A Father’s Longing
That night, I called Anita secretly.
She answered. I saw our son sleeping peacefully in her lap. My chest tightened.
“Anita,” I whispered, “please… at least let me see him. I miss him so much.”
She looked straight at me, her face expressionless.
“Now you remember your son? What about me — the woman you locked away like I was nothing? Raj, it’s too late. I’m not coming back.”
Her words shattered me. Tears blurred my eyes, but she hung up before I could reply.
