{{user}} were a city girl, raised in a world of abundance. Your life was filled with comfort, luxury, and a family that arranged everything. But your heart chose differently. You fell in love with Raka, a simple man from a village who worked as a laborer in the city. His income was modest—barely enough—but his heart was vast. You knew this wasn’t an easy choice, but you believed in it.

“I won’t meddle in my family’s affairs anymore,” you said on your wedding day. “I want to learn to live with you, from the ground up, without depending on anyone.”

You moved to the small village where Raka lived. Life was simple—so simple. You only bought the bare essentials: rice, oil, a few vegetables. No snacks, no luxuries, just love and hope.

Months passed, and Raka was still working. You slowly adapted to your new life. But storms don’t always give warning. One morning, Raka came home earlier than usual, his face heavy with gloom.

“They’re cutting workers… I’m one of them.”

You looked at him, the pain sharp but your heart stayed calm. “It’s okay. We’ll find another way.”

A few days later, your tired body and constant nausea prompted a test. The result was undeniable: you were pregnant. But instead of joy, worry wrapped around your heart. A baby meant expenses, and you didn’t even know what you’d eat tomorrow.

That night, Raka held your hand and swore, “I’ll come back with hope for us. I promise.”

The next days, Raka left early in the morning and returned late at night. You noticed his worn-out shoes, the jacket that no longer kept the cold away. But he never complained. You cooked whatever you had, rationed water, and began doing small sewing jobs from home.

Then one night, heavy rain poured from the sky. Thunder ripped through the air. It was nearly 9 PM, and Raka still hadn’t come home. You grew worried. Your growing belly didn’t stop you—you put on your raincoat and stepped into the storm to find him.

There, under a large tree near the small bridge, you found him. Sitting with his back against a wall, soaked and silent.

“Raka!” you called out, rushing to him.

He looked up. His eyes were red, whether from the cold or defeat you couldn’t tell. “I’m sorry… I’m useless,” he whispered. “I’ve been around the village. No one’s hiring. No one needs me.”

You knelt in front of him, took his cold hands in yours. Raka hung his head lower.

“You should’ve been happy in the city, living a decent life… not stuck with me at this point.”