Mridula’s POV
The laughter downstairs dripped like poison through the ceiling.
My sister’s voice is soft, high-pitched, the same one that used to call me akka......now carried a different tone: that of a bride being adored. Being loved...
Getting attention.
Samarth’s laughter followed, the same laughter that once made me blush. Now it made my stomach twist.
I stood in my room, pretending to fold clothes that didn’t need folding. The mirror caught my same eyes, same body, same scars under the smile and the one he humiliated.
And still, somehow, everyone called her the lucky one.
They were staying here for a week.. honeymoon, amma said, can wait. I almost laughed at that irony. Honeymoon at home, while I slept in the next room pretending not to exist.
A loud giggle came from the hall. I pressed my palms over my ears.
There is a knock on my door and I opened to see my mother standing.
She said " Chelli and Bava vacharu kindaki ra"
( Sister and brother in law have visited us, come down )
I looked at her and think how can she be this heartless and selfish.
She is not even caring what would I feel if I go down.
I said " I don't want to come Amma"
Then she glared at me and said " Paruvu tiyaka Mridula. Chelli Bartha ni inka preminchadaniki siggu ga ledha "
( Don't take our reputation Mridula. Don't you feel ashamed loving your own sister husband still)
My heart shattered listening to her words. Ashamed. Really.
I said " You know what I regret the most?"
She looked at me
And I continued " Being born in this family who don't care about their own daughter mental health. Ashamed Amma . You all should be ashamed not me."
Amma raised her hand to slap me but Dad came out of nowhere and caught her hand before it hits me.
Dad glared at me and said " Intha digajaripoyava Mridula ?"
( How can you stoop so low ?)
I mocking laughed at them and said " Dad I didn't stoop low it's you guys".
Dad said " Samarth don't like you what should we do in that?"
I said " I am not speaking about him. About you both.... atleast once did you ask how am I doing?... You both knew how much I loved him yet you didn't care always about sister because she is beautiful. Why? this discrimination between us"
I wipe my tears.
They were silent no words.
I said finally " I won't come down do whatever you want"
And shut the door.
I sat on the bean bag in the balcony and wiped my tears.
After few minutes, I came inside my room
And I heard loud laughs and talks of my mom, dad, sister and her husband.
They didn't care.
I close my ears with my hands to stop their noises.
I wanted silence. No — I wanted him.
The phone was on my bed.
The screen dark, but my pulse quickened anyway. It was past 11:45.
I scrolled through my chats... none from him since last night.
The ache of that small emptiness felt ridiculous, yet very real.
I typed before I could stop myself.
Mridula (11:46 PM):
Are you awake?
For a few seconds, nothing. I thought he slept.
Then the three dots.
Ranvijay (11:50 PM):
Always. Did you miss me, sea girl?
My breath caught at that nickname.
I smiled into the dark.
Mridula:
Maybe. Or maybe I just needed to hear something that doesn’t hurt.
Ranvijay:
Then you came to the right person.
Mridula:
You sound confident.
Ranvijay:
I’m a father, confidence is the only thing keeping me alive after chasing a toddler with crayons all day.
I laughed out loud, a small sound that felt like a sin in this quiet house.
Mridula:
So the little one is artistic?
Ranvijay:
If painting walls, bedsheets, and my laptop counts, then yes. Picasso in diapers.
Mridula:
You sound like you love him a lot.
Ranvijay:
He’s the only thing that keeps my world real. He doesn’t know pain or judgment yet. Just pure chaos and affection. He is my whole world.
Mridula:
That’s… beautiful.
I think he is not married then who is the child and why does he love so much...
I wanted to ask but for now I wanted to keep our conversation slow.
May be he will open up once we reach that comfort level.
What if the little one is?
MRIDULA....stop overthinking - My brain mocked me
Ranvijay:
You should see him. His curls stick out in every direction. Like a storm I can’t control.
I imagined him ....sitting there, phone in one hand, a sleepy child sprawled against his chest. The image warmed me in a way it shouldn’t have.
Mridula:
You sound tired.
Ranvijay:
You sound sad.
Mridula:
Maybe both are true.
There was a pause. I could almost feel his silence....soft, attentive.
Ranvijay:
Rough day?
Mridula:
My sister and her husband came home.
Ranvijay:
Ah. So what?
Mridula:
I told about the man right. He is my sister's husband.
