27-05-2026, 10:38 PM
Chapter 50 — Monsoon Between Them
Chennai had finally changed.
After months of unbearable April and May heat that left the city exhausted and restless, October arrived with dark clouds gathering above the skyline.
Then came the cyclone warnings.
The monsoon settled heavily over the city.
Rainwater flooded roads.
Power cuts became common in some areas.
Traffic slowed to a crawl every evening.
And almost every important moment in their lives now seemed to happen under grey skies and continuous rain.
As though the weather itself was quietly absorbing everyone’s emotions.
---
That evening, rain lashed hard against apartment balconies across the city.
The wind carried the smell of wet roads and soaked trees into every open corridor.
And for the first time in a very long while—
Shruthi came home early.
Even Hasini looked surprised.
“You came before dark!” she shouted happily while running toward her.
Shruthi smiled faintly and hugged her tightly.
“There was a server issue in the office because of the rain,” she said casually. “Most work got postponed.”
Believable enough.
No one questioned it further.
---
The apartment slowly filled with a warmth it had been missing for months.
Shruthi helped Hasini with homework at the dining table while rain continued pouring outside.
The child kept talking endlessly while showing notebooks, drawings, unfinished spellings, and college gossip.
For once, Shruthi listened patiently.
Not distracted.
Not tired.
Present.
Later, she moved into the kitchen and prepared dinner herself.
Simple food.
Nothing elaborate.
Yet the atmosphere inside the house felt strangely comforting.
Almost like an older version of their marriage had briefly returned.
---
Laila noticed it too.
When she came over to return Hasini’s water bottle she had accidentally carried earlier, she paused slightly seeing the lights on, the smell of cooking, and Shruthi moving around the kitchen.
“You came early today?” Laila asked casually.
“Miracle, right?” Shruthi laughed softly.
They spoke for a few minutes near the doorway.
Small conversations.
Rain complaints.
Power cut jokes.
Office frustrations.
Hasini interrupting randomly in between.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing suspicious.
But Lokesh quietly noticed how naturally Laila fit into their everyday life now.
And somehow that realization made him uncomfortable.
Not because he disliked it.
Because he liked it more than he should.
After a while, Laila left with a smile, wishing them goodnight before disappearing into the rain-dim corridor.
---
Night deepened.
Rain intensified.
The sound of water hitting the balcony grills became constant.
Dinner ended quietly.
Hasini eventually fell asleep beside her collegebooks after refusing to move to bed.
Shruthi carried her carefully into the bedroom.
And sometime later, while the storm continued outside, Shruthi walked toward Lokesh with a bottle in her hand.
“Magic Moments?” she asked with a tired smile.
Lokesh looked surprised.
“You serious?”
“Tonight… yes.”
He noticed something different in her face.
Not excitement.
Not celebration.
Just emotional exhaustion searching for comfort.
---
Lokesh himself didn’t drink much.
Barely enough to accompany her.
He remained mostly sober.
Shruthi, however, slowly became softer with each glass.
Not loud.
Not careless.
Just honest in the way emotionally tired people become after lowering their guard.
The rain outside somehow made the silence easier.
For a long time, both simply sat near the balcony listening to thunder rolling somewhere far away across Chennai.
Then Shruthi finally spoke.
“You know something?” she said quietly.
“Hm?”
“We became routine.”
Lokesh looked at her.
She continued staring outside.
“Everything between us became scheduled. Wake up. Work. Child. Sleep. Repeat.”
Her voice carried no anger.
That made it harder to hear.
“There’s no excitement anymore, Loka.”
He remained silent.
“And even physically…” she hesitated before speaking again, “…I don’t feel wanted anymore.”
That sentence hit him harder than expected.
The rain kept falling.
“You don’t even look at me the same way now,” she whispered.
Lokesh immediately tried to respond.
“It’s not like that—”
“But it is.”
She finally turned toward him.
Eyes slightly red from alcohol, exhaustion, and emotions she had suppressed too long.
“I know life changes after marriage. I know responsibilities come. But sometimes I feel like we stopped being husband and wife somewhere in between.”
Her honesty made him uncomfortable because a part of him knew she wasn’t entirely wrong.
And the guilt inside him grew sharper remembering how emotionally distracted he himself had become recently.
---
Maybe because of the rain.
Maybe because both of them desperately missed feeling close again.
Or maybe because storms make people temporarily vulnerable.
But sometime past midnight, Shruthi suddenly smiled faintly and asked,
“Will you take me for a drive?”
Lokesh blinked.
“In this rain?”
“Yes.”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m emotional,” she corrected softly.
That made him laugh for the first time that night.
---
Hasini remained asleep safely inside Laila’s apartment for the night after the power fluctuated again in their building.
Laila had insisted she would watch her.
Shruthi agreed without thinking much about it.
And sometime later, Lokesh took the car keys while heavy rain continued flooding the streets outside.
He himself was not drunk.
Careful.
Controlled.
Responsible enough to drive.
The roads were almost empty except for water reflections beneath streetlights and occasional bikes cutting through rain mist.
Inside the car, old melodies played softly at low volume.
Shruthi rested her head against the window first.
Then eventually against his shoulder when they stopped near the empty beach road.
Neither spoke much.
For the first time in months, silence between them did not feel distant.
It felt peaceful.
And sometime near dawn, after returning home through rain-soaked streets and sleeping city lights, they held each other quietly in bed.
No grand passion.
No dramatic promises.
Just two tired people trying to remember the version of themselves they had almost lost somewhere between responsibility and routine.
Outside, Chennai’s monsoon continued pouring endlessly through the night.
And somewhere else in the same rain-covered city—
other emotions were still waiting to become storms of their own.
