Shradha sat on the edge of the bathtub, the pregnancy test trembling in hand. Two pink lines stared back at her, stark and undeniable. Her breath caught in her throat, and a cold sweat broke out across her forehead.

The bathroom's silence was deafening, brokwn only by the distant soft snores of Aditya who was fast asleep out in the room. She felt the walls closing in, the air thick with dread.

Her mind raced. This wasn't part of the plan. Not now. Not with him.

She recalled the last argument, his voice raised, eyes wild with anger. The way he had slammed the door, leaving her cowering in the corner. How could she raise a child with him? Her mother had warned her. Mrinal had told her. Everyone gave her the reality check. He was only there because of her womb. And if she failed one more time, she knew death was what followed her. He felt nothing for her. Maybe some protectiveness but like her mother said that's because she possessed some important wealth and connection her father used to have.

Tears welled up, blurring her vision. She clutched her stomach instinctively, a protective gesture, but also one of despair. How could she bring a child into this world? Into this life?

She thought of escape, of running far away, but the chains of fear and uncertainty held her fast. Where would she go? Who would believe her? The isolation was complete.

The test slipped from her fingers, landing with a soft thud on the tiled floor. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing silently, the weight of her reality pressing down with unbearable force.

In that moment, she felt utterly alone, trapped in a nightmare with no end in sight.

She sobbed more, wanting to just end it all. For one moment, she sinked deep into the bathtub, the eater reaching till her neck. She wanted to go more in, just relieve herself from the misery she was living. Perhaps in death she might find peace. Love. Strength.

Her hands clutched the side of the tiled tub, deciding if she should go all in or not, but involuntarily the water was caving in, filling her ears. She closed her eyes, silence and peace. It was addicting. She wanted more, so she sank deeper. Her lungs clenched tight wanting air but she didn't dare fight it. Her body didn't fight, just as tired as she was.

She thought about what Aditya would wake up to tomorrow. His wife dead on their bathtub. Must make headlines. Would he be devastated? Or would he move on and replace her with someone else. She didn't care anymore. For once she didn't care what he will think.

She closed her eyes tight, tears ticking down as she sank deeper and deeper.

Deeper.

The oblivion felt magical. It was like being underwater, with no chaos, no commotions, no hate, no betrayal. Just pure peace.

She thought about her child which she killed a couple of months ago. Will she ever be forgiven for that sin? Never. But will she be forgiven for what she was doing now? Killing yet another life along with hers?

The bathtub was full, the water still.

Tears slipped into the water, unnoticed, unacknowledged.

She had waited for a moment—any moment—where he might look at her with softness. Ask how she was. Ask if she was okay. But he didn't. Not once. He didn't want a child. He wanted a legacy. A son. A male heir who could carry his name and secure the lineage he obsessed over.

And if it wasn't a boy? If she gave him a daughter like her mother once did?

She had seen how that story ends.

Her mother had wilted quietly in a home filled with men—husband, brothers, even sons—none of whom listened.

The water touched her chin now. She slid lower. Her ears dipped beneath the surface. The world went muffled, like cotton wrapped around her thoughts. It would be easy. Just tilt her head back and hold. Let her lungs fill. Let it end.

Then—it came. A flutter. A soft, undeniable shift inside her womb. Like a thread tugged gently from the other side.

She gasped. Not from fear, but from the surge of something long forgotten. Life. Not just the biological one growing within her—but her own. It wasn't a kick. It wasn't strong. But it was there.

The child was real. The child was hers.

He could take her body, but this part—this growing spark—was not his to control. Not his to own. She pressed both palms to her stomach, sobs breaking free of her chest in sharp, stuttering waves.

Her heart cracked open, not from grief this time—but from fierce, defiant love.

She would not die like her mother. She had to prove her mother wrong. She was not her mother and will never be. She will never let history repeat.

She would not be buried beneath silence and sacrifice.

Not now. Not with this life inside her.

She rose from the water, dripping, shaking, alive.

Shradha moved to the mirror, wiping her face and body with a towel. Putting on a rob, she carefully discarded the pregnancy kit wrapped around a tissue paper in the dustbin. She tiptoed out to the room where Aditya was sound asleep.

She quickly got dressed up, packed some essential things into a leather bag, put on her shoes and took Aditya's car keys. She opened the cupboard near the bed side and found his purse. She went through the contents and managed to grab a handful of cash that would let her to start over. She wasn't stealing. Just taking what was rightfully hers. After all he took all her wealth.

Before leaving the room, she looked at the sleeping figure. He looked at peace, completely oblivious to the war that was happening around him. Shradha knew her plan wasn't well curated or calculated and she knew if he really tried, he would find her in a second. But the feeling of trying, at-least once was what she wanted.

She looked at the man who gave her everything. Pain. Pleasure. Misery. Insecurity. Protection. But not love. All she craved for was that. Tears slipped down her eyes. Even after everything she realised separation from him hurt her more. She bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead as a tears slipped her eyes and wet his cheeks. He twitched in sleep and Shradha immediately pulled away in a defensive stance. But he was deep in sleep.

"Maybe in another life, you'll be able to love me the way I loved you. Maybe then we'll be normal."

She took her phone in her hand and dialled the only person she had for her rescue.

"Ma? I want to be free. Like you did."

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