I looked at her, the woman who had once been my wife, who had left me in pain, and said something I myself didn’t expect:
“I’ll take you somewhere.”
“Where?” she asked, her voice still dreamy.
“To the Marriage Registration Office,” I replied with a smile.
Meera froze, staring at me for a long time. Her eyes reddened, but she didn’t ask any more questions, only nodded slightly.
The road to the Marriage Registration Office that day wasn’t long, but for me, it represented three years of misunderstanding, hurt, and silence. I wasn’t sure the future would be easier, nor could I promise that we wouldn’t argue anymore. But at least this time, I knew I wanted to hold her hand tighter and not let go out of fear again.
Some divorces aren’t because love has faded, but because neither party knows how to stay together. And sometimes, you have to go a long way to understand the simplest thing: a family doesn’t just need one person to earn money, but both need to come home together.
