11-04-2026, 09:26 AM
Chapter 80: The Reality
The lady doctor finished checking Anandhi’s pulse and blood pressure. Her face grew serious as she looked at the two men standing anxiously on either side of the bed, their bodies tense, shoulders rigid, eyes fixed on her.
“Her pulse is stable now,” the doctor said quietly, “but she’s extremely exhausted and emotionally drained. However… I suspect she is pregnant. We need to confirm it properly. I want you to take her to my hospital right now for a scan and urine test. We can’t take any risk with the baby.”
The word “pregnant” hung in the air like a live wire.
Anandhi’s eyes fluttered open at that exact moment. The sound pierced through the fog in her mind. Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach, fingers pressing lightly against the soft fabric of her nighty. Her face drained of colour. Pregnant…? How did I miss every single sign? The tiredness, the slight nausea I brushed off as stress, the missed period I thought was just tension… A wave of disbelief crashed over her, followed immediately by a sharp, twisting guilt. Her heart began hammering so hard she could feel it in her throat.
Suriya stepped forward instantly, his voice steady but his hands trembling slightly at his sides. “I’ll bring the car. We’ll go now.” Inside, his chest felt hollow.
The trio left the villa in heavy silence. Suriya drove, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Rahul sat in the back with Anandhi, holding her hand tightly, his thumb stroking her skin in slow, possessive circles. No one spoke during the twenty-minute drive. Anandhi kept stealing glances at the rear-view mirror. She saw Suriya’s tight jaw, the way his eyes stayed fixed on the road, the subtle clench of his throat as he swallowed hard. He looks so alone up there, she thought, a fresh wave of guilt tightening her chest. I did this to him. I gave him hope, and now…
Suriya’s mind was a storm. I was about to marry her. We were days away from making it official. And now I’m driving her to the hospital while her real husband sits in the back holding her hand. The humiliation burned quietly behind his calm exterior.
At the hospital entrance, the nurse at the reception desk smiled politely.
“Patient’s name?”
“Anandhi,” Rahul answered without hesitation.
The nurse looked up. “And who is the husband?”
Rahul’s hand shot up instantly, clear and confident. Suriya’s hand moved a split second later, then froze halfway in the air. The hesitation was tiny — barely noticeable to anyone else — but Anandhi saw it in sharp, painful detail. Suriya’s eyes flicked toward Rahul, then dropped to the floor. That single micro-moment of uncertainty twisted something deep inside her. He hesitated… because he knows he isn’t the one the world sees as my husband. Her throat tightened with an ache she couldn’t name — part love, part pity, part unbearable guilt.
The nurse handed Anandhi a small bottle. “Urine sample, please.”
Rahul stood up at once, gently helping Anandhi to her feet, his arm sliding protectively around her waist as he walked her toward the bathroom. Suriya remained seated, forced into idle silence, feeling the weight of curious public eyes on them. He stared at the floor, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. I can’t even stand up and walk with her without looking like the outsider. The embarrassment stung more than he expected.
Rahul walked beside Anandhi with a calm, almost serene smile on his face, but inside his heart was singing with quiet, dark satisfaction. This is the first real crack. Practical life is already pushing him aside. Society, the nurses, the forms — everything is naturally choosing me. He didn’t need to fight. The world was doing it for him.
They waited in the corridor. When Anandhi’s name was called, both men stood up at the same time, bodies moving on instinct. The nurse raised her hand.
“Only patient inside.”
A moment later another nurse appeared and called, “Anandhi kooda vandthavanga vanga. (Patients Attender get in with Anandhi please)”
Both men moved forward again. The nurse immediately placed a polite but firm hand on Suriya’s arm.
“Avaru husband pogatum… neenga inga ukkarunga.” (Let her husband go… you sit here.)
Suriya froze. The words landed like a quiet slap. He slowly lowered himself back onto the bench, eyes burning with unspoken pain. Anandhi glanced back at him just once before entering the room with Rahul. The look in Suriya’s eyes — that quiet, resigned hurt — lodged itself in her heart like a thorn.
Inside the consultation room, the doctor reviewed the reports and smiled warmly at Rahul.
“Congratulations, Mr. Rahul. Your wife is pregnant. 12–14 weeks. Scans and urine results are all good. She is healthy, but today’s fainting was likely due to stress and elevated blood pressure. You need to take better care of her from now on. No more pressure or arguments. Keep her calm.”
Anandhi and Rahul exchanged a stunned glance. 12–14 weeks. The timeline hit them both like a hammer. That was the exact period when she and Suriya had been lost in their most intense, passionate affair — night after night of wild, emotional sex. Rahul had only been with her twice during that window as Jeeva. The numbers screamed the truth.
Most likely Suriya’s, Rahul thought, keeping his face perfectly neutral while a storm of jealousy and calculation raged inside him.
Anandhi’s mind spun wildly. Unplanned… and Rahul is back in my life again. Her hand trembled on her lap. What if it is Suriya’s baby? This news will complicate everything even more. Rahul has just returned, and now this… She felt a fresh wave of panic and guilt wash over her, her chest tightening until it hurt to breathe.
