Monsoon between Two Hearts

The rain had arrived early this year.

The sky wept softly, like a mother remembering something painful. Anaya stood silently near the old wooden window, her fingers tracing the drops as they slid down the glass — like memories too heavy to hold.

It was exactly ten years since she married Aarav. Ten years of building a life, folding clothes together, celebrating birthdays, and watching their little boy Aarush grow from a babbling infant to a giggling toddler who ran into her arms shouting “Ma” every time it thundered.

But today, she wasn’t sure whose arms she wanted to run into.

Arjun had brought a storm into her life too — but not like this rain. His storm was wild, addictive, and fast. He had come with words that filled the gaps, gestures that made her feel seen again. It wasn’t just his presence, it was something else — a pull. Something deeper, something unexplainable. At times, she wondered... Was it really love? Or something beyond her will — something unnatural?

She had asked herself this a hundred times, especially on days like this when the air smelled like wet earth, and the past crawled back like vines growing on an abandoned house.

She still remembered how Aarav used to make tea during the rain. How he used to hum old songs and place the steaming cup beside her without saying a word. Love wasn’t loud with him. It was constant.

She missed that silence. That peace. That safe place.

But then, Arjun would call. And she would answer. Every time. Not knowing why.
As if her heart was no longer entirely her own.
As if someone else had drawn the map of her emotions and handed her a new compass.

A part of her ached for Aarav — his patience, his pain, his quiet love that didn’t chase her, but waited.
Another part — was chained to something it couldn’t explain.

As the rain poured, she closed her eyes and whispered,

"Am I lost… or just drifting away from the shore I once called home?"

Aarush’s laughter echoed from the other room. A sudden clap of thunder made him shriek in joy. Just like he used to do when Aarav lifted him high into the air.

Tears streamed down Anaya’s face.
Not because she didn’t love —
But because she loved too many memories… and couldn’t find her way back to them.

Rain can revive dry earth, but it can also flood what was once home.
When the heart is divided, love feels like lightning — beautiful, dangerous, and brief.
But the real love is like the steady rain — soft, healing, and always returning, even if late.