Just Remarried

●3. His Life, His Daughter●

May 17, 2015

His chest was rising and falling rhythmically. His breathing was slow and steady. He was feeling warm under the duvet. His features were much softer in sleep; he looked peaceful, wanting nothing more than to curl up into the curve of his body. He was smiling in his sleep, in his dream.

How strange it is! In our sleep we are children again; dreaming about the past things, things that will never be again. Dreams have comfort, freedom and love. Sometimes, we dream about the people we lost and for those perfect hours of sleep we are whole again, in their presence. And sometimes, they are nightmares, but those are getting fewer.

Suddenly, a little girl climbed on top of him and held the collars of his t-shirt and shook him with all her strength.

"Daddy!" She banged her small hands on his chest to wake him up.

[You can imagine her talking in her baby tone.]

"Daddy, wake up!" She jumped on his broad muscular chest.

"Daddy!" She huffed, finally tired as her efforts didn't affect him a bit.

She looked down with a pout. She was sad. It was Sunday and he had promised her to take her out. And here, he wasn't even waking up.

"I hate you daddy!" She mumbled angrily that nobody could hear. It was another matter that there was no one too.

"But I love you princess." He pulled her as he opened his eyes and wrapped his big, strong arms around her small body, making her hug his chest.

He kissed her forehead and mumbled against her forehead, "Good Morning."

"Daddy, you broke our promise." She said with a pout as she made herself sit on his chest properly.

"Nope!" He shook his head childishly. "Your daddy has not!" The edges of her lips started to lift upward hearing him. "Tell me where do you wanna go? Park?" He asked and she literally jumped on his chest, making him feel pain but he just smiled seeing her happy.

His eyes fell on her smiling lips and just then he noticed that small mole beneath her lips. "She is so like my Diya. My little Diya." He passed a small sad smile at her.

Rishaan Chauhan, a thirty two years old man who lived only with his daughter, Disha, who was three years old. She was the only hope for him to live after losing his wife Diya, for ever.

Flashback (3 years ago)

"Rishu!"

"Rishu?"

"Ugh! Rishu, I want to drink water!" Diya—Rishaan's wife yelled, irritated.

"Sorry sorry sorry!" Rishaan literally ran out of the bathroom, wrapping just a towel around his lower waist. "Baby!" He called out as he poured water into a glass and held out his hand.

Gulping down water slowly, Diya handed the glass back to him. She leaned back and rested her head back on the headboard.

"Are you alright?" Rishaan asked as he sat facing her and put his hand on the back of her palm. She nodded her head, closing her eyes.

Rishaan moved closer to her and put his palm on her baby bump and moved his hand gently.

"Papa is waiting for you. Just come out very soon, papa can't wait more." Rishaan leaned in and kissed on her stomach.

Diya smiled with a little chuckle, with her closed eyes. He looked at her and her dimples melted his heart. If he had no office or work, he would surely sit there, watching her all day around.