Chennai had finally changed.
After months of unbearable April and May heat that left the city exhausted and restless, October arrived with dark clouds gathering above the skyline.
Then came the cyclone warnings.
The monsoon settled heavily over the city.
Rainwater flooded roads.
Power cuts became common in some areas.
Traffic slowed to a crawl every evening.
And almost every important moment in their lives now seemed to happen under grey skies and continuous rain.
As though the weather itself was quietly absorbing everyone’s emotions.
---
That evening, rain lashed hard against apartment balconies across the city.
The wind carried the smell of wet roads and soaked trees into every open corridor.
And for the first time in a very long while—
Shruthi came home early.
Even Hasini looked surprised.
“You came before dark!” she shouted happily while running toward her.
Shruthi smiled faintly and hugged her tightly.
“There was a server issue in the office because of the rain,” she said casually. “Most work got postponed.”
Believable enough.
No one questioned it further.
---
The apartment slowly filled with a warmth it had been missing for months.
Shruthi helped Hasini with homework at the dining table while rain continued pouring outside.
The child kept talking endlessly while showing notebooks, drawings, unfinished spellings, and college gossip.
For once, Shruthi listened patiently.
Not distracted.
Not tired.
Present.
Later, she moved into the kitchen and prepared dinner herself.
Simple food.
Nothing elaborate.
Yet the atmosphere inside the house felt strangely comforting.
Almost like an older version of their marriage had briefly returned.
---
Laila noticed it too.
When she came over to return Hasini’s water bottle she had accidentally carried earlier, she paused slightly seeing the lights on, the smell of cooking, and Shruthi moving around the kitchen.
“You came early today?” Laila asked casually.
“Miracle, right?” Shruthi laughed softly.
They spoke for a few minutes near the doorway.
Small conversations.
Rain complaints.
Power cut jokes.
Office frustrations.
Hasini interrupting randomly in between.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing suspicious.
But Lokesh quietly noticed how naturally Laila fit into their everyday life now.
And somehow that realization made him uncomfortable.
Not because he disliked it.
Because he liked it more than he should.
After a while, Laila left with a smile, wishing them goodnight before disappearing into the rain-dim corridor.
---
Night deepened.
Rain intensified.
The sound of water hitting the balcony grills became constant.
Dinner ended quietly.
Hasini eventually fell asleep beside her collegebooks after refusing to move to bed.
Shruthi carried her carefully into the bedroom.
And sometime later, while the storm continued outside, Shruthi walked toward Lokesh with a bottle in her hand.
“Magic Moments?” she asked with a tired smile.
Lokesh looked surprised.
“You serious?”
“Tonight… yes.”
He noticed something different in her face.
Not excitement.
Not celebration.
Just emotional exhaustion searching for comfort.
---
Lokesh himself didn’t drink much.
Barely enough to accompany her.
He remained mostly sober.
Shruthi, however, slowly became softer with each glass.
Not loud.
Not careless.
Just honest in the way emotionally tired people become after lowering their guard.
The rain outside somehow made the silence easier.
For a long time, both simply sat near the balcony listening to thunder rolling somewhere far away across Chennai.
Then Shruthi finally spoke.
“You know something?” she said quietly.
“Hm?”
“We became routine.”
Lokesh looked at her.
She continued staring outside.
“Everything between us became scheduled. Wake up. Work. Child. Sleep. Repeat.”
Her voice carried no anger.
That made it harder to hear.
“There’s no excitement anymore, Loka.”
He remained silent.
“And even physically…” she hesitated before speaking again, “…I don’t feel wanted anymore.”
That sentence hit him harder than expected.
The rain kept falling.
“You don’t even look at me the same way now,” she whispered.
Lokesh immediately tried to respond.
“It’s not like that—”
“But it is.”
She finally turned toward him.
Eyes slightly red from alcohol, exhaustion, and emotions she had suppressed too long.
“I know life changes after marriage. I know responsibilities come. But sometimes I feel like we stopped being husband and wife somewhere in between.”
Her honesty made him uncomfortable because a part of him knew she wasn’t entirely wrong.
And the guilt inside him grew sharper remembering how emotionally distracted he himself had become recently.
---
Maybe because of the rain.
Maybe because both of them desperately missed feeling close again.
Or maybe because storms make people temporarily vulnerable.
But sometime past midnight, Shruthi suddenly smiled faintly and asked,
“Will you take me for a drive?”
Lokesh blinked.
“In this rain?”
“Yes.”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m emotional,” she corrected softly.
That made him laugh for the first time that night.
---
Hasini remained asleep safely inside Laila’s apartment for the night after the power fluctuated again in their building.
Laila had insisted she would watch her.
Shruthi agreed without thinking much about it.
And sometime later, Lokesh took the car keys while heavy rain continued flooding the streets outside.
He himself was not drunk.
Careful.
Controlled.
Responsible enough to drive.
The roads were almost empty except for water reflections beneath streetlights and occasional bikes cutting through rain mist.
Inside the car, old melodies played softly at low volume.
Shruthi rested her head against the window first.
Then eventually against his shoulder when they stopped near the empty beach road.
Neither spoke much.
For the first time in months, silence between them did not feel distant.
It felt peaceful.
And sometime near dawn, after returning home through rain-soaked streets and sleeping city lights, they held each other quietly in bed.
No grand passion.
No dramatic promises.
Just two tired people trying to remember the version of themselves they had almost lost somewhere between responsibility and routine.
Outside, Chennai’s monsoon continued pouring endlessly through the night.
And somewhere else in the same rain-covered city—
other emotions were still waiting to become storms of their own.
-Pickup, drop, escape.
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