Page 61 of Empowered

I knelt to meet him and burrowed myself into his body, needing to be close to the man that I had missed for far too long.

“Never push me away again,” I whispered, smiling into his chest as he rested his chin on my head.

“Never.”

Epilogue

Shyam

6 Years Later

The sun had just set, leaving my office shadowed in the mild darkness that comes with dusk. With every sunset in December, the Indian sun took its heat with it when it slept for the night, allowing a chill to permeate every room in the house.

The light from my desk lamp kept me company as I wrapped up paperwork in my office. I attempted to not make work a habit whenever I was on winter vacation in India, but my duties at Sethi Tech needed attention. We had acquired several more startups in the past few months and I needed to give the contracts one last look over before signing them to make the mergers complete.

Through my open office door, I heard a loud crash down the hallway. My heartbeat quickened as I pushed back from my desk. My stride was usually long but each step I took now was the size of two of my regular steps. I could have sworn the sound had come from the library.

The door was cracked, but I couldn’t see in clearly. I pushed the door in slowly, my body on high alert. I peered into the darkness and saw several books scattered onto the floor and two small figures in front of one of the bookcases.

“I don’t see it!” whispered one of the figures, who was on her tiptoes, trying to see on a shelf that was too high for her.

“Maybe it’s not here,” whispered the voice of the littlest figure.

“Mommy put it back here yesterday. I saw her,” the girl scolded the little boy, who stood behind her, watching her expectantly.

The boy tried to keep his voice quiet, but it came out a shout. “Hurry up, before—”

I flicked on the light switch, bathing the room in bright lights. The two little figures were startled. The girl backed away from the bookcase and the boy hid his hands behind his back, face frozen with guilt. They both stared up at me with doe eyes like I had just caught them in the middle of committing the most heinous crime—as heinous as a five- and three-year-old could commit.

“What are you two doing down here?” I asked, trying hard to hide my grin. Why did kids look so damn cute when they were caught red-handed? Maybe I was just a pushover for them when they misbehaved. For that reason, their mother was the disciplinarian.

“We were looking for a book,” said Meena. Even though she was only five and dressed in a pink night dress with ruffles, she carried herself with the air of a woman. She looked like her mother, with green eyes and freckled cheeks, and was smart like her too, but her hair was dark like mine and she had my stubbornness.

“Well, you’re in the right place,” I said, eyeing the puddle of books around their bare feet. “What book are you looking for?”

“The one we read last night,” Dylan exclaimed as he jumped up and down in his striped pajamas. He was only three years old and was the cutest boy I had ever seen, with his mop of black hair and chubby cheeks. He could never stay still and was always on the go. He was just like me, always looking for something new to explore.

“Rikki-Tikki-Tavi?” It was the only book they ever wanted to read since landing here for Christmas vacation.

“Yeaaaaaaaaaaah!” they shouted, both jumping up and down now.

I remembered I had left the book on the coffee table, so I turned around and grabbed it. “Here it is,” I said, shaking it in the air.

“Yayyyyyy!” Finding the book earned me a round of applause from my audience.

“Now, let’s clean up these books on the floor and go find Mom. You two should be in bed by now.”

After we cleaned up all the books, we made our way upstairs to their room. They had separate bedrooms at our house in New York, but Dylan needed to sleep with Meena here in India, or else he’d end up in our bed in the middle of the night. I refused to let that be an option because I wanted his mom to myself.

With the book tucked under my arm, I held two little hands in my oversized ones as we walked down the hall. The walls had once been covered with art pieces, but now they were filled with family photos. We passed our wedding photos, which had been taken here in India.

We had a traditional Indian wedding here at the house shortly after I proposed. I couldn’t wait any longer to make her my wife. The entire house staff were thrilled to host the event for us and went to great lengths to make her dream wedding come to life. All my men were in attendance, as well as her mother and friends from Seattle and New York. She was a vision in her bridal wear, adorned with jewels and the finest fabrics. I had never seen a woman so beautiful.

We passed photos of when Meena and Dylan were born and their first Christmases here in the house. Family photos with Jai, Zayn, and her mother were included in our photo gallery, too.

We entered their room, and the kids barreled toward their mother, who was reclining on the bed, waiting for them to come back.

“Where were you, kiddos? I thought you were just going to go pick out a book, not take a mini vacation downstairs!” my wife said, her eyes alight with happiness as she cuddled a child in each arm.My wife.I always knew Amelia was the most radiant woman I had ever laid eyes on, but after becoming a mother, she had a glow about her that was undeniable. She had taken to motherhood like it was second nature to her.

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