Chapter 13: Saraswati's Fear
The night felt eerily quiet. Only the sound of nocturnal insects and the gentle rustling of the wind could be heard outside Saraswati's house. She sat at the edge of her bed, staring at the ceiling with vacant eyes. Her mind was still filled with Boase's words from the previous night.
"I like you, Saraswati." That sentence kept echoing in her head, like a soft whisper she couldn't ignore.
Saraswati bit her lip. The turmoil in her heart was confusing. How could she feel comfortable with Boase? How could her heart flutter at the sound of his voice? She shook her head, trying to push away the guilt that slowly crept into her soul.
"Arman..." she whispered softly, almost like a prayer lost in the silence. "Forgive me..."
She turned her gaze to a framed photo of her late husband on the small table beside her bed. Arman's face smiled warmly within the wooden frame, as if he was still there, faithfully accompanying her despite being gone. Tears welled up in Saraswati's eyes. She missed her husband. She missed him terribly. But why was there now someone else who made her feel alive again? Was this a betrayal?
Memories of Arman flooded her mind. The nights they sat together on the terrace, sharing stories about their days, laughing as Amara ran around the yard. The memories felt so real, as if she could reach out and grasp them if she closed her eyes long enough. But when she opened her eyes again, all that remained was emptiness and an unrelenting sense of loss.
The thought made her chest tighten. Saraswati took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. If it were only about her own feelings, maybe she could ignore them. But there was so much more to consider.
What would her mother-in-law say if she found out Saraswati was beginning to open her heart to another man? That woman had been cold enough as it was, despite Saraswati's efforts to keep her distance from the rumors circulating in their community.
"You're still young. I know that someday you will find a replacement for my son. But at least... not too soon," her mother-in-law's words echoed in her mind. Cold and piercing. As if finding new happiness meant betraying Arman.
And what about the neighbors? They had already gossiped enough about her. A widow struggling to survive alone often became the topic of conversation. Saraswati knew there were many eyes watching her. Many ears waiting for something to turn into gossip. If they knew a man had started getting close to her, the whispers would turn into outright scorn.
"Look at her, not long after losing her husband, and now she's already getting close to another man."
"I knew it. Of course, she'd find a new man."
"Poor child, it'll be hard for her if her mother remarries."
Just imagining it made her head ache. Those words felt like arrows piercing her heart. She wanted to defend herself, wanted to scream that none of it was true. But the harsh reality was that they would always talk. No matter what she did, they would always have something to say.
Saraswati rose from her bed, walked to the window, and stared at the dark sky. The night breeze caressed her face, bringing a slight relief to the pain she felt. Her heart was exhausted. She wanted to escape from all of this. From her fears, from the judgment of others, from the shadows of the past that continued to haunt her.
Yet, beneath all that fear, there was something else—something warm, something that had begun to grow inside her.
Boase.
He was a good man. A man who never pressured her to accept his feelings. Boase demanded nothing from her, only offering his presence. Offering a sense of comfort that had been missing from her life for so long. But did she dare to accept it? Did she dare give herself a chance to feel happiness again?
Saraswati recalled her conversation with Boase a few weeks ago, before he confessed his feelings. They had sat together in a small café after a school event, talking about trivial things. Boase spoke about his family, about how he had always wanted a home filled with warmth. He also talked about his dreams, about how he wanted to live a simple yet meaningful life. At that time, Saraswati had only listened, enjoying the way he spoke so sincerely. She hadn't realized that, at that very moment, her heart had started to open little by little.
But why had Boase entered her life so easily? Was her feeling for him merely a reflection of her deep loneliness? Or was she truly developing genuine emotions for him? That question haunted her, creeping into her thoughts with endless doubt.
She remembered the way Boase looked at her that night. There was sincerity in his eyes. No coercion, no pressure—just a genuine confession from someone who wanted to be by her side. Saraswati let out a long sigh. She knew Boase was not a threat. But would the world see him that way?
Saraswati closed her eyes, trying to hear her own heart amidst the chaos of her mind. She knew she had to make a decision. But tonight, she still wasn't ready.
In the silence of the night, a faint cry echoed from the next room. Saraswati gasped, quickly rising from her seat and heading to Amara's room. The little girl was sobbing in her sleep, her face looking troubled.
"Amara... sweetheart, did you have a bad dream?" Saraswati asked softly, gently stroking her daughter's hair.
Amara nodded slightly, opening her teary eyes. "I dreamed that Daddy went far away and couldn't come back... I'm scared, Mom. I don't want Daddy to be gone forever."
Saraswati's heart clenched. She pulled her daughter into her embrace, letting the little girl cry on her shoulder. "Daddy will always be in our hearts, sweetheart. He will never truly be gone."
Amara hugged her tightly, seeking comfort in her mother's arms. In that small embrace, Saraswati realized one undeniable truth—no matter what happened, Amara was her priority. No matter how much turmoil was inside her, her daughter's happiness came first.
She let her tears fall slowly, allowing all her emotions to flow out. Tomorrow, perhaps she would be stronger. Tomorrow, maybe she would find her answer.
But for tonight, she just wanted to feel the sadness she wasn't ready to let go of.