Monsoon Hearts

Chapter 3: Secrets in the Rain

That night, Meera lay in her grandmother’s guest room listening to the rain compose symphonies on the roof. The bed smelled faintly of sandalwood and old roses—Nani’s signature scent that had somehow survived six months of absence. Through the window, she could see the warm glow from Arjun’s studio, where he was apparently working late into the night.

She’d changed into one of the cotton nightgowns she’d found folded in the dresser drawer, along with a note in Nani’s spidery handwriting: For Meera, when she finally comes home to herself.

Sleep eluded her. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Marcus’s face the morning she’d left London—not angry, just resigned, as if he’d been expecting this moment for years. “Take all the time you need,” he’d said, not even looking up from his newspaper. “I’ll be here when you figure out what you want.”

But what if what she wanted was no longer there to return to?

A sound from outside made her sit up. Through the rain, she could hear what sounded like… singing? She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and crept to the window. In the courtyard below, barely visible through the downpour, she could see Arjun standing in the rain, his arms raised to the sky, water streaming down his face as he sang something in Hindi that she couldn’t quite make out.

He looked like he was praying. Or dancing with the storm itself.

When he finally went inside, Meera remained at the window for a long time, wondering what kind of grief or joy could drive someone to embrace a monsoon at midnight.