Lathika spent the rest of her afternoon tidying up her already spotless apartment, rearranging the living room, changing the curtains, swapping the bedspreads, and even fluffing the cushions. She didn't know why she felt the need to keep herself so busy, but after days of lethargy—where the most strenuous thing she had done was cook herself a meal—she felt the need to act like she was being productive. The rhythmic movement of folding and re-folding linens had a strange calming effect on her.

After another long, steaming shower, she plopped down onto her bed. "Ah... feels great to lay on a freshly changed bedsheet," she exclaimed with a contented sigh. She stretched out, rolling from side to side like she was making a snow angel, feeling the cool fabric against her skin.

For a moment, she closed her eyes, letting the calmness wash over her. No frantic thoughts, no chaos—just peace. It was the first time in days that her mind wasn't racing. It must have been the kind of rest she had been needing for so long.

But before she could fully sink into it, she was jolted awake. The dark room hit her like a reality check, and she shot up, switching on the bedside lamp. The clock on the wall blinked at her—9:30 p.m.

"Gosh," she gasped, letting out a little laugh. "That was one nice, long sleep." She stretched her arms over her head and sat up, her eyes still adjusting to the dim light.

She couldn't remember the last time she had a good sleep. And it was well-deserved. Lathika knew that she was finally starting to see a glimmer of light in her life. It wasn't much, but it was something. The thought of Prashanth helping her with clients—and more importantly, offering support in a way she hadn't expected—was giving her a real sense of hope.

As she looked around her small apartment, her thoughts wandered to the plan they had made. She wasn't waiting for Prashanth's grandmother to hand over the inheritance anymore. Prashanth had opened doors for her, and if she could secure even one big client, she'd have enough to keep her business afloat for a month. After that, once they tell their families about them, they could move forward. She had have enough to keep her venture alive and rolling. The future didn't seem so bleak anymore.

"The potential that came with the marriage is almost hilarious," Lathika muttered to herself with a small chuckle. "And all these effort didn't seem to work when I  tried," she said in mock disbelief. 

But despite her sarcasm, she realized it was the truth. Nothing else had worked before, so why not try this? 

Lathika dragged herself to the kitchen, her stomach reminding her it had been hours since lunch. She grabbed a pan, cracked an egg, and began frying it. Then, she buttered two slices of bread and toasted them, preparing a simple, humble dinner. There was something satisfying about the simplicity of it all—no frills, no fuss.

While she worked, her thoughts drifted back to the plan she and Prashanth had made. They were supposed to tell their families that they had met in Chennai, gotten to know each other, and fallen in love. She thought about it for a moment—then another moment—and then another. Will they believe it?

She grabbed her phone from the counter, hesitated for a moment, and then typed out a quick message.

Lathika: Are we in love enough?

She hit send and returned to finishing her meal, her eyes glued to the screen for any sign of a reply.

A couple of minutes later, her phone pinged with Prashanth's response.

Prashanth: 😂 I almost choked on my water.

Prashanth: To answer your question, I don't know. I hope we are.

Lathika snorted, amused by his response. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and shook her head, chuckling to herself.

Lathika: Well, I guess we'll have to pretend for now, huh?

Prashanth: Pretend? I thought we were already doing that. 😉

Lathika: Right, right. Pretending we're in love when we've barely spent a week together.

Prashanth: That's more than enough. We've got time to figure it out. Besides, you've already agreed to it, so you're stuck with me. 😜

Lathika: You sure you're ready for this? I'm a lot to handle, you know.

Prashanth: Bring it on, Lathika. I'm up for the challenge. Besides, you might need me when we get to those "family conversations."

Lathika smiled at the phone, her chest warming with a feeling she hadn't expected. Something about the playful exchange, the way he seemed so confident, made her feel... comfortable.

Lathika: Well, guess I'll have to take you up on that challenge. I might need help surviving my grandmother's wrath.

Prashanth: I've got your back, Lathika. No matter what.

Lathika put the phone down and leaned back in her chair, a slight smile tugging at her lips. She hadn't expected to feel so... connected to him after just a week. There was something easy about their conversations, something that made her feel like she could trust him.

She didn't quite know when it happened, but she was beginning to feel drawn to him in a way she hadn't anticipated. The ease, the comfort, the way he understood her, even in the little things—they had formed a bond she hadn't expected. And despite all the uncertainty around their marriage and their plan, Lathika felt a strange kind of peace.

❁ ❁ ❁

The morning was bright and beautiful, the city buzzing with its usual energy, but there Prashanth was—still recuperating from his fractured leg. The contrast was jarring. He had spent the past few days slowly adjusting to the new rhythm of life, confined to his apartment while the rest of the world rushed on without him. Yet today, he felt a quiet sense of satisfaction, the kind you get when things start falling into place.

Prashanth had reached out to nearly ten of his closest friends, asking them to share Lathika's portfolio with everyone they knew. He'd also made a few calls to some big names, people he had met through the years. The response had been overwhelmingly positive. His friends were eager to help, genuinely glad to know someone who could host and plan events outside of the usual, over-saturated names in the market. Some had even agreed to make calls on her behalf, offering her a chance to pitch for their upcoming events.

"Brilliant!" Prashanth exclaimed to no one in particular, pacing around his living room. "Everything is falling into place. Now, we just wait."

