A love Rekindled

Meera stood alone in the dim light of their bedroom, the shadows stretching out like the unspoken words between them.

"Late again," she said softly, a tremor threading through her voice. She tried to sound steady, tried to mask the ache clawing at her heart.

Without a word, he loosened his tie and threw it onto the chair. She waited for him to say something-anything-but the silence was like a weight pressing down, stealing the air from the room.

"Aarav...," she whispered, taking a step forward. "I... I can't keep doing this."

He looked up then, his eyes sharp, almost annoyed. "Doing what, Meera?" His voice was calm, too calm, like he was talking to a stranger.

"This...this emptiness," she replied, her voice cracking. "Every day, you walk in and act as if I don't exist. Like I'm... nothing."

He sighed, his expression darkening. "I told you before. I never wanted this."

The words stung, sharper than a blade, but she forced herself to look at him, forced herself to speak. "But I did. I wanted us, Aarav. I wanted us to mean something. And all I ever asked was that you-"

"Enough," he cut her off, his voice cold and dismissive. "I don't have the patience for this."

Her heart twisted painfully, but she bit back the tears. "One day, Aarav, you're going to regret this. You'll look back and realize how much you hurt me-how much you pushed me away. And when you do..." She trailed off, her words heavy with unspoken pain.

"When I do, what, Meera?" he asked, almost mocking. "You think you'll walk out, leave all of this behind?"

She swallowed, her lips trembling. "Maybe I will."