Here After!

44. Drifting Shadows

The house felt different the moment Giri's mother left for Dubai. It wasn't just the absence of her presence—it was the absence of warmth, of familiarity, of something that held things together without them realizing it.

At first, both Giri and Anu assumed life would continue as usual. They had lived together for years now. They knew each other's habits, their routines were well set, and they had a rhythm in their daily lives. But soon, the silence became more noticeable.

Morning routines remained the same—Anu would wake up early, prepare breakfast, and Giri would get ready for work. But gone were the soft morning conversations, the casual teasing, or the affectionate glances across the dining table. Meals were now just meals. A necessity, not a shared moment.

At work, their lives remained unchanged. But at home, something had shifted. The conversations that once flowed naturally now felt forced, unnecessary. The air between them was thick with unspoken words, yet neither of them attempted to break it.

They still shared the same bed, but the way they laid next to each other changed. Once, Anu would curl into Giri's arms, finding comfort in his warmth. Now, she lay on her side, facing away. Giri, too, found himself retreating to his own space, staring at the ceiling instead of pulling her close. The distance between them wasn't measured in inches, but in emotions—feelings that were slowly slipping away.

Intimacy between them became something mechanical. There were no whispered words, no lingering touches—just a duty to be fulfilled, something that was expected rather than desired. And every time it happened, Anu felt a little more lost, a little more hollow inside.

She tried in small ways to bring back what they once had. She made his favorite meals, only to watch him eat in silence, scrolling through his phone. She tried to start conversations, only to receive absentminded nods or one-word replies. She reached for his hand one evening while watching TV, but he pulled away, pretending to adjust his position.

It wasn't just Giri—it was her too. Anu found herself withdrawing, becoming quieter, detaching from the man she once couldn't imagine living without. It was easier this way. Easier than fighting, easier than bringing up the inevitable topic of their childless marriage, easier than confronting the reality of their failing relationship.

The house, which had once been filled with laughter and playful banter, now felt like just four walls sheltering two people who were no longer in sync.

One evening, Anu sat at the dining table, watching Giri eat. His focus was on his phone, scrolling through messages. He didn't even glance up to see that she hadn't touched her food.

That was the moment it hit her.

This wasn't how love was supposed to be.

This wasn't the life she had dreamed of.

Something needed to change.

But the question was—did they even have the strength left to fix what was broken?

Days turned into weeks, and the distance between Anu and Giri only grew. The cracks in their relationship, once subtle, were now undeniable. Conversations were minimal, limited to the necessities—questions about dinner, reminders about bills, and occasional discussions about work. The love that once filled their home had now been replaced with a quiet, suffocating void.

Giri was spending more time at the office, sometimes coming home late, and sometimes choosing to work on weekends. Anu stopped waiting for him. She no longer asked when he would return, and no longer complained when he skipped meals at home. She had grown used to the loneliness, accepting it as a part of her life now.