A/N: Just a couple advancements on the deleted scenes, as well as some fill-ins for the first couple years of the ten year gap.

It had been a little over a year since Rahul and Anjali had left the Raichand home. Rahul had gotten a wonderful job, and was already making more than most people would in the first 10 years of their career.

They had been living in a large flat of sorts for that year, but Rahul had decided they needed more room Especially considering that Anjali was now pregnant.

Newly pregnant, but in 9 months, they were going to have a child. And Rahul couldn't have been happier.

Rahul turned back to look at his wife, as they entered their new home. The expression of happiness on her face was unmatchable, though the intense way she had jumped into the arms earlier should have alerted him to that fact.

Suddenly, Anjali pulled herself into Rahul's arms, pressing herself into his chest. "Chalo."

Rahul smiled, tightening his grip around her waist as he led her through the house.

Ten steps in, Rahul realized they had forgotten something.

"Pooja, Daijaan!"

The two walked in through the door, snickering, but soon sobered as they took in the house. "Wow."

Rahul looked back at Pooja, a smile wide on his face. "Go choose a room."

Anjali buried further into Rahul. "I love you." She whispered into his chest.

Rahul kissed her forehead, trying to stop the tears. "I love you too."

He took another breath then smiled. "Let's start our new life."

Rahul lay in Anjali's lap when they were, by chance, home alone that day.

He would continuously turn to kiss the stomach, which was getting bigger by the day.

They had found out they were having a boy, and the nursery was covered in all things blue. Daijaan had found time to knit a blanket, and Pooja had wanted to be in charge of decorating.

Anjali was happy that Pooja hadn't changed much yet since the move. They were both still small town girls, no matter what they did.

No matter where they went.

Anjali looked down at her husband, who was animatedly talking about his annoying coworkers, who refused to accept that he was higher in rank than they were.

"I want cake."

Rahul looked up at his wife. "What flavor do you want today?" He smiled at her, love the only expression on his face. He wasn't fed up, he wasn't irritated by her demands, he was simply in love.

"Red velvet."

Rahul smiled, getting up, until he was lightly pulled back by Anjali. Their faces were level. "I love you."

Anjali leaned in and pecked Rahul on the lips. "I love you too."

Rahul grinned widely, slightly unable to breathe, and walked towards the kitchen, where the refrigerator contained half of a red velvet cake.

The past weekend, the entire family had pitched in to back about 4 different cakes, each a different flavor, in an effort to prevent grocery runs when Anjali's cravings hit. Because they would hit.

They amplified Anjali's intense feelings and filter-less mouth to an extent that Rahul had learned right away not to argue.

Right away.

Rahul walked back with the cake, stealing a quick bite before Anjali finished the slice off. Handing it to her, he resettled himself in her lap, only to be shoved aside and see the plate with the cake take his place.

He sat up next to her and lay his head on her shoulder, threading his hands through her one free hand.

Anjali looked at him, much calmer having the cake near her. She rested her head on his head, giving his hair a kiss.

After about 30 seconds in this position, Anjali spoke up. "Can I eat my cake now?"

Krish babbled in bed next to his father, who had gotten swabs stuck in his ear, as his mother was downstairs, singing as usual.

Rahul looked at his son, taking out the earplugs. He lifted Krish into his lap, making silly faces.

"I know I said your mother is a great singer." He looked fearfully at the door. "And she is." He added for Anjali's benefit in case she was listening, because if she chose to, she would hear him. She always did.

"But this is too much. Way too much." He nuzzled his son's nose, pulling him into a hug.

Rahul threw Krish into the air slightly, catching him, causing the toddler to laugh with delight. "Papa!"

Anjali was standing at the door of their bedroom, watching the scene.

As soon as she had stopped singing, she had gone to the door, to stumble upon this scene.

Her heart filled with warmth and love, gazing upon her husband, who had given up everything for her, and her son, who was everything they had earned.

Rahul sensed the exact second that Anjali stepped into the room. He sent her a look, which prompted her to walk quicker towards the bed, towards her family. Towards her home.

When Anjali climbed into bed, Krish turned to her. "Mama."

Rahul passed Krish off into Anjali's arms, which were wide open, waiting for her son.

Once Krish as situated in her lap, playing with her hair, Rahul moved behind her, resting himself against the headboard, and Anjali in front of him. He wrapped his arms around Anjali's waist, placing his lips on her neck.

Anjali shrugged her shoulders up, trying to avoid it, because she was immensely ticklish. And there was a toddler in her lap, so no matter where Rahul intended to take the altercation, it wasn't going to go anywhere.

Rahul stopped his ministrations, but refused to let go of Anjali. He kissed the hair on the side of her head, something that had made her melt with love since they went to the fair, 3 years ago.

For Anjali, he had been someone different, someone who didn't care about her status, her lack of wealth. He had eyes just for her.

He didn't mind the words that came out of her mouth, or her loud manner, he loved her for her.

Anjali though, couldn't help but feel guilty about everything that had happened up until that point. She had been the reason that Rahul had been disowned, the reason that Rahul had to leave his family. The reason that Rahul had to leave his mother, the woman he loved most in the world.

Rahul squeezed Anjali tighter, nuzzling his nose into her shoulder. She felt a drop of his tears fall on her shoulder. "It's not your fault."

Anjali turned her head and laid a kiss on Rahul's cheek. She turned back to her son, resting her head slightly on Rahul's. "I love you."

"I love you too."

They sat like that for a while, watching their son play with his toys and babble on at them.

Until Pooja woke up, blasting music from her newly acquired collection of English music.

And Krish began crying. And so was another day in the Raichand household.

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