The doctor noticed their silence. “Hello? Both of you look lost. Is this unplanned?”
Anandhi nodded weakly, voice barely audible. “Yes.”
The doctor laughed kindly. “Most couples say the same thing. They plan for months and nothing happens, but sometimes life surprises us with an unplanned gift.”
She prescribed tablets and gave strict rest instructions. When they finally came out, Suriya was still waiting on the bench, outwardly calm but with visible disappointment and quiet pain etched across his features.
As soon as they reached him, Anandhi said softly, almost apologetically, “Suriya… I’m pregnant.”
Suriya forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Inside, happiness, confusion, and a deep, aching uncertainty warred inside him. A baby. Possibly mine. But I’m not even casually abled to get stand beside her as the father and i cant as long as Rahul is here Anandhi dont take a solid decision.
The nurse who had been nearby overheard and beamed at Rahul. “Sir, you are going to be a father again! Give us some treat, okay?”
She then glanced at Suriya and joked lightly, “This person seems to be worrying more than you. Is he a relative?”
Anandhi answered quickly, voice tight, “Yes, we are relatives.” She didn’t entertain any more casual talk. “Let’s go.”
Anandhi felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her chest seeing how neatly and effortlessly Suriya had been sidelined in public — the hesitation at the husband question, the nurse stopping him at the door, the congratulations going only to Rahul. Even she felt a quiet, burning ache at how Rahul had silently allowed it all to happen without a word of correction.
In the parking lot, Suriya started the engine. Rahul opened the back door, but Anandhi shook her head, her voice soft but firm.
“I’ll sit in front with Suriya.”
Rahul didn’t argue. He simply closed the door and sat in the back. Inside, he was smiling — a quiet, satisfied smile no one could see. He had seen the cue he needed. Practical life was already pushing Suriya to the side, step by step. He didn’t need to fight. The world would do it for him.
Back at home, Rahul decided the time had come for the open talk. He would lay out every practical complexity in front of both of them and gently, firmly force Anandhi to make a real decision. He would ask the questions that had no easy answers:
What will you call Suriya in front of the kids?
What will you tell the college and society when the baby is born?
How will you explain two men living in the same house while claiming only one husband?
He was ready to use every practical reality to make Suriya step back naturally — without ever looking like the villain.
The fragile peace they had found in the hospital was about to be tested again, and this time there would be no hiding from the truth.
The lady doctor finished checking Anandhi’s pulse and blood pressure. Her face grew serious as she looked at the two men standing anxiously on either side of the bed, their bodies tense, shoulders rigid, eyes fixed on her.
“Her pulse is stable now,” the doctor said quietly, “but she’s extremely exhausted and emotionally drained. However… I suspect she is pregnant. We need to confirm it properly. I want you to take her to my hospital right now for a scan and urine test. We can’t take any risk with the baby.”
The word “pregnant” hung in the air like a live wire.
Anandhi’s eyes fluttered open at that exact moment. The sound pierced through the fog in her mind. Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach, fingers pressing lightly against the soft fabric of her nighty. Her face drained of colour. Pregnant…? How did I miss every single sign? The tiredness, the slight nausea I brushed off as stress, the missed period I thought was just tension… A wave of disbelief crashed over her, followed immediately by a sharp, twisting guilt. Her heart began hammering so hard she could feel it in her throat.
Suriya stepped forward instantly, his voice steady but his hands trembling slightly at his sides. “I’ll bring the car. We’ll go now.” Inside, his chest felt hollow.
The trio left the villa in heavy silence. Suriya drove, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Rahul sat in the back with Anandhi, holding her hand tightly, his thumb stroking her skin in slow, possessive circles. No one spoke during the twenty-minute drive. Anandhi kept stealing glances at the rear-view mirror. She saw Suriya’s tight jaw, the way his eyes stayed fixed on the road, the subtle clench of his throat as he swallowed hard. He looks so alone up there, she thought, a fresh wave of guilt tightening her chest. I did this to him. I gave him hope, and now…
Suriya’s mind was a storm. I was about to marry her. We were days away from making it official. And now I’m driving her to the hospital while her real husband sits in the back holding her hand. The humiliation burned quietly behind his calm exterior.
At the hospital entrance, the nurse at the reception desk smiled politely.
“Patient’s name?”
“Anandhi,” Rahul answered without hesitation.
The nurse looked up. “And who is the husband?”
Rahul’s hand shot up instantly, clear and confident. Suriya’s hand moved a split second later, then froze halfway in the air. The hesitation was tiny — barely noticeable to anyone else — but Anandhi saw it in sharp, painful detail. Suriya’s eyes flicked toward Rahul, then dropped to the floor. That single micro-moment of uncertainty twisted something deep inside her. He hesitated… because he knows he isn’t the one the world sees as my husband. Her throat tightened with an ache she couldn’t name — part love, part pity, part unbearable guilt.
