Vivian approached me, his steps deliberate and heavy, and said in a cold, dark tone, "Are you planning to put on this drama in front of the whole world too?"
Confused and a bit startled, I asked, "What drama?"
Vivian pointed at my mangalsutra, his e...
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It was midnight, and the room was unusually still, but my mind was restless. I had been sitting on the bed for the past two hours, mindlessly playing games on my phone, trying to distract myself. But no distraction was enough-not tonight.
"Lucy, just leave the shirt on the couch," I had said absentmindedly earlier when she'd come in with the dinner trolley. She was about to put away one of Vivian's shirts in the closet, but I stopped her. I needed something of his near me, even if it was just a piece of clothing. She did as I asked, leaving the shirt folded neatly on the couch.
"What's for dinner, Lucy?" I asked, still glued to the game on my phone.
"Soup, salad, and biryani, ma'am," she replied.
I made a face at that. "Tell the chef to make me some aloo parathas instead."
"Ma'am, sir gave specific instructions for your diet. This is what he recommended."
I paused, surprised. He gave a diet list?
"Yeah, ma'am."
"Of course, he did," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Just great. Even when he's not here, he's controlling my meals." Still grumbling, I got up from the bed and begrudgingly pulled the tray closer to start eating. The food tasted bland, just like my mood.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
I tossed and turned in bed, the clock ticking past two in the morning. Sleep? It was nowhere near my eyes tonight-just like Vivian, who was miles away from me. The room was dimly lit, the canopy bed's curtains drawn, casting soft shadows across the room. Darkness never comforted me; in fact, I feared it. I needed the warmth, the protection, the presence of him beside me. But tonight, there was nothing but the silence and the hollow ache of his absence.
I lay there, staring blankly at his side of the bed-the place where he would usually pull me into his arms, holding me close. Without him, that side of the bed felt cold, empty, and the distance between us seemed unbearable.
Vivian.
His name was imprinted on my soul, wrapped around every thought I had, every breath I took. He was no longer just a person; he was a part of me.
A lump formed in my throat, and before I knew it, tears started to stream down my face, soft sobs escaping my lips. My fingers reached out, tracing the cool sheets where he should have been, the absence of his warmth making my heart ache even more.
"I... I miss you, Vivian," I whispered, my voice breaking as I reached out, my fingers lightly touching the cold, empty space on his side of the bed. I closed my eyes, wishing-desperately-that he was here, holding me, making me feel safe like he always did.
But he wasn't, and that hurt more than anything.
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