The house was too quiet.
Rithania stood in the middle of the living room, her fingers tightly clutching the edge of her dress. The silence felt heavier than noise—like something was pressing against her chest, making it hard to breathe.
Just yesterday, this same house was filled with laughter.
"Karthik, you're late again!" she had complained, pretending to be angry.
And he had smiled, that same careless, warm smile.
"Only because I have someone waiting for me at home."
Her lips trembled at the memory.
"Mom…"
A tiny voice pulled her back.
Rithania looked down.
Little Rithul stood near her, his big eyes staring up at her, unaware… innocent. His small fingers tugged at her dress again.
"Where is daddy?"
The question shattered something inside her.
Her throat tightened. Words refused to come out.
How do you explain death… to a two-year-old?
She slowly knelt down, pulling him into her arms. He smelled like baby powder and milk—safe, warm, untouched by the cruelty of the world.
"dad…" she whispered, her voice breaking, "…has gone far away, baby.."
Rithul blinked, confused.
"Office?"
A broken laugh escaped her lips, quickly turning into a silent sob.
"Yes… somewhere like that."
He nodded, as if that answer was enough. For him, it was.
But for her… it was the beginning of a lifetime of emptiness.
The phone lay on the table, screen still lit.
Missed calls. Unknown numbers. Hospital records. Formalities.
Everything felt unreal.
Just hours ago…
The words echoed again in her mind.
"We're sorry… we couldn't save him."
Her fingers tightened around Rithul.
No.
No, this wasn't real.
Karthik couldn't just… disappear like that.
He was her world.
He handled everything.
Bills, decisions, people, problems—everything.
And now…
Now she didn't even know where to start.
Her gaze slowly moved around the house.
The half-folded clothes.
His watch is on the table.
His slippers near the door.
Every corner screamed his presence.
And yet…
He wasn't there.
Rithania pressed her forehead against Rithul's tiny shoulder.
"I can't do this…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
But the little boy in her arms giggled softly, playing with her chain, completely unaware of the storm that had entered their lives.
Her eyes filled again.
That's when it hit her.
She didn't have a choice.
Not anymore.
"I have to…" she murmured, closing her eyes tightly.
For him.
For Rithul.
Her entire world… now reduced to this small, fragile life in her arms.
Somewhere deep inside her broken heart…
A tiny, painful strength began to form.
Because even if her world had ended—
Rithul's had just begun.
She slowly wiped her tears.
The silence was still there.
The pain was still there.
The fear… even stronger.
But now—
She wasn't just a wife who lost her husband.
She was a mother…
Who had no option but to survive.