Ranvijay:
Oh I see
Mridula:
They laughed. A lot.
Ranvijay:
You wanted to scream, didn’t you?
Mridula:
No. I wanted to disappear.
Another pause. Then my phone lit up...
Incoming Call: Ranvijay.
I hesitated a heartbeat before answering.
"Hello?" My voice came out quieter than I intended.
His voice wrapped around me like warmth in cold water.
"I knew you’d sound like this," he murmured. "Like you’re holding your breath."
I lay back against the bed, eyes closed. "I just… don’t know how to exist around them."
He didn’t interrupt. He just listened.
So I spoke.... about the wedding, the humiliation, my mother’s harsh words, my father’s silence. What happened before I called him....Words I’d buried beneath my saree pleats spilled out freely tonight.
At some point, I realized I was crying softly.
"I shouldn’t be crying again,"
I whispered.
"You should," he said.
"It’s your heart unclenching. Don’t stop it."
Silence lingered, heavy and intimate. Only the soft static of our breaths filled the line.
Then he said quietly, "You know what I wish right now?"
"What?" I asked.
"That I could sit beside you… not to fix you, but to make sure you never think you’re the problem again."
My throat tightened. "You shouldn’t say things like that."
"Why?"
"Because I’ll believe them," I said, half laughing, half crying.
He exhaled, and I could hear his smile. "Then believe them, Mridula."
My heart was beating faster now...not from sadness, but something else. Something that curled low in my stomach.
He had this way of speaking ...not dirty, not direct... but intimate in every word.
Like he knew how to undress a wound, not a body.
"I can almost see you," he murmured suddenly.
My pulse jumped. "What do you mean?"
"You’re sitting on your bed, right? Saree a little wrinkled, hair messy, your hand probably holding the phone too tight."
He paused.
"And you’re biting your lip. You do that when you’re nervous, don’t you?"
I froze. "How do you—?"
He chuckled softly. "I can hear it."
My breath hitched. "You shouldn’t say things like that."
"Why not?"
"Because…" I swallowed. "Because you’ll make me forget that we’re strangers."
He went quiet for a second.
"Do you want to remember that? I already started considering you as my Sea Girl..."
I didn’t answer. My silence was answer enough.
The line hummed with tension....not loud, not vulgar..... just alive.
His voice dropped, low and almost a whisper.
"Mridula…"
"Hm?" I said
"You sound beautiful when you breathe."
The words brushed through me like wind through silk. My eyes fluttered closed, and I leaned back against the pillow, letting the sound of his voice replace everything else... the laughter downstairs, the ache, the shame.
Nothing mattered to me anymore this minute.
He didn’t cross a line, but he walked right next to it. And I didn’t stop him.
We didn’t talk for a while. The silence was charged... every breath, every tiny sound from his end felt intimate.
I laughed a little low at how quickly he healed me.
Then he said softly, "Are you smiling?"
"Yes."
"Good," he whispered.
He said again "That’s how I want to end this night...with you smiling."
I chuckled faintly. "And what about you?"
"I’ll sleep better now, because I spoke with you and my little one already slept..." he said.
"The storm inside feels quieter" he said
"Then good night, Ranvijay."
" Good night, sea girl. Don’t let anyone drown your softness again. Especially your smile"
The line went quiet again, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that felt like sharing...like both of them were watching the same invisible thing pass between them.
After a long while, he whispered, "You should sleep."
"You first," I echoed.
He laughed. "We’ve come full circle."
"Looks like it."
But we both didn't hang up.
The sound of his breathing faded into a softer rhythm. I listened, half-expecting him to fall asleep mid-call.
I almost did sleep myself, until I heard him whisper, not sure if he knew the line was still open..
“Goodnight, Mridula.” he said again the second time.
I smiled into the dark. “Goodnight, stranger Man.”
Ranvijay said " um still stranger Sea girl so bad"
I giggled low and said " Mr.Poet okay?"
He hummed.
I said " Bye"
The call ended, but the warmth didn’t.
I lay there, phone on my chest, my pulse racing.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t crying because I was broken.
I was trembling because someone, somewhere, had seen me whole.
He made me smile with a few words.
Who are you Ranvijay?
You are making my heart race...with your words only.
I hope you feel the same as me Mr. poet.
I looked at the blank phone and pecked the phone screen as I felt I was kissing him.
I said " Take care Ranvijay to a blank phone".
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