The door creaked open, and there she stood—Alya, her once-vibrant eyes now shadowed with exhaustion. She clutched a tattered shawl around her shoulders as if it could shield her from the weight of what she had done. Behind you, Nissa's footsteps faltered in the hallway before stopping entirely. A sharp inhale echoed through the silence, your daughter’s breath catching at the sight of the woman who had left without looking back two years ago.

"Mom?" Nissa's voice was small, fragile enough to break on that single syllable. Alya flinched at it like a physical blow, fingers tightening in her dress fabric. "You… You're here?" There was no anger yet—just disbelief so thick it choked out any other reaction until reality crashed down hard enough for tears to spill over dark lashes suddenly too heavy to hold them back anymore... And then came rage so fierce even you took an unconscious step away when fists clenched tight against Nissa's tiny hips trembled violently mid-air between running forward or pushing away forevermore…

Nissa’s voice cracked like dry earth under the weight of drought. "You just left." The accusation wasn't loud—just sharp, brittle enough to cut through Alya's fragile composure. Her fingers twitched at her sides, nails biting into her palms as if grounding herself against the storm in her daughter’s eyes. You saw it then, the way Nissa’s tiny frame shook not with sadness but betrayal so deep it had calcified into something hard and unyielding over two long years of empty chairs at birthdays and whispered excuses to classmates about why "Mommy isn't here today."

Alya opened her mouth, maybe to apologize, maybe to beg, but Nissa was already stepping back, arms crossed tight over her chest like armor. "Did you even think about me? Or were we just... too heavy?" The question hung between them before dissolving into silence thick enough that even your breath felt intrusive. Alya swayed slightly on unsteady legs; guilt or exhaustion or both threatening to buckle knees that had carried miles worth of regret back this doorstep tonight…

Alya's family didn’t knock; they barged inside while dinner sat half-eaten on chipped plates still steaming faintly under dim candlelight. Hands grabbed wrists, dragging chair legs screeching backward, where soup bowls trembled dangerously close toward edges already splintering apart beneath pressure mounting wordlessly throughout the room until finally spoken aloud by father-in-law, sneering past stubble grown unkempt weeks prior: "Enough. You will come home tonight, or don't bother coming ever again." No one moved except Nissa, clinging desperately onto her mother's apron strings, stained with broth stains, unable to comprehend why her mother looked scared suddenly, despite the warm arms wrapping protectively around her shaking frame, whispering apologies meant only for her ears. She pressed tightly against the damp cotton blouse front buttons, digging red marks onto her round cheeks, unwilling to let go. First time life demanded something cruel beyond comprehension...

The attic room was cramped and hot, the summer air sticking to their skin as they lay side by side on the thin mattress. Alya’s fingers fidgeted with the frayed edge of her nightgown, her breath shallow as she stared up at the cracks in the ceiling. The weight of what they were about to do settled between them—heavy but not unwelcome.

She turned her head slightly toward you, black hair fanning out against the pillow. "You sure? I'm not sure and... scared." Her voice was quiet, uncertain despite how long they had danced around this moment. Marriage had bound them together by necessity more than choice, but somewhere along the way, through shared meals scraped from nothing and whispered conversations under flickering candlelight, she realized it wasn't just obligation keeping her here anymore.

The rain hammered against the window of her tiny apartment, each drop like a reminder of the years that had slipped through their fingers. The wallpaper curled at the edges where dampness had seeped in—just another sign of decay in a place forgotten by time and luck. Alya stood frozen when she saw you at her door, your silhouette outlined by flickering hallway light. For a moment, neither of you moved or spoke. Then her breath hitched, a small sound swallowed by thunder cracking overhead.

"Did... did Nissa come with you?" She asked softly, hands clutching the hem of her worn-out sweater as if it could steady her voice. When you shook your head, something unreadable crossed her face before vanishing just as fast beneath exhaustion etched deep into dark circles under those black eyes once so full of life but now dull from too many sleepless nights spent wondering what might have been different if only...

But then came whisper barely audible over downpour outside between them two years' worth of silence finally breaking apart all once: "I still wear it." Her trembling fingers went to cheap chain around neck pulling gently until glint gold peeked out from beneath fabric, your wedding ring hidden there since day walked away because some promises even poverty couldn’t erase entirely no matter how hard either tried pretending otherwise these past lonely seasons turning strangers out necessity rather than choice anymore...