The Second Bloom • 18+

23. Leaving for home (Malini's POV)

Last night was good.

We slept the entire night in each other's arms like there was no tomorrow. We didn't make love. We just touched each other. Felt each other.

Currently, I am sitting in the corner of the room at my mayeka, staring at the faint moonlight filtering through the window. The house, once so familiar, felt different tonight—quieter, colder.

The bed, which had always felt so comforting, now seemed too large, too empty.

I had never thought I would miss my husband this much. Leaving him behind felt like a part of me had stayed with him.

The only thing revolving around my mind was — him.

His warmth, the way he held me close, the sound of his steady breathing as we slept side by side last night—it all felt like a lifetime away now.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to find comfort in my own embrace, but nothing compared to his.

It was strange. Before the wedding, I had never imagined feeling so attached to him. Ours was not a love that blossomed overnight, it took time, patience, and care, but now it was as if I couldn’t imagine my life without him.

I thought back to the moment we parted earlier in the day. Varun had accompanied me to the door, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back.

Neither of us had said much, but the silence between us was heavy, laden with unspoken emotions. He had looked at me with those deep eyes of his, the same eyes that once seemed so distant but now held warmth and understanding and lots of love. I could see that he didn’t want me to leave, and honestly, I didn’t want to go either.

But the time and tradition, both demanded it.

My mother-in-law had fussed over me as we prepared to leave, reminding me to rest and take care of myself during my stay. My husband, on the other hand, had remained quiet, his gaze never leaving mine as if he was trying to memorize every detail of my face before I left. When the time came to part, I had tried to be strong, to keep the tears at bay, but as soon as I stepped away from him, I felt the weight of the separation hit me.

Before moving out of the room, he had hugged me. So tightly. You know the most emotional part — he didn't let me see his tears, but I'm sure his eyes were red while he was holding me so close. He whispered in my ear that he loves me a lot. He touched my belly, kneeled down, and kissed my belly. He cupped my cheeks and whispered me to take care of myself and make sure I stay safe, otherwise no one would be worst than him if something happens to his wife.

I like how he has started acknowledging my child, as our child now. I like how he understands my feelings now. I like how he has started feeling like a to-be-father.

Then we had kissed. So deeply, passionately and I'm sure we both tasted my tears in our long kiss.

He took a promise from me to return back before Holi, which is in a few days. I gave him that promise, ofcourse, knowing full well that I myself wouldn't be able to live without him for so long.

Now, lying alone in my childhood bed, the reality of being apart from him for the first time since our marriage sank in. A lump formed in my throat, and I wondered if he missed me just as much. Was he thinking about me too? Was he lying awake in our bed, feeling the same emptiness that I felt?

I closed my eyes and pictured him—his broad shoulders, the way his hair always fell across his forehead, that soft smile he had started giving me when he thought I wasn’t looking. The memory brought a small smile to my lips, but it was quickly replaced by a deep ache. It was incredible how quickly he had become such an essential part of my life, and now, even a single night apart felt unbearable.