"You've both agreed to a mutual divorce, correct?" he asked, flipping through the documents.
"Yes," Bani answered first.
Piyush echoed her. "Yes."
The lawyer nodded, adjusting his glasses. "Since this is mutual, things will be straightforward. I'll go through the legal formalities, and then you'll need to sign. After submission, there will be a waiting period, but that's just part of the process."
Bani listened, but her mind drifted. It was strange, how an entire marriage could be reduced to paperwork. The lawyer read out their agreement—division of assets, no financial disputes, no claims from either side. Everything was already settled. They had made sure of that before coming here.
Finally, the lawyer handed them the documents. "Sign here," he said, pointing to the designated spaces.
Bani picked up the pen. Her fingers trembled slightly, but she pressed the tip to the paper and wrote her name. A part of her wondered if she should feel something more—grief, hesitation, regret. But as the ink dried, all she felt was a quiet finality.
Piyush signed next, just as composed.
The lawyer collected the papers. "That's it for today. Once this is processed, the court will issue a final decree after the stipulated period. You'll both be notified."
Bani nodded. It was done.
Then ahe paid fees left for seeds market.
As Bani settled into her bus seat, the familiar hum of the vehicle and the rhythmic sway soothed her.
Nestled safely in her bag were two packets of seeds—Jasmine and Chrysanthemum. Which he perchased today
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and focused her thoughts inward. The magical space, always connected to her, responded instantly. In her mind, she pictured the seeds appearing in the space, carried by an unseen force.
"Grow them separately," she instructed. "Give them the best conditions."
In an instant, the seeds vanished from her bag. Inside the space, two fresh plots of land materialized—one bathed in soft golden light, meant for the Chrysanthemums, and the other wrapped in a gentle mist, perfect for Jasmine. The earth stirred as the seeds settled into place, taking root in the space's fertile soil.
Bani opened her eyes, her heart calm. She didn't need to be physically present to nurture them; the space would ensure their growth, responding to her will. It was a power she was still learning to wield, but every new addition made the space feel more like home.
As the bus rumbled forward, she let her thoughts drift. Jasmine, with its delicate fragrance, reminded her of quiet nights and soft breezes. Chrysanthemums, bold and vibrant, symbolized endurance. Both flowers carried meanings one couldn't ignore.
Bani reached home, had dinner, and spent some time scrolling through her phone. It had become a small ritual—her way of unwinding after a long day. The house was quiet, the occasional creak of the ceiling fan breaking the silence. After a while, she put her phone aside and went to bed.
Aman also returned home earlier than usual. He needed to wake up early the next morning to accompany Bani to the flower market.