25-05-2026, 11:47 PM
(This post was last modified: 25-05-2026, 11:53 PM by Hornytamilan23. Edited 2 times in total. Edited 2 times in total.)
Chapter 33 — Distances
There are some distances that marriages slowly learn to live with.
Not emotional ones.
Practical ones.
Office timings. Traffic. Responsibilities. Exhaustion. Different schedules inside the same life.
And over time, those practical distances quietly begin shaping emotional ones too.
---
For Lokesh and Shruthi, it had started years ago.
Long before Karthik. Long before Laila. Long before silence entered their evenings.
Back when Shruthi was pregnant with Hasini.
---
At that time, Lokesh’s company had transferred him permanently to their Chennai branch office near Velachery.
The job was stable. Good salary. Predictable timings.
And because Shruthi’s pregnancy had become slightly complicated during the seventh month, Lokesh insisted they move closer to his workplace.
Closer office meant: less travel, faster emergency access, and someone always nearby if something happened.
Shruthi remembered those days clearly.
Lokesh driving carefully. Doctor visits. His constant worrying. Buying fruits she never wanted. Reading pregnancy blogs like exam preparation.
He had been annoyingly protective then.
---
So they bought the apartment.
Not luxurious.
But warm.
Close to: his office, the metro station, colleges, hospital access.
Practical decisions.
Family decisions.
---
After Hasini was born, Shruthi initially paused her career for almost two years.
Then slowly, once life stabilized, she joined work again.
But unlike Lokesh’s office, her company was farther away.
Almost across the city during peak traffic.
And Chennai traffic had no mercy.
---
So naturally, their routines evolved differently.
Lokesh usually returned home first.
By fivr-thirty or six at most.
He drove himself. Short route. Familiar roads.
Meanwhile Shruthi’s evenings became unpredictable.
Some days cab. Some days metro. Sometimes both.
And even when the office ended on time, traffic stretched everything endlessly.
An hour and half. Sometimes two.
By the time she reached home, part of the evening already belonged to someone else.
---
At first, none of this mattered.
They adjusted naturally.
Lokesh picked up Hasini from daycare. Shruthi handled bedtime. Weekend compensated everything.
Normal urban marriage.
---
But over the years, routines became identities.
Lokesh became: the available parent, the early presence, the evening stability.
Shruthi became: the tired arrival, the delayed energy, the person constantly trying to catch up with time.
And without anybody realizing it, guilt slowly entered her.
---
That evening too followed the same pattern.
Lokesh reached home first.
Rain clouds still hung heavily outside while he parked the car downstairs and walked toward the apartment carrying Hasini’s college project materials.
The corridor smelled faintly of coffee and wet clothes.
And before he even unlocked the door—
Laila’s voice floated from across the corridor.
“Engineer sir!”
Lokesh looked up immediately.
She stood near her doorway holding a half-cut mango dramatically.
“Emergency question.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“How to make solar system model?”
Lokesh laughed softly.
“Why are you asking me like NASA scientist?”
“Because Hasini told you know everything.”
From inside, Hasini shouted proudly:
“My appa knows volcano also!”
“See?” Laila pointed victoriously.
“Reputation.”
---
Within minutes, both apartments became connected again the way they often did nowadays.
Doors open. Children moving freely. Conversations crossing hallways naturally.
---
While Hasini spread chart papers on the floor, Lokesh helped sketch planets roughly.
Laila sat nearby cutting colored paper circles.
“You made Saturn look like onion,” she commented.
“That is artistic interpretation.”
“That is vegetable.”
Hasini burst into laughter immediately.
---
The ease between them had become effortless now.
That was the dangerous part.
No conscious flirting. No hidden planning.
Just comfort accumulating quietly through repeated evenings.
---
Around eight-thirty, Shruthi finally entered the apartment building after another exhausting commute.
Metro crowd. Cab delay. Rain traffic.
Her shoulders hurt.
Her head hurt.
And emotionally she still remained caught somewhere between resentment and confusion regarding Karthik.
---
When she opened the apartment door, familiar sounds greeted her again.
Hasini laughing. Laila speaking loudly from inside. Lokesh responding casually.
Home.
Yet lately it didn’t feel entirely like hers anymore during evenings.
---
The dining table was filled with chart papers and crayons.
Hasini looked up immediately.
“Mamma! Solar system!”
Shruthi smiled tiredly.
“Very nice.”
Laila emerged from kitchen carrying tea.
“You came late again.”
“Traffic.”
“Drink tea first.”
Shruthi accepted the cup quietly.
