It happened in the dead of night. Pain tore through Gunnu, and the household scrambled for doctors. Abhinav, usually calm under fire, now paced like a caged tiger outside the labor room. Every cry from within shredded his heart.
Hours felt like years. Then—finally—he was called in.
And there she was, Gunnu pale but radiant, cradling a tiny bundle. Their child. So small, so fragile, yet louder than any victory trumpet.
Abhinav’s hands trembled as he held the baby for the first time. A soldier who once carried rifles now cradled life itself. His eyes burned.
Gunnu smiled sleepily, whispering, “See? Our gummy-soldier made it.”
He kissed her forehead reverently. “You’re my strength, Gunnu. Always.”
In that hospital room, beneath sterile lights, the greatest victory of his life was born.
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