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๐—ฃ๐—ฅ๐—ข๐—Ÿ๐—ข๐—š๐—จ๐—˜

"You are the mother of my children, but not my wife."

The words, though familiar, landed like a blow to Shrutiโ€™s chest. It was the constant, cold mantra of their arrangement. The marriage had been a transaction: his need for a mother for his two young children, and her desperate need for security, a home, and a purpose that outweighed the looming terror of being utterly alone.

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