A R V I

“Mommy, where’s my other sock?”

I smiled, trying not to laugh as I pulled open the drawer. “The sock didn’t run away, baby. You just flung it under the bed last night while dancing like a tornado.”

Vani stood with her hands on her hips, already dressed in her school uniform except for the one missing sock. Her hair was half tied, her ribbon dangling off one pigtail.

I found the sock, slightly crumpled, and tossed it to her. “Gotcha!”

She caught it like a cricketer and beamed. “You’re the bestest, Mumma.”

“I try.” I winked, kneeling to fix her hair and tie her ribbon properly.

She leaned into me, her warm cheek brushing mine. “Can I take two muffins today? One for me, one for Aiara?”

I kissed her forehead. “Yes, but only if you promise to share your crayons too.”

She gave a dramatic sigh. “Fine.”

I packed her lunch, tucked the muffins in carefully, and handed her the little pink bag she’d insisted on getting with sparkles and cartoon cats. Then, I helped her into her shoes, zipped up her hoodie, and we stood by the door.

Her small fingers slipped into mine. “I love you, Mumma.”

“I love you more, my butterfly.”

After dropping her off at school, I walked back down the cobbled lane to Bloom & Crumb. The sign above the door swayed gently in the morning breeze.

I pushed open the door, the warm aroma of cinnamon and coffee welcoming me like an old friend.

“Alright, let’s get to work,” I murmured to myself, tying my apron and switching on the lights.

The flowers looked fresh and vibrant, and the display case was ready for the day’s batch of muffins, cupcakes, and cream puffs. I rolled up my sleeves, about to start setting the trays when the bell over the door jingled.

“Don’t tell me you started without me!”

I turned and grinned. “Sofi.”

Sofi walked in, her curly hair bouncing, a bright scarf knotted around her neck, and a huge smile on her face. She carried a box of fresh strawberries in one hand and a bag of supplies in the other.

“You’re late,” I teased, walking over to hug her.

“And you’re too organized,” she shot back, squeezing me. “Also, Vani told me yesterday I’m her official masi now. I demand privileges.”

I laughed, “She already calls you masi. What more do you want?”

Sofi dropped her bags and plopped down on a stool. “A lifetime supply of strawberry tarts and an emotional award speech where you thank me for surviving your baking disasters in the beginning.”

“Oh please,” I rolled my eyes. “You nearly burned down my kitchen trying to toast marshmallows.”

“But I stayed,” she said, her tone softer now. “I stayed, and I’ll always stay.”

I looked at her my fierce, loyal, loud, kind Sofi. The friend who found me in Shimla when I was just learning to breathe again. Who braided my hair on nights when I couldn’t sleep. Who loved Vani like her own blood.

“You’re family,” I whispered.

She smiled, reaching for an apron. “Now let’s bake some healing.”

We got to work, the shop slowly filling with the scent of sugar and love, with laughter and music.

And even though life had once torn me apart, in this little corner of the world, surrounded by warmth and women who stayed

I was whole again.

—

I stepped into the house, setting my bag down quietly. The lights were dim, and the air felt heavier than usual.

“Vani?” I called out gently.

No answer.

I slipped off my heels and walked toward the living room.

There she was.

Curled up on the couch like a little ball, her school uniform still on, bag tossed beside her. Her unicorn plushie clutched so tightly I could see the strain in her knuckles.

My heart immediately dropped.

I rushed over. “Vani? What happened?”

She didn’t look at me.

Didn’t blink.

Just stared blankly at the TV that wasn’t even on.

I knelt beside her, brushing her hair back. “Baby, talk to me. Why do you look so sad?”

Silence.

Then suddenly, like something cracked wide open inside her, her lips wobbled and tears spilled down her cheeks.

She sat up and wrapped her arms around my neck so tightly, it felt like she was trying to hold herself together through me.

And then, between sobs, she whispered the words that broke me,

“Tomorrow is Father’s Day… they’re having a function at school… but I don’t have a dad, Mumma. Everyone else does. Where is mine? Why isn’t he here with me?”

I froze.

I had played this conversation a hundred times in my head. Practiced the words. Imagined the timing. Hoped it would come much later.

But now, nothing could prepare me for the weight in her voice.

I pulled her into my lap, holding her like she was three again, rocking her gently as she cried against my chest.

“I’m sorry,” she kept whispering, “I’m sorry I asked…”

“No, no, my love,” I said, pressing kisses to her damp cheeks. “You don’t have to be sorry. You’re allowed to ask. You’re allowed to feel. You’re allowed to cry.”

Her hands gripped my kurti tighter.

“But why did he leave me?”

I closed my eyes, swallowing the ache in my throat.

“Sometimes, baby,” I said carefully, “people walk away… not because you did something wrong, but because they aren’t strong enough to stay. Your papa didn’t know how to love the way you deserve.”

“But I want him, Mumma. I want to know what it feels like to have a Dad too.”

