The morning light crept in like it was apologizing.
Shankar's eyes opened slowly, not because he was rested —
but because sleep had finally surrendered to exhaustion.
His body felt like it had aged years overnight.
His head hurt, but not like a headache.
More like… his mind had been picked apart and left in pieces.
He sat up.
The box was still there beside the bed — closed, untouched.
The Ring was inside it, hidden beneath crayon memories and medals.
He didn't reach for it.
Not yet.
His phone buzzed once.
Nikhil.
He stared at the screen for a second before answering.
"Hello?"
"Bro!" Nikhil's voice came in like sunlight through clouds. "You alive?"
"Barely," Shankar said, rubbing his eyes.
"Good. That means you're still human. Listen—everyone's been planning to meet up today. Nothing wild. Just food and vibes. Thought you'd wanna come."
Shankar didn't respond.
Nikhil's tone shifted just a little.
"Also… Savitri called me last night. Around 9? She sounded a little off. Asked if I'd heard from you."
Shankar's hand froze on the edge of the bedsheet.
"Yeah. I saw her call," he said softly. "I didn't… I couldn't."
There was a pause on the line.
Then Nikhil, gently: "It's okay, bro. Just… show up today. Around sunset. Everyone needs a little break."
He hung up.
The phone sat in his palm like a stone.
Heavy, silent, waiting.
One missed call. One moment missed.
Shankar hovered over her name.
Then tapped it.
The ringback tone buzzed twice before she answered.
"Hello?"
Her voice was softer than usual. Not distant. Just… gentle.
"Hey," he said. His own voice was low, tired. "I saw your call. I… couldn't talk last night."
"It's okay," she replied quickly. But it wasn't casual.
Not really.
Shankar didn't say anything right away.
There was a pause — not awkward, just… loaded.
Savitri broke it. "Are you… alright?"
He closed his eyes. Leaned his head against the wall beside his window.
"No. But I will be."
He didn't need to explain.
She didn't ask him to.
"Everyone's meeting later," she said. "Evening. I guess… to feel a little normal again."
He nodded, even though she couldn't see him.
"I'll come."
"Good," she said quietly.
He wanted to say more. Something small. Something like "thank you" or "bye"
But the words didn't rise.
Only silence did.
"I'll see you," she added. "Take your time."
Then the call ended.
And Shankar was left staring at his reflection in the blank screen — a face that didn't quite look like his own.
He turned from the window and walked toward the living room.
His mother was at the dining table, half-folding laundry, half-lost in thought.
The light from the window slanted across her face like a fading memory.
She looked up as he entered.
He stood there for a second, hands in his pockets, unsure how to begin.
"I'm sorry," he said, finally. "For last night. For how I spoke. For everything."
Devi didn't reply right away.
She folded the shirt in her hands, placed it neatly in the pile, then looked up at him — eyes tired, but soft.
"You had every right to ask," she said. "To feel angry."
He sat down across from her.
"I don't want to live in the past anymore," he said. "Not his… not mine."
She gave a faint, sad smile. "Then don't."
"I still don't understand everything. But I don't think I need to. Not all at once."
"No one ever does," she whispered.
A moment passed between them — not healed, not erased —
but calmer.
"Go meet your friends," she said. "Laugh, even if it feels forced. It helps."
Shankar stood again. A little taller this time.
She reached out, touched his hand just for a second.
"You carry too much in that mind of yours," she said. "Let the world carry some of it today."
He nodded.
By the time the clock touched 6:30, the sky outside had dimmed into gold.
Shankar stood by his window, staring out as streetlights blinked to life one by one.
The group chat buzzed again on his phone.
"Everyone meet at 7. Near the café beside Novelty Bookstore. Don't be late 😤"
— Meena
He locked the screen and sighed.
It should have felt normal.
But something inside him didn't.
A whisper.
A weight.
Like the wind was holding its breath.
He walked to the box again.
Opened it slowly.
The Ring sat there—motionless. Quiet.
But Shankar knew better now.
He picked it up, held it in his hand for a second.
It was cool, almost cold.
He didn't slide it onto his thumb.
Not yet.
Just slipped it into his pocket.
Just in case.
In the living room, Devi folded a blanket over the couch when he stepped out.
"I'm going," he said, grabbing his phone and wallet.
She looked up, a soft smile playing on her lips. "With friends?"
"Yeah," he said. "I'll be back before 9:30."
She nodded.
"Good," she said. "Enjoy the present. Let it breathe a little."
He managed a smile. "Trying."