---
Lokesh noticed her exhaustion immediately.
“You came by metro?”
“Hm. Then cab.”
“Too much crowd?”
She gave him a look.
“When is it not?”
Fair enough.
---
For a few minutes conversation remained normal.
Safe.
Routine.
Then slowly, once Hasini became distracted with coloring planets, the topic shifted naturally toward work.
And eventually—
toward Karthik.
Not directly.
Carefully.
---
Lokesh sat beside Shruthi on the sofa while Laila remained in the kitchen helping Hasini wash paint brushes.
“How’s office?” he asked casually.
Shruthi shrugged.
“Fine.”
“Karthik?”
The question came gently.
Without accusation.
Without suspicion.
Just quiet checking.
---
Shruthi paused briefly before answering.
“Normal.”
Lokesh looked at her carefully.
“You both spoke?”
“Not properly.”
“But?”
She leaned back tiredly.
“He’s… trying to act normal.”
“And you?”
Shruthi stared toward the balcony for a moment.
“I don’t know.”
---
Lokesh stayed silent.
So she continued softly:
“I don’t hate him.”
That sentence surprised even her slightly after saying it aloud.
“But I also can’t see him the same way.”
Lokesh nodded slowly.
Understanding immediately.
---
“At least now there’s no awkward fighting,” she added quietly.
“We don’t talk much. Just… small smiles sometimes.”
Lokesh listened carefully.
“And he?”
“He wants to talk.”
“You’re stopping it?”
“Not intentionally.”
She paused.
“I just don’t know what version of us exists anymore.”
That honesty settled quietly between them.
---
From the kitchen, Laila’s voice interrupted suddenly.
“Hasini! Don’t wash your own hand and entire bathroom together!”
Hasini giggled loudly.
The domestic noise softened the tension slightly.
---
Lokesh leaned back against the sofa thoughtfully.
“He apologized properly?”
Shruthi nodded once.
“Hm.”
“But?”
She looked down at the tea cup.
“I think he expected forgiveness faster.”
Lokesh smiled faintly without humor.
“People always want consequences shorter than guilt.”
Shruthi looked at him quietly after that.
Sometimes his calm observations irritated her.
Other times they comforted her deeply.
Tonight, both feelings existed together.
---
Meanwhile, inside his pocket, Lokesh’s phone vibrated once.
Then stopped.
He ignored it absentmindedly.
---
A few minutes later, while helping Hasini with homework measurements, the phone vibrated again.
This time he checked.
Divya.
Missed call.
---
His expression changed very slightly.
Shruthi noticed immediately.
“Who?”
“Divya.”
Shruthi’s face stiffened unconsciously.
“She called?”
“Hm.”
“You picked?”
“No. Missed it.”
That answer strangely relaxed her slightly though she didn’t show it openly.
---
Lokesh called back casually while walking toward the balcony.
The phone rang.
No answer.
He frowned mildly.
Again he tried.
Still nothing.
---
Inside, Shruthi pretended to focus on Hasini’s homework while quietly listening for fragments of conversation that never came.
And suddenly old insecurities returned again.
Not because she distrusted Lokesh.
Because lately too many emotional threads surrounded their lives: Karthik, Divya, Laila, distance, misunderstandings.
Everything felt emotionally unfinished.
---
When Lokesh returned inside, Shruthi asked casually:
“She didn’t pick?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Don’t know.”
He genuinely didn’t know.
But what he didn’t realize was this:
the moment Shruthi heard Divya’s name, another layer of discomfort quietly entered her mind.
Because somewhere deep inside, she still remembered: Lokesh, Divya, college days, unspoken histories.
And lately, her emotional stability had already become fragile enough to notice every unresolved connection around her.
---
Later that night, after Laila left with a smiling “Goodnight,” and Hasini finally slept surrounded by chart papers and glitter pens, Shruthi stood alone near the balcony.
Below, Chennai traffic still moved endlessly through wet roads.
Lokesh joined her quietly after a while.
For a few moments neither spoke.
Then Shruthi suddenly asked softly:
“Do you think things can become normal again?”
Lokesh looked at her.
“With Karthik?”
She nodded.
He thought for a moment before answering honestly.
“Maybe not old normal.”
That hurt slightly because she knew it was true.
---
“But something else can exist,” he continued quietly.
“Only if boundaries become clearer.”
Shruthi exhaled slowly.
“And us?”
Lokesh frowned faintly.
“What about us?”
She looked away toward the city lights.
“Sometimes I feel like life is slowly happening around us instead of between us.”
