As Abhimaan helped her with the after-birth diaper, she whispered, “Maan… can I ask you one favor?” He looked confused. “What is it?” She looked down, her voice shaking with pain and tears. “This thought has been in my mind since the day I ran from that house. Every time I saw you with the baby, with me… I kept asking myself this question…” Abhimaan held her hands. “Say it, Gaurii.” She broke down, hugging him. “In our society, children are known by their father’s surname. Single mothers like me are judged so badly that people even call them …” Before she could finish, Abhimaan cut her off softly, “Shh… don’t think like that.” She cried harder, clutching his shirt. “Will you give her your name? Will you give me your name… without marriage? I can’t give you anything in return, Maan, but please… I’m begging you. I don’t want anyone to ever call my baby fatherless.” Abhimaan hugged her tightly. His voice trembled.“No. Never. She is my daughter. And you are my partner. In the world’s eyes, you are my wife. In my eyes, you and I are best friends. And husband and wife are also best friends—a team. We may not be married, but we are a team who will live for each other and for our baby.”