"I am so sorry, Ambika," Rudraksha choked out, his voice thick with emotion. With trembling hands, he withdrew, his eyes downcast as if he could not bear to meet her gaze. "I... You don't deserve this," he continued, his words laced with anguish. "Y...
Ambika sits on the couch in their cozy apartment, the room well-organized and bathed in sunlight. The ambiance is serene, with a gentle breeze filtering through the open windows. The sound of distant traffic hums softly in the background. Ambika appears calm and composed, her gaze fixed on the door, awaiting Rudra's return. The balcony, visible through the sheer curtains, displays neatly washed and hung clothes, a testament to Ambika's diligent care. The aroma of freshly cooked lunch fills the air, tantalizing the senses.
Ambika adjusts the cushion beside her, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns on its fabric. She glances at the clock on the wall, noting the time with a hint of anticipation. With a soft sigh, she leans back against the cushions, her thoughts drifting momentarily as she waits.
Ambika's heart fluttered with uncertainty as she glanced once more towards the door, her mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. The fear of Rudra's unpredictable moods held her captive, leaving her hesitant to voice her concerns. Despite the gnawing hunger in her stomach, she resolved to wait, choosing to endure the discomfort rather than risk provoking his anger.
With each passing minute, her anxiety grew, a knot forming in her chest as she wrestled with her inner turmoil. She busied herself with trivial tasks, rearranging a stack of books on the nearby shelf, her hands trembling slightly with nervous energy. The aroma of the untouched lunch lingered in the air, a poignant reminder of her silent vigil.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly, the minutes ticking by like hours, but still, there was no sign of Rudra. Doubt crept into Minakshi's mind, whispering cruelly of abandonment. Yet, she clung to a glimmer of hope, refusing to succumb to despair.
Soon a text came in her message box she picked up the phone and found out it was Rudra.
Rudra: I hope you have done your lunch, if not ask Garima to make something for you.
She quickly typed back.
Ambika: I haven't done my lunch, I am waiting for you to come home and have lunch. I have prepared lunch for both of us.
Ambika's heart pounded with uncertainty as she stared at her phone, willing it to light up with a message from Rudra. But as minutes turned into an agonizing silence, the absence of a response weighed heavily on her mind.
Her resolve wavered, the fear of rejection and confrontation paralyzing her. She paced the room, her footsteps echoing in the empty space, each moment stretching into an eternity.
With a shaky breath, Ambika finally mustered the courage to dial Rudra's number. Her hand trembled as she held the phone to her ear, the sound of each ring reverberating in the quiet room.
As the call rang on, Ambika's anxiety heightened, her thoughts swirling with doubt and apprehension. Would he pick up? Would he be angry with her for calling?
But then, just as doubt threatened to consume her, a click echoed through the line, and Rudra's voice filled her ears.
"Ambika?" His voice was a mix of surprise and concern.
Ambika swallowed hard, her throat dry with nervousness. "Rudra, I... I was just wondering when you'll be back for lunch. I've prepared it for both of us."
There was a brief pause, followed by a sigh on the other end of the line. "I have already done my lunch, You have yours and take rest, don't wait for me from now on." He said and cut the call.
Ambika's heart sank at the news, disappointment washing over her like a tidal wave. How can you say that I shouldn't wait for you? I am your wife....
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