The Spaces Between Us

The First Flutter

Rhea was sixteen weeks along now—four months, though it felt like forever since the day two pink lines had changed everything.

Her body was different. Heavier in ways she hadn't expected, softer in places she hadn't noticed before. The nausea had mostly passed, but the fatigue still came in waves, pulling her down when she least expected it. And yet, every morning she woke up with a strange new brightness. The world felt a little more fragile, a little more precious.

Alex had made sure of that.

He refused to let her cook anymore, no matter how much she pouted about wanting her kitchen back. His rice and dal had become second nature now; his aloo bhaja was crisp and golden, his posto fragrant, his egg curry almost restaurant-worthy. Every evening she came home to the smell of something warm, every morning she found her vitamins set out neatly with breakfast.

"You've spoiled me," she teased one night as she ate straight from the pot of dal he had stirred until it was just right.

"You're carrying my child," Alex replied simply, kissing her temple. "I'm not spoiling you. I'm taking care of what's mine."

He made all the appointments and took her to them. The visits are often very emotional for her, with expectation, fear, and excitement making her feel emotional. The doctors were reassuring, the baby was growing, their baby was now around sixteen weeks old. 

Sometimes his hovering smothered her. The mood swings hit hard—one moment she wanted to cry because her dupatta wouldn't drape right, the next she was laughing so much she couldn't breathe. Alex tried, really tried, to hold her through all of it. He was gentle when they made love, careful when he held her, steady when she felt like her body was no longer her own.

And then came the day of the scan.

He held her hand as the doctor moved the probe across her belly, the room dim, the screen glowing. They couldn't know the gender yet, but Rhea smiled faintly.

"I think it's a boy," she whispered.

Alex squeezed her hand, agreeing aloud—but secretly, deep in his chest, he imagined a daughter too. A little girl with Rhea's eyes and his stubbornness. He didn't say it, not yet. For now, the flicker on the screen was enough.

That same week, late one evening as she curled up on the sofa, something shifted inside her. A ripple, light and startling, almost like the brush of butterfly wings against her belly. She froze, one hand pressing against her stomach.

"Alex," she whispered, eyes wide. "I think I felt it move."

He was on his knees instantly, palm against her skin. "Now? Are you sure?"

She nodded, tears pricking her eyes. "It was so faint... but yes. Our baby's saying hello."

His voice broke as he laughed softly. "My love, I swear I'll never let anything happen to you or this little one."

That vow only deepened in the weeks that followed.

He whispered into her belly "hey little one, this is your baba". 

Rhea looked at Alex fondly, taking every moment in. This was how she imagined her future to be. 

Gaurav arrived for Durga Puja, and what was supposed to be a short visit stretched longer. He hovered almost as much as Alex did. He brought sweets and snacks Rhea liked, fetched water before she asked, and scolded her if she tried to do even the smallest chore.

He would drive her to work if Alex was busy, bring her back home as well. When she complained that she didn't want to have rice and dal, he also got her dumplings. 

Gayatri had sent her lots of handmade pedas and laddos. But she rationed it, fearing she might cause gestational diabetes. 

"You're stressing yourself over me," she complained one afternoon.

"And you're carrying my niece or nephew," he countered firmly. "So no arguments."

Then came the surprise: bags of baby clothes, a bassinet, maternity dresses he insisted she needed. Rhea couldn't believe this was the same aloof, often distant Gaurav that Alex had portrayed.

One night when Alex was working late, she came back home from work with Gaurav. As she sat down on the bed, she winced from swollen feet. Before she could protest, Gaurav sat at the edge of her bed and began to massage them gently.

"Dada," she tried to pull away, embarrassed. "This isn't right—"

"Enough," he said softly, steady. "You're my sister now. Just relax."

She did. And when Alex returned home, the sight stopped him cold: his older brother, usually so reserved, carefully tending to the woman Alex adored. Something softened inside him then. For all the distance they'd had as brothers, this moment felt like healing.

Gaurav had stayed back three weeks, but he needed to leave in a few days, so the last Sunday he was here, he wanted to take them out for a dinner. 

The idea was nice, Rhea was almost seventeen weeks along now, her appetite had become better now. Rhea had been quite tired the last two weeks, work had been tiring. She was planning on telling her work in the next week. 

On Sunday, Gaurav insisted they all go out for dinner. "No excuses, Rhea," he said. "You've been cooped up long enough. Let's celebrate you, celebrate this little one."

Rhea smiled, resting a hand over her belly where the tiniest flutter still lingered, like a secret between her and the child within. For the first time, she felt not just pregnant, but surrounded—by Alex's fierce devotion, by Gaurav's unexpected tenderness, by the family they were building around this fragile new heartbeat.