The Betterhalf

I stepped the room with racing heart. The weight of my saree, the jwellery that I had been carrying the whole day, had now become unbearable. The room was all decorated, petals of roses lying on the bed. A scent of fresh roses lingered all over. The room was dimly lit, the bedside antique lamp being the only source of light. I felt incomplete as if I had left the other half of mine back at home. I was stuck with the sense of incoherence.