The nurse handed Anandhi a small bottle. “Urine sample, please.”
Rahul stood up at once, gently helping Anandhi to her feet, his arm sliding protectively around her waist as he walked her toward the bathroom. Suriya remained seated, forced into idle silence, feeling the weight of curious public eyes on them. He stared at the floor, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. I can’t even stand up and walk with her without looking like the outsider. The embarrassment stung more than he expected.
Rahul walked beside Anandhi with a calm, almost serene smile on his face, but inside his heart was singing with quiet, dark satisfaction. This is the first real crack. Practical life is already pushing him aside. Society, the nurses, the forms — everything is naturally choosing me. He didn’t need to fight. The world was doing it for him.
They waited in the corridor. When Anandhi’s name was called, both men stood up at the same time, bodies moving on instinct. The nurse raised her hand.
“Only patient inside.”
A moment later another nurse appeared and called, “Anandhi kooda vandthavanga vanga. (Patients Attender get in with Anandhi please)”
Both men moved forward again. The nurse immediately placed a polite but firm hand on Suriya’s arm.
“Avaru husband pogatum… neenga inga ukkarunga.” (Let her husband go… you sit here.)
Suriya froze. The words landed like a quiet slap. He slowly lowered himself back onto the bench, eyes burning with unspoken pain. Anandhi glanced back at him just once before entering the room with Rahul. The look in Suriya’s eyes — that quiet, resigned hurt — lodged itself in her heart like a thorn.
Inside the consultation room, the doctor reviewed the reports and smiled warmly at Rahul.
“Congratulations, Mr. Rahul. Your wife is pregnant. 12–14 weeks. Scans and urine results are all good. She is healthy, but today’s fainting was likely due to stress and elevated blood pressure. You need to take better care of her from now on. No more pressure or arguments. Keep her calm.”
Anandhi and Rahul exchanged a stunned glance. 12–14 weeks. The timeline hit them both like a hammer. That was the exact period when she and Suriya had been lost in their most intense, passionate affair — night after night of wild, emotional sex. Rahul had only been with her twice during that window as Jeeva. The numbers screamed the truth.
Most likely Suriya’s, Rahul thought, keeping his face perfectly neutral while a storm of jealousy and calculation raged inside him.
Anandhi’s mind spun wildly. Unplanned… and Rahul is back in my life again. Her hand trembled on her lap. What if it is Suriya’s baby? This news will complicate everything even more. Rahul has just returned, and now this… She felt a fresh wave of panic and guilt wash over her, her chest tightening until it hurt to breathe.
The doctor noticed their silence. “Hello? Both of you look lost. Is this unplanned?”
Anandhi nodded weakly, voice barely audible. “Yes.”
The doctor laughed kindly. “Most couples say the same thing. They plan for months and nothing happens, but sometimes life surprises us with an unplanned gift.”
She prescribed tablets and gave strict rest instructions. When they finally came out, Suriya was still waiting on the bench, outwardly calm but with visible disappointment and quiet pain etched across his features.
As soon as they reached him, Anandhi said softly, almost apologetically, “Suriya… I’m pregnant.”
Suriya forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Inside, happiness, confusion, and a deep, aching uncertainty warred inside him. A baby. Possibly mine. But I’m not even casually abled to get stand beside her as the father and i cant as long as Rahul is here Anandhi dont take a solid decision.
The nurse who had been nearby overheard and beamed at Rahul. “Sir, you are going to be a father again! Give us some treat, okay?”
She then glanced at Suriya and joked lightly, “This person seems to be worrying more than you. Is he a relative?”
Anandhi answered quickly, voice tight, “Yes, we are relatives.” She didn’t entertain any more casual talk. “Let’s go.”
Anandhi felt a sharp, stabbing pain in her chest seeing how neatly and effortlessly Suriya had been sidelined in public — the hesitation at the husband question, the nurse stopping him at the door, the congratulations going only to Rahul. Even she felt a quiet, burning ache at how Rahul had silently allowed it all to happen without a word of correction.
In the parking lot, Suriya started the engine. Rahul opened the back door, but Anandhi shook her head, her voice soft but firm.
“I’ll sit in front with Suriya.”
Rahul didn’t argue. He simply closed the door and sat in the back. Inside, he was smiling — a quiet, satisfied smile no one could see. He had seen the cue he needed. Practical life was already pushing Suriya to the side, step by step. He didn’t need to fight. The world would do it for him.
Back at home, Rahul decided the time had come for the open talk. He would lay out every practical complexity in front of both of them and gently, firmly force Anandhi to make a real decision. He would ask the questions that had no easy answers:
What will you call Suriya in front of the kids?
What will you tell the college and society when the baby is born?
How will you explain two men living in the same house while claiming only one husband?
He was ready to use every practical reality to make Suriya step back naturally — without ever looking like the villain.
The fragile peace they had found in the hospital was about to be tested again, and this time there would be no hiding from the truth.
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