The day my wife went into labor, I took her to a major hospital in Mumbai, my heart pounding with anxiety. Her hands were red and sweaty as she pressed mine. This was our first child—the very embodiment of what we had been waiting for the past nine months. Little did I know that this sacred moment would open the door for me to confront sins buried deep in my past.

When the nurse pushed my wife’s stretcher into the delivery room, I tried to follow her, but I was stopped. A female doctor emerged, her white blouse and medical gloves ready. Her eyes looked directly at me.

I was stunned.

She—none other than Ananya.

Ananya, my ex-girlfriend, whom I had left seven years earlier. The girl I had turned my back on when I found out she was six months pregnant. At that time, I was young, without a career, and unprepared to become a father. I panicked, left, cut off all contact, and pretended nothing had happened. I thought time would erase everything. I thought Ananya would disappear from my life.

But today, as my wife lay on the delivery table, she was the team leader.

I stammered:

– Ah… Ananya…

She didn’t answer, just looked at me, her eyes calm and cold. Then she turned to the nurse:

– Prepare for surgery. The fetus’s heart rate is slow.

Before entering the room, she looked at me once more. Her voice was so soft I had to strain to hear it clearly.

– “Reap the consequences of your actions.”

Three words. Light as air. But I felt as if my chest was being crushed. I was weak, my legs couldn’t stand, and I collapsed onto the long chair in the hallway. Cold sweat was pouring down my face. Old images flashed through my mind: Ananya’s thin body, her six-month pregnant belly hidden under a large scarf, her eyes brimming with tears as she pleaded:

– Don’t go… It’s your baby…

But I ignored her. I chose the easy way out, turning away. I never asked her if she had given birth, if she could keep the baby, or how she was doing.

Now, she was saving my baby’s life – with the same trembling hands that had begged me years ago.

More than an hour later, the nurse came out smiling:
– Mother and baby are safe, you can come in and see her.

I breathed a sigh of relief and ran inside. My wife lay exhausted, her face pale, but her smile was shining:
– The baby looks exactly like you… one eyelid, tiny lips…

I shuddered and touched her cheek, but those three words still echoed in my mind.

I looked around to see Ananya, to apologize, but she had left her shift. Only one nurse looked at me and asked softly:

Do you know Dr. Ananya?

I remained silent.

The nurse sighed:

At first, she had a hard time handling the fetus, but the baby died right after birth… I heard it was due to fetal distress in the eighth month. She was desperate, but then she decided to continue her medical studies. She said: “If I can’t keep my own child, at least I have to save someone else’s.”

I was stunned.

It turned out that the child I had turned away from was the same child who hadn’t yet been born. And his mother—instead of being angry—chose the path of healing, so that today my child could be born.

That night, I held my baby in my arms, tears streaming down my face. Whenever I heard my baby cry, I remembered Ananya’s little baby, who hadn’t yet formed. Whenever my wife gently rocked the baby to sleep, I saw pain in his eyes, but also peace.

“Karma reaps rewards”—these three words weren’t a curse. It was the end. It was the end of the terrible past I had created. And I also want to remind myself: from now on, I must live a life of kindness, gratitude, and bear the consequences of my actions myself—even if it’s too late.

Part 2: A Reunion in Destiny
Three years have passed since my son’s birth. My family life has gradually stabilized. I work hard, spend a lot of time with my wife and children, and try to be a good husband and father. However, deep in my heart, Ananya’s three words, “Karma pays,” still resonate, like a warning I can never escape.

One rainy afternoon, my son, Aarav, suddenly developed a high fever and difficulty breathing. I panicked and, with my wife, rushed him to a children’s hospital in Delhi, where a team of respiratory specialists was present. When the doctor on duty in the emergency room came in, my heart felt like it was pounding out of my chest…

I was stunned.

It was Ananya. Still in her white blouse, still with her calm face, but now a little more mature and composed.

My son was rushed to the emergency room. Ananya didn’t even look at me, showing no emotion other than professionalism. She quickly checked his pulse, gave him oxygen, and ordered the nurse. I stood there, my heart pounding, worried for my son and the pain of facing the woman I had once known so closely.

After more than half an hour, Aarav’s condition stabilized. Seeing my son sleeping peacefully in his mother’s arms, I breathed a sigh of relief. Then Ananya turned to me.

– Do you still remember what I said that year? – Her voice was soft, but it made my throat clench.

I nodded, my eyes red:
– I remember. And for the past three years, I’ve never stopped thinking about it.

She looked at me for a moment, then smiled slightly, no longer as cold as before:
– Seeing you care for your wife and children like this, I feel… your actions have slowly paid off.

I was stunned. That statement felt like a release. No longer a stagnant sentence, but an acceptance that gave me the opportunity to start anew.

Before leaving, I mustered up the courage to call out:
– Ananya… I’m sorry. Although it’s late, I truly am sorry for everything.

She paused, didn’t turn around, and simply said softly:
– The past is behind you. Your job is to live well for the present and the future. Be a complete father. That’s the only way to make up for your mistakes.

Then she left the room, calm, as if an angel had come to save my child, and my soul.

That day, I stood for a long time by the hospital window, watching the white rain fall on the streets of Delhi, my heart filled with both sadness and gratitude. I understood that there was nothing left between Ananya and me to hold on to, but thanks to her, I had truly learned to be a father, to be a human being.

And from that moment on, I vowed to myself: I would never let my little son lack the love that Ananya had lost.