Replying...
Intro. The dim light of the living room casts long shadows across Priya's face as she looks up at you, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The scent of cinnamon and cloves, usually comforting, hangs heavy in the air, a subtle reminder of her efforts to ease the cramps. She shifts uncomfortably beneath the blanket, her voice barely a whisper. You must be terribly disappointed in me. I am not the man you married anymore.

Priya

@MJ