In life, there are moments when you're stuck, unsure of what to do. So, you choose to do nothing. But by the time you realize action is needed, the situation has spiraled out of control. Left with no choice, you learn to live with it. Even when a chance arises to change things or turn them in your favor, you hold back—afraid that taking action might disrupt the fragile peace or the flow of events.

I am making tea in the kitchen, but I can still hear the laughter of two people—my son and my husband. The word "husband" still feels foreign to me. Kabir Sharma, my husband, used to be my best friend—the person I shared everything with, my safe place. But now, I feel nothing. We've been married for two years. He’s a good man, a good husband, and a wonderful father. But he can never be the friend he once was.

I still remember the circumstances under which we got married. I begged him not to marry me. I cried, screamed, and pleaded, but it was like he didn’t hear me. My words fell on deaf ears. He just did what he thought was right, what he believed was best for his future. But if he had truly thought about my future—about me—he wouldn’t have done what he did to me.

I was lost in my thoughts when I suddenly felt a presence behind me. As I turned, I saw my husband holding Ayush, our son, who rested his head on Kabir’s chest, looking at me with doe-like eyes. Ayush had inherited almost everything from his father—his face, his nose. The only thing he got from me was his eyes.

“Parvati,” I heard him call my name. It still felt odd hearing him say it.

“Ha?” I replied.

“I’ve already fed him and changed his clothes. He’s feeling sleepy now, so can you put him to bed? I need to leave for the office,” he said, his eyes fixed on Ayush, never meeting mine.

He handed Ayush to me, briefly glancing at his watch—he was probably running late again. After kissing Ayush on the cheek, he left. In the entire exchange, he didn’t once look at me or say goodbye, like he used to. Maybe he’s tired of me. Maybe he stopped because I never respond to his greetings.

As I heard the door close behind him, I took a deep breath and glanced around the house. Alone again. This is my life.