Bani, never a fan of tea, opted for coffee instead. The bitterness of the brew spread across her tongue, grounding her thoughts. She wrapped her fingers around the cup, letting the heat seep into her cold palms.
For a moment, the world stood still. No debts, no struggles—just the comforting rhythm of sips and silence.
Then, as the last drops disappeared from their cups, her father exhaled deeply and turned towards the truck. "Let's get moving."
Bani placed her empty cup on the counter, stealing one last glance at the rising sun. A new day had begun.
The journey back home was long and exhausting. The streets were eerily quiet, bathed in the dim glow of streetlights, and the air carried the crispness of early morning. By the time they finally reached home, the clock had already crossed four.
Without exchanging a word, the three dragged themselves inside, their bodies heavy with fatigue. The comfort of their beds called to them like a long-lost embrace. Shoes were kicked off lazily, bags abandoned in the corner, and without bothering to change, they collapsed onto their respective beds.
The world outside continued its slow transition from night to dawn, but inside, exhaustion reigned. Within moments, the house was filled with the soft rhythm of steady breathing—proof that sleep had claimed them at last.
And for now, that was all that mattered.
After some rest Bani's father and brother went to hotel.
Bani stared at her phone screen, the address of the lawyer's office glowing faintly in the dim morning light. She had received it last night and forwarded it to Piyush without a second thought. There was no need for a conversation—just an unspoken agreement to meet, sign, and walk away.
She had booked an Uber to take her there. The morning air felt cool, but inside, she was numb. It wasn't sadness, nor relief—just a quiet acceptance of the inevitable. The past few months had already drained her of any lingering emotions toward this marriage. This meeting was just a formality, the final step before they both became free again.
As the car moved through the streets, Bani watched the city pass by, her mind lost in scattered thoughts. It felt surreal. How many times had she imagined this day? Would it feel different if there had been screaming, accusations, or tears? Maybe. But this wasn't a dramatic end—just two people acknowledging that they had failed together.
The lawyer's office was in a modest building, tucked away in a quieter part of the city. She stepped out of the car and took a deep breath. Piyush was already there, waiting by the entrance. He looked the same—calm, composed, with that familiar indifference in his eyes. They exchanged a brief nod. No words were necessary.
Inside, the office smelled of paper and ink, a strangely fitting scent for closing a chapter of life. The lawyer, a middle-aged man with a professional but neutral expression, gestured for them to sit. Started to talk