After the Wedding Chapter-1

The soft clink of bangles echoed faintly as Divya walked barefoot through the morning light of their small apartment in Mandaveli. Her silk saree from the wedding still hung near the wardrobe, its borders carefully pleated and unused after that one day. Anand, her husband, sat on the edge of the cot, struggling to fix the clasp on his wristwatch.Want help? she asked, tying her wet hair into a bun with a towel.He smiled but shook his head.I’ll manage, he replied, though it took another two minutes.They had been married for less than a month. The early days passed in temple visits, family lunches, and settling small logistics—like who took which shelf, or where to keep her bridal makeup box. Both had jobs, both were tired by night, and yet, they made time for each other with soft gestures.

Divya worked at a recruitment firm that had recently promoted her. She didn’t talk much about the role’s details, but Anand knew she handled some senior clients now. Her voice had a certain clarity when she spoke on work calls, especially in English. Confident, steady.He admired it. And maybe feared it, just a little.

That Sunday, Anand noticed a change. Divya was getting dressed for a short outing a quick client coffee, she’d said. But instead of the heavily traditional saree she usually wore for family events, she wore a light, muted linen saree. The blouse was simple and sleeveless. She pinned nothing. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail.You look different, he said gently.In a good way? Just… new.

She smiled and picked up her keys. On her way out, she asked casually Do you remember how to tie a saree? Me? he laughed. Barely. Amma used to teach my sister. Why? No reason,  she replied, not turning back.

They had one scooty, which Anand usually drove. But that day, she took it.

Want me to drop you at the tea kadai near station? You’re riding? Yes. I need to get used to doing things without depending on weekends.

She didn’t say anything more, but he noticed the ease with which she started the vehicle. She didn’t hesitate at the turn. She didn’t look back.

Anand stood there, still holding his tea glass. His fingers caught the last touch of her fingers on the key.

One evening, as Anand folded clothes, he found a shirt of his hung back inside out. The collar was ironed, but the scent was different. Not his usual sandalwood talc. It had a burnt edge to it like ash, or smoke.

When he asked, Divya casually replied:One of the vendors I met today smokes. Their meeting room was stuffy.

He nodded but found that same scent later that week. Once on her scarf. Once faintly on her lips.They went out to dinner one Friday night. Their first real outing post-marriage. Anand chose the restaurant—an old Chettinad place with tiled floors and banana-leaf service.

But once seated, it was Divya who ordered for them both. She spoke with the waiter firmly. She handled a confused bill issue without looking to Anand.And when the bill came, she instinctively reached for her purse.I’ll pay,” she said.Shall we split? Anand offered.No need. I got this.She smiled, but it wasn’t a gesture seeking approval. It was… final. Like she had already decided. On the scooty ride back, Anand sat silently. She drove.Want to try the bike sometime?” she asked, as they passed a Yamaha showroom. You like bikes? Always wanted to ride one. But Appa didn’t let me. Now who will stop me.