Raellyn wasn’t naïve. She knew how strained things were between Arnav and his mother. She had heard the whispers, the murmurs behind closed doors, the broken fragments of stories that suggested years of distance and heartache. But she had never asked. Not him. Not anyone else. Because unless it came from Arnav or Mrs. Chyntia herself, she refused to believe it.
Maybe today, if her mother-in-law was willing, she could finally learn the truth.
“He’s doing well,” Raellyn answered carefully. “He’s healthy, and eating more than usual. Lately, he’s been very busy, so we haven’t had much time to talk… but overall, things are fine.”
It was the version of the truth that her aunt had taught her years ago. A wife must never air her husband’s flaws. The privacy of a marriage was sacred, even when t
