold, breathtaking, untouchable.

Shashi smiled—and walked straight past her.

Laksha expected a hug… or at least a greeting.

But Shashi walked directly to Lee-Yoon and lifted baby Shashwat into her arms. The little one giggled and buried into her shoulder.

“Hello, Chutku CEO,” Shashi cooed.

Laksha crossed her arms with mock indignation.

“Bro, am I invisible to you?”

Shashi smirked.

“Since when do you crave attention?”

Shashi then took Shashwat aside, sitting in a quiet corner, whispering and giggling with him.

A gentle touch on her lower back made her look up. Aakash had joined her.

“Mrs. Rajput, may I play with your nephew?” he asked, eyes twinkling.

She chuckled as Aakash lifted the baby into his arms, gently rocking him.

“So, Mr. Oberoi… are you okay?”

Shashwat squealed with joy.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Aakash laughed. “You’re amazing, boss baby.”

> “Dr. Shashi Oberoi.”

A sharp voice called out. She turned.

There he was—Vrishank Das.

Shashi smiled calmly.

“You’re late, Sir.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Oberoi.”

She tilted her head.

“It’s completely fine, Sir.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? Stop calling me Sir. You can call me Vrishank.”

Before she could answer, Aakash extended a polite hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Das.”

Vrishank raised an eyebrow.

“Aakash, stop acting like we’re meeting for the first time.”

Both men chuckled. Vrishank gestured toward the crowd.

“I’ll go meet Sarthak.”

And walked away.

__________________________________

_______

That's it for today's chapter Hope you like it  

I'm sorry if I missed anyone during her speech ... 

Please vote and comment