\u201cIt\u2019s called Mother. I\u2019ve never shown it before.
\nBut today I want you to see it.\u201d
\nI lifted the cloth. There she was\u2014Meera.
\nIn a hospital bed, pale and fragile.
\nIn her hand, a photo\u2014of the three of us, on the only trip we ever took together.
\nMy knees buckled.
\nArjun\u2019s voice didn\u2019t tremble:
\n\u201cBefore she died, she wrote a diary.
\nShe knew you didn\u2019t love me.
\nBut she still believed\u2014that one day you would understand.
\nBecause\u2026 I am not another man\u2019s child.\u201d
\nI stopped breathing.
\n\u201cWhat\u2026?\u201d
\n\u201cYes. I am your child.
\nShe was already pregnant when she met you.
\nBut she told you it was someone else\u2019s\u2014to test your heart.
\nAnd then, it was too late to confess.\u201d
\n\u201cI found the truth in her diary. Hidden in the old attic.\u201d
\nMy world fell apart.<\/p>\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/newsx48.info\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/08\/comntinue-reading.jpeg\")
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