Running dreams.

The envelope

He kissed my forehead. Soft. Lingering. Like he was trying to pour all the things he couldn’t say into that one touch.

"Be patient with me," he murmured.

I whispered back, "I am." And I meant it. God, I meant it.

That night, I lay awake beside him. The room was quiet except for the slow rise and fall of his breathing. Moonlight slipped through the thin curtains and painted silver rivers across the ceiling, slow, patient, like it had all the time in the world.

My college form was folded inside the drawer. The edges were starting to soften from how many times I’d touched it. The deadline was two days away. Two days between me and the life I’d been dreaming of since I was seventeen.

I reached for Aarav’s hand in the dark. His fingers were cool. He stirred.

"Meera?" His voice was thick with sleep.

"I’m here."

"What happened?"

"Nothing." I smiled into the dark. "Sleep."

He pulled me closer. His arm came around me, warm and familiar and safe, the way home feels after a long journey. I let my head rest against his chest and listened to his heart.

Then I noticed it. His hand had settled around my wrist. Not holding, not tight. Just there. A circle of weight, like a quiet question. My breath caught. I gently slipped my wrist free and tucked my hand under the blanket. He didn’t wake.

Outside, the rain began. First a whisper on the roof, then a steady song. I turned onto my side and watched the drops race each other down the window.

The next morning, Aarav left before breakfast. The house still smelled like his soap.

He kissed my cheek at the door. "I’ll be back early."

"Okay."

"And Meera?"

"Yes?"

He smiled, that crooked one that always undid me. "I have something for you."

"What?"

"Wait." He walked away before I could ask, the gate clicking shut behind him.

For the first time in days, I felt hopeful. Maybe he had found the money. Maybe the college dream was finally beginning. Maybe everything would be all right.

Later, I came out of the toilet, my hands still damp, my face still warm. The morning had been hard. I’d had to clean up menstrual blood from myself. My mother-in-law. When I stepped out, she was standing in the hallway. She looked at me. Not angry. Not kind. Just… weirdly. Like she was measuring me, weighing something she wouldn’t name. I forced a small smile and walked past, the smell of soap and iron still on my skin.

When I got to the kitchen, the envelope was waiting. White. Thin. Ordinary. It lay beside my cup of tea, steam curling up beside it like a secret.

Yet something about it made me stop before touching it. My heart did a strange little flip. Hope and fear, sitting together.