Chapter 27 Distance That Spoke

The next morning began before sunrise.

Veeresh was already dressed, his schedule packed, his phone ringing even before he stepped out. The elections had taken over completely now.

Rallies.

Meetings.

Travel.

Endless voices and expectations.

He left early, his movements quick, his mind already at the ground where people waited, where speeches mattered, where every word could shift power.

Poornima stood at the doorway, watching him leave.

“Take care,” she said softly.

He nodded, just briefly.

And then he was gone.

The house felt different after that.

Quieter.

Larger.

Empty in places she hadn’t noticed before.

Poornima continued her routine.

College.

Classes.

Assignments.

People around her.

But her focus…

Was somewhere else.

In between lectures, her mind drifted.

To him.

To whether he had eaten.

To whether he was tired.

To whether he remembered to rest.

Sometimes, without thinking, she would whisper a small prayer.

Not loudly.

Not even consciously at times.

Just a quiet hope.

“For his victory.”

For his safety.

For everything to go right.

Evening would come.

And she would wait.

Some days, the door would open late at night.

Very late.

Veeresh would walk in, exhaustion written all over him, his shoulders heavy, his eyes tired.

But still, he would come to the room.

And without many words, he would pull her into a hug.

Just for a moment.

Sometimes longer.

Then lie down and fall asleep almost instantly.

Poornima would stay awake a little longer.

Just feeling that he was there.

And somehow…

That was enough.

On other nights, he would not come at all.

Meetings running late.

Travel extending.

Decisions pulling him away.

Those nights felt longer.

Quieter.

She would lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her hand resting where he usually slept.

Missing him.

Without saying it to anyone.

Without even fully admitting it to herself.

Days turned into a pattern.

He moved through crowds.

Through speeches.

Through responsibilities.

While she moved through classes.

Through notes.

Through a life that was slowly becoming hers again.

But in between all of it…

They existed in each other’s spaces.

Without constant words.

Without constant presence.

Yet…

Strongly.

And quietly.

She began to understand something.

She did not need him there every moment.

But when he was not…

She felt it.

And Veeresh…

Even in the loudest rallies, surrounded by thousands of people…

Carried a silence with him.

One that only existed because she was not there.