The bed felt strangely empty when my eyes opened in the quiet darkness. His warmth still lingered on the sheets, but he was gone. The mangalsutra rested heavy between my breasts, sindoor vivid in my hair like a fresh claim. I slipped on his white shirt, the fabric loose over my naked body, and followed the low sound drifting through the open window.
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Where your desires meet my words I don’t chase destiny—I rewrite it in my name.
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