ℂ𝕆ℂ𝕂𝕋𝔸𝕀𝕃𝕊 𝕎𝕀𝕋ℍ ℂ𝕌ℙ𝕀𝔻

𝟳𝟭: 𝗕𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗖𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗱

>>>>–––– 💘 ––––<<<<

The phone pressed against her ear felt unusually warm, but Ananya made no effort to shift it. She sat at the edge of her bed, legs pulled up, toes resting on the edge of the cushioned frame. Outside the window, the sun hung low and golden, dipping slowly behind the trees. Her voice, however, felt stuck in a middle tone—neither light nor heavy, just floating in that in-between space where she herself didn't know what she felt.

So yeah...

she murmured finally, after narrating everything.

Avane da yella arrangements uhm pannan. The attorney, documents... lawyer kitta kuda avane pesunan, to make sure I wouldn't be uncomfortable. He said everything I might have had to say, before I even opened my mouth.

(He made all the arrangements. The attorney, the documents... He even spoke to the lawyer to make sure I wouldn't be uncomfortable. He said everything I might have had to say, before I even opened my mouth.)

There was a pause before Anjali responded,

Appo sounds like he made it easy for you. That's... actually really nice of him. Oruvela, he wants this just as much as you do?

(Sounds like he made it easy for you. That's... actually really nice of him. Maybe he wants this just as much as you do?)

Ananya blinked at the ceiling. The words rang oddly in her ears.

He wants this just as much as you do.

That should've sounded right. It should've fit neatly into the puzzle of emotions she'd been telling herself all these months. But for some reason... it didn't. Her lips parted to say something—anything—but no sound came.

Anjali seemed to sense the pause.

Ananya?

she asked gently.

But Ananya only let out a vague

Hmm?

before silence took over again.

Truth be told, she wasn't sure anymore.

A few months ago, she would've confidently said she wanted this. This whole thing—the marriage, the mess, the emotional rollercoaster—it wasn't something she had chosen for herself. It was something she had endured, borne with grace, because she was told it would last just one year. One year and she'd be free. One year and she could go back to being herself.

But now, standing at the very edge of that promised freedom, she felt no rush to jump.

She didn't even know what it was exactly. Just that the silence in the car after the attorney visit had felt heavier than usual. Like something had been pulled away too soon. Like the conversation had taken something from her she hadn't been ready to give up yet.

And Avi...

The way he'd looked at her. The way he hadn't argued, hadn't mocked, hadn't even asked her to justify her silence. He had just... let it happen. All of it. For her.

Anjali cleared her throat softly, breaking her out of her daze.

Well... anyway

she said, switching tones.

Maybe nee aduthu yenna panna porae yosika start panlamlae? After the divorce. Yengayavadhu transfer ku try panna? Better work, better life?

(Maybe it's time to think about what comes next? What you wanna do after the divorce. Like, transfer somewhere abroad? Better work, better life?)