She looked at me then those big, teary eyes searching mine like I had answers that could fix her broken world.

I gently wiped her tears. “I know, sweetheart. I wish I could give you that. I really do.”

She buried her face into me again, hiccupping. “I don’t want to go to school tomorrow.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay. We won’t go. Or… if you want, I’ll come with you. I’ll be your ‘Dad’ for the day. We can show them that love doesn’t need a title.”

She looked at me for a second. “You’ll dance with me?”

I smiled softly, even though my chest felt like it was burning. “I’ll dance. I’ll cheer. I’ll do whatever makes you smile.”

And for the first time that evening… she did.

A small one.

Crooked, tired, but it was there.

I held her for a long time after that, long after the tears dried and the questions faded.

After her tears dried and the ache in her eyes softened just a little, I ran my fingers through Vani’s hair and said with forced cheer, “You know what we need right now?”

She looked up, sniffling. “What?”

“A little sugar, a little flour… and a whole lot of magic. Let’s bake something together, hmm?”

Her eyes lit up just a bit. “Cupcakes?”

“Cupcakes,” I nodded, smiling like my heart wasn’t tearing in half.

We went to the kitchen. I tied the apron around her tiny waist and rolled up her sleeves. She giggled as I dusted her nose with flour.

I laughed too loud, animated, like the sound would fill the empty spaces in my chest. She stirred the batter like a pro, declaring herself “Head Chef” while I was demoted to “Helper.”



Them♡

The kitchen smelled of vanilla and something warmer something like love.

She licked frosting from the spoon, her laughter echoing off the walls. I kept my smile on, feeding off her happiness, bottling every second of it like sunshine in a jar.

But inside?

Inside I was breaking.

Because while she stood there, glowing under the soft kitchen lights, with a smudge of chocolate on her cheek and hope trying to return to her heart I was thinking about the man who gave her those blue eyes but not his name.

I thought of the school function.

Of the dance she would do tomorrow, still holding a little ache behind her smile.

Of all the questions I’ll have to answer one day with more than just a hug.

She deserved more.

More than just a mother trying to play both parts.

More than quiet apologies in the form of cupcakes.

“Mumma,” she said suddenly, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“Yes, baby?”

“This is the best cupcake ever.”

I smiled, my throat tight. “Because you made it.”

She beamed. “We made it.”

Yes, we did.

And maybe that’s what we’ll keep doing baking joy out of heartbreak, love out of absence, and magic out of nothing.

The morning sunlight slipped through the curtains, painting golden stripes across the floor. I was braiding Vani’s hair, her head tilted slightly as she hummed under her breath some silly rhyme she made up about unicorns and cupcakes.

“Hold still,” I said, smiling as I secured the second braid and reached for her ribbon. “We don’t want one braid doing dance while the other does garba.”

She giggled. “Mummaaa, that makes no sense.”

“Neither does your playlist, but here we are.”

She stuck her tongue out at me through the mirror, and I tapped her nose. “Go get your shoes, butterfly. We’re running late.”

She skipped out of the room, singing loudly. I could hear her rummaging through the shoe rack, grumbling about how her left shoe was always the one playing hide and seek.

I stood up, smoothing the creases in her uniform, adjusting the tiny collar like I always did, when the doorbell rang.

Odd. It was early for anyone to

Before I could reach the door, it opened.

“Rooo!!!”

Her squeal made my heart stop.

I watched from the hallway as she ran barefoot and breathless and flung herself straight into Rahul’s arms.

He caught her mid-air, laughing as she wrapped her arms tight around his neck.

“I missed you soooo much!” she cried, burying her face into his shoulder.

He pulled her in tighter. “I missed you more, cupcake.”

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching them like some scene out of a life that used to scare me one where I wasn't alone anymore. My heart was a confusing mess of warmth and... something I didn’t have time to name.

Vani finally pulled back, grinning up at him. “Where were you? I drew you a unicorn card and everything.”

“I was in Mumbai for work, sweetheart,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But I told your mum I’d be back in time for something very special.”

Vani blinked. “Special?”

He looked at me for a second, his eyes soft, asking permission without words.

I nodded.

Rahul turned to her again. “I’m coming with you to school today. For the Father’s Day function.”

Vani’s eyes widened. “You are?!”

“Yep. If you’ll let me.”

She launched into another hug. “You’re the BEST!”

And just like that just like that my little girl, who had cried herself to sleep last nights  asking why she didn’t have a dad, was now dancing in the living room with her arms around a man who never tried to replace anyone… just stood beside us when the world got too heavy.

I turned away, swallowing the lump in my throat. Rahul caught my eye over her shoulder and smiled gently. Not a single word passed, but I knew he understood.

I blinked the tears away.

There wasn’t time for tears today.

Only ribbons, shoes, cupcakes in paper bags and a little girl who finally felt seen.

A/N

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