Every morning, Maya woke up hoping for a message from them, a simple “Hi, Amma,” but her phone remained silent. The ache in her chest had become a constant, a wound that never healed. She spent her days teaching, pouring her love into the children at school, trying to fill the void her own had left behind. But the nights were unbearable. The silence pressed against her, whispering the truths she had tried to ignore—she was trapped.

Then, the dream came.

It was unlike any dream she had before. She stood in front of a mirror, staring at her reflection. But something was wrong. She had no face, no features—just a hollow, empty space where she should have been. Panic clawed at her as she tried to scream, but no sound came out. She turned to the people around her, but no one recognized her. She was invisible, erased.

She woke up gasping for air, her hands shaking. The dream unsettled her, but more than that, it spoke to her. She had lost herself. She had let her husband erase her, let her fear keep her in a prison of her own making. And if she didn’t do something, she would disappear entirely.

The next morning, Maya made a decision.

She called her husband.

“I want a divorce.”

There was silence on the other end before he chuckled. “You’re being ridiculous, Maya.”

“No. I’m not.”

“You don’t have anyone there. You won’t survive without me. Without the kids.”

His words were meant to wound her, to make her second-guess herself. But for the first time, they didn’t. Instead, they fueled her resolve.

“You took them from me,” she said quietly, her voice steady. “You made me believe I was nothing without you. But I know now—that was the worst choice I ever made.”

“You’re making a mistake.” His voice turned sharp. “Think about what you’re doing.”

Maya took a deep breath, gripping the phone tightly. “I did. And the worst mistake wasn’t leaving you.” She exhaled. “It was marrying you.”

She hung up before he could respond, her heart hammering in her chest.

Tears welled in her eyes, but for the first time, they weren’t from pain. They were from relief. She had taken the first step. She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew she wouldn’t be invisible anymore. She would reclaim herself, piece by piece.

And one day, her children would see her for who she truly was—not the woman their father painted her to be, but the strong, fearless mother who had finally broken free.