That sentence lingered heavily in the humid night air.
Because neither could deny it anymore.
There are some distances that marriages slowly learn to live with.
Not emotional ones.
Practical ones.
Office timings. Traffic. Responsibilities. Exhaustion. Different schedules inside the same life.
And over time, those practical distances quietly begin shaping emotional ones too.
---
For Lokesh and Shruthi, it had started years ago.
Long before Karthik. Long before Laila. Long before silence entered their evenings.
Back when Shruthi was pregnant with Hasini.
---
At that time, Lokesh’s company had transferred him permanently to their Chennai branch office near Velachery.
The job was stable. Good salary. Predictable timings.
And because Shruthi’s pregnancy had become slightly complicated during the seventh month, Lokesh insisted they move closer to his workplace.
Closer office meant: less travel, faster emergency access, and someone always nearby if something happened.
Shruthi remembered those days clearly.
Lokesh driving carefully. Doctor visits. His constant worrying. Buying fruits she never wanted. Reading pregnancy blogs like exam preparation.
He had been annoyingly protective then.
---
So they bought the apartment.
Not luxurious.
But warm.
Close to: his office, the metro station, colleges, hospital access.
Practical decisions.
Family decisions.
---
After Hasini was born, Shruthi initially paused her career for almost two years.
Then slowly, once life stabilized, she joined work again.
But unlike Lokesh’s office, her company was farther away.
Almost across the city during peak traffic.
And Chennai traffic had no mercy.
---
So naturally, their routines evolved differently.
Lokesh usually returned home first.
By fivr-thirty or six at most.
He drove himself. Short route. Familiar roads.
Meanwhile Shruthi’s evenings became unpredictable.
Some days cab. Some days metro. Sometimes both.
And even when the office ended on time, traffic stretched everything endlessly.
An hour and half. Sometimes two.
By the time she reached home, part of the evening already belonged to someone else.
---
At first, none of this mattered.
They adjusted naturally.
Lokesh picked up Hasini from daycare. Shruthi handled bedtime. Weekend compensated everything.
Normal urban marriage.
---
But over the years, routines became identities.
Lokesh became: the available parent, the early presence, the evening stability.
Shruthi became: the tired arrival, the delayed energy, the person constantly trying to catch up with time.
And without anybody realizing it, guilt slowly entered her.
---
That evening too followed the same pattern.
Lokesh reached home first.
Rain clouds still hung heavily outside while he parked the car downstairs and walked toward the apartment carrying Hasini’s college project materials.
The corridor smelled faintly of coffee and wet clothes.
And before he even unlocked the door—
Laila’s voice floated from across the corridor.
“Engineer sir!”
Lokesh looked up immediately.
She stood near her doorway holding a half-cut mango dramatically.
“Emergency question.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“How to make solar system model?”
Lokesh laughed softly.
“Why are you asking me like NASA scientist?”
“Because Hasini told you know everything.”
From inside, Hasini shouted proudly:
“My appa knows volcano also!”
“See?” Laila pointed victoriously.
“Reputation.”
---
Within minutes, both apartments became connected again the way they often did nowadays.
Doors open. Children moving freely. Conversations crossing hallways naturally.
---
While Hasini spread chart papers on the floor, Lokesh helped sketch planets roughly.
Laila sat nearby cutting colored paper circles.
“You made Saturn look like onion,” she commented.
“That is artistic interpretation.”
“That is vegetable.”
Hasini burst into laughter immediately.
---
The ease between them had become effortless now.
That was the dangerous part.
No conscious flirting. No hidden planning.
Just comfort accumulating quietly through repeated evenings.
---
Around eight-thirty, Shruthi finally entered the apartment building after another exhausting commute.
Metro crowd. Cab delay. Rain traffic.
Her shoulders hurt.
Her head hurt.
And emotionally she still remained caught somewhere between resentment and confusion regarding Karthik.
---
When she opened the apartment door, familiar sounds greeted her again.
Hasini laughing. Laila speaking loudly from inside. Lokesh responding casually.
Home.
Yet lately it didn’t feel entirely like hers anymore during evenings.
---
The dining table was filled with chart papers and crayons.
Hasini looked up immediately.
“Mamma! Solar system!”
Shruthi smiled tiredly.
“Very nice.”
Laila emerged from kitchen carrying tea.
“You came late again.”
“Traffic.”
“Drink tea first.”
Shruthi accepted the cup quietly.
---
Lokesh noticed her exhaustion immediately.
“You came by metro?”
“Hm. Then cab.”