He limped over to the coffee table and picked up his cup of coffee, savouring the warmth before taking a sip. The sky outside was clear and welcoming, the kind of weather that made you want to go outside and just breathe. But, with his injury, he was stuck inside. So, he slowly made his way to the balcony, settling down on his favourite beanbag, staring out at the sky. A few planes flew overhead, a reminder of his love for the skies and his job. His thoughts drifted lazily.

Just then, his phone rang. He glanced down at the screen—his mother's name flashed at him. He sighed, the unease creeping up again. He hadn't heard from her in a while, not that it surprised him.

"Hi, ma. How are you?" he answered, his voice warm but guarded.

"What can I say, Prashanth? I'm always happy, enjoying my life, traveling the world," came her usual carefree tone.

"Good to hear that." He sipped his coffee, trying to push away the irritation. "So, where are you now?"

"Now? In Chennai," she replied, the slight sulk in her voice unmistakable. "But I'm planning to go to Peru soon."

Prashanth placed his cup on the floor next to him, steeling himself for what he knew was coming. His mother's whims always seemed to catch him off guard, and he didn't know whether to be frustrated or resigned.

"Do you think you can send me some extra money this month, Prashanth?" she asked, a little too casually.

There it was. If it wasn't for the money, his mother would barely remember his existence. The same reason she had divorced his father—she had wanted to live her life on her terms, without the constraints of familial responsibilities.

Prashanth closed his eyes, taking a slow breath to calm himself. "Didn't I send you more than I used just two weeks ago?"

His mother's giggle was light and dismissive, almost as if she were shrugging it off. "You did, and I used it to go to Batticaloa, Sri Lanka. So many beautiful beaches, Prashanth. You should go there too. The Elephant Rock Beach, especially. I liked it!"

Prashanth's voice was flat as he responded, "Looks like you had a lot of fun, ma."

He didn't have the energy for this. The way she casually mentioned her trips, as though they were the only thing that mattered, only made him feel more disconnected. The absence of any genuine interest in his life—it hurt, even after all these years.

"Anyway, ma. I've got something to tell everyone about," he said, trying to steer the conversation toward something more substantial. He might just ask her, now that she had called. "Do you think you could make it to Madurai tomorrow or the day after?"

There was a long silence, the kind where you could feel someone's disapproval through the phone.

"Madurai?" Padma's voice oozed distaste. "You know I don't like meeting them. If anything, tell me through the phone."

Prashanth stared at the bright sky outside, trying to digest the disappointment. He had hoped, deep down, that his mother would care enough to participate in one of the most important discussions of his life, but he knew that wasn't her way. She was never really there for him—not emotionally, not physically, not mentally.

"Ma, I've decided to get married. Patti and Appa have chosen the bride."

"Oh, really? That's good. How is the girl? Pretty? Is she working? Do you like her?" Padma's voice remained flat, devoid of any real enthusiasm. Her indifference cut deeper than usual.

Prashanth thought about her questions, letting the words sit in the silence for a moment. He answered each one slowly, carefully, with a sense of finality that surprised even him. "Yes, she is beautiful. She owns a business. And I'm still getting to know her. But so far, she's been wonderful."

Despite the lack of excitement in his mother's voice, Prashanth couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at his lips. Lathika truly was a fine woman.

"Well, if you like her, then I don't need to be there. Just send me pictures of whatever rituals you have for the wedding. I can't be there, and I won't."

Prashanth swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew it was coming. Padma's disconnection, her refusal to acknowledge her family, had been a constant in his life. It wasn't new, but it still stung. She had always chosen her own path over the family's, and it seemed that nothing would change.

"Fine. I gotta go, ma. Take care."

"Oh, okay. Prashanth. Don't forget to send me some money, alright? I'll send you some nice souvenirs I got from Sri Lanka later," she trilled, the conversation over before he had a chance to respond.

Prashanth hung up, staring at the phone in his hand. The call had been short but emotionally draining, as always. He let out a sigh, sinking deeper into the beanbag.

Just then, a message notification flashed on his phone. It was from Lathika.

Lathika: Rise and shine! How's your leg today?

Prashanth: Better now that you've asked.

Lathika: Good. I'll bring lunch today.

Lathika: And do you need anything?

Prashanth couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth spread through him at her message. It was such a simple gesture, but it felt like a lifeline.

Prashanth: Thanks, Lathika. All good here, you don't need to get anything else.

He dropped the phone on his lap, stretching with a grateful smile. At least there was someone who wanted to know if he was doing okay—someone who cared, even if it was just for the sake of kindness. It was a small comfort, but it meant everything to him in that moment.

He closed his eyes, looking forward to the lunch, to the small moments that were starting to matter more than he ever expected.

As lunch time arrived, Lathika walked in with her tall food carrier, her voice full of joy. "I've got your favourite papads!"

Prashanth's smile spread wide, though his eyebrows furrowed in surprise. How did she know?

"I literally begged Akka to give me some extra papads," she said, placing the carrier on the kitchen counter.

Watching her, Prashanth felt a wave of realization. What a difference it made to have someone care, especially when all he had known was a neglected mother. Despite being independent and fine on his own, it felt different now, having someone who thought of him.

❁ ❁ ❁

There you go, a little more elaborated glimpse of his mother. 

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