“Too much crowd?”
She gave him a look.
“When is it not?”
Fair enough.
---
For a few minutes conversation remained normal.
Safe.
Routine.
Then slowly, once Hasini became distracted with coloring planets, the topic shifted naturally toward work.
And eventually—
toward Karthik.
Not directly.
Carefully.
---
Lokesh sat beside Shruthi on the sofa while Laila remained in the kitchen helping Hasini wash paint brushes.
“How’s office?” he asked casually.
Shruthi shrugged.
“Fine.”
“Karthik?”
The question came gently.
Without accusation.
Without suspicion.
Just quiet checking.
---
Shruthi paused briefly before answering.
“Normal.”
Lokesh looked at her carefully.
“You both spoke?”
“Not properly.”
“But?”
She leaned back tiredly.
“He’s… trying to act normal.”
“And you?”
Shruthi stared toward the balcony for a moment.
“I don’t know.”
---
Lokesh stayed silent.
So she continued softly:
“I don’t hate him.”
That sentence surprised even her slightly after saying it aloud.
“But I also can’t see him the same way.”
Lokesh nodded slowly.
Understanding immediately.
---
“At least now there’s no awkward fighting,” she added quietly.
“We don’t talk much. Just… small smiles sometimes.”
Lokesh listened carefully.
“And he?”
“He wants to talk.”
“You’re stopping it?”
“Not intentionally.”
She paused.
“I just don’t know what version of us exists anymore.”
That honesty settled quietly between them.
---
From the kitchen, Laila’s voice interrupted suddenly.
“Hasini! Don’t wash your own hand and entire bathroom together!”
Hasini giggled loudly.
The domestic noise softened the tension slightly.
---
Lokesh leaned back against the sofa thoughtfully.
“He apologized properly?”
Shruthi nodded once.
“Hm.”
“But?”
She looked down at the tea cup.
“I think he expected forgiveness faster.”
Lokesh smiled faintly without humor.
“People always want consequences shorter than guilt.”
Shruthi looked at him quietly after that.
Sometimes his calm observations irritated her.
Other times they comforted her deeply.
Tonight, both feelings existed together.
---
Meanwhile, inside his pocket, Lokesh’s phone vibrated once.
Then stopped.
He ignored it absentmindedly.
---
A few minutes later, while helping Hasini with homework measurements, the phone vibrated again.
This time he checked.
Divya.
Missed call.
---
His expression changed very slightly.
Shruthi noticed immediately.
“Who?”
“Divya.”
Shruthi’s face stiffened unconsciously.
“She called?”
“Hm.”
“You picked?”
“No. Missed it.”
That answer strangely relaxed her slightly though she didn’t show it openly.
---
Lokesh called back casually while walking toward the balcony.
The phone rang.
No answer.
He frowned mildly.
Again he tried.
Still nothing.
---
Inside, Shruthi pretended to focus on Hasini’s homework while quietly listening for fragments of conversation that never came.
And suddenly old insecurities returned again.
Not because she distrusted Lokesh.
Because lately too many emotional threads surrounded their lives: Karthik, Divya, Laila, distance, misunderstandings.
Everything felt emotionally unfinished.
---
When Lokesh returned inside, Shruthi asked casually:
“She didn’t pick?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Don’t know.”
He genuinely didn’t know.
But what he didn’t realize was this:
the moment Shruthi heard Divya’s name, another layer of discomfort quietly entered her mind.
Because somewhere deep inside, she still remembered: Lokesh, Divya, college days, unspoken histories.
And lately, her emotional stability had already become fragile enough to notice every unresolved connection around her.
---
Later that night, after Laila left with a smiling “Goodnight,” and Hasini finally slept surrounded by chart papers and glitter pens, Shruthi stood alone near the balcony.
Below, Chennai traffic still moved endlessly through wet roads.
Lokesh joined her quietly after a while.
For a few moments neither spoke.
Then Shruthi suddenly asked softly:
“Do you think things can become normal again?”
Lokesh looked at her.
“With Karthik?”
She nodded.
He thought for a moment before answering honestly.
“Maybe not old normal.”
That hurt slightly because she knew it was true.
---
“But something else can exist,” he continued quietly.
“Only if boundaries become clearer.”
Shruthi exhaled slowly.
“And us?”
Lokesh frowned faintly.
“What about us?”
She looked away toward the city lights.
“Sometimes I feel like life is slowly happening around us instead of between us.”
That sentence lingered heavily in the humid night air.
Because neither could deny it anymore.
-Pickup, drop, escape.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)