ANAISHA ✿
​While I was drying my wet hair with a towel, my eyes caught the sight of my sleeping husband in the mirror. My cheeks instantly heated up. Flashes of the reception came to my mind—how firmly he took a stand for me. He protected my right to choose, which even I had forgotten; I didn't need anyone's permission before choosing something for myself or asking before wearing the color that gave me peace and soothed my heart. I had stopped wearing white, maybe because at that time I didn't want to add to the already difficult heart condition of my mother. Or maybe because I was tired and didn't want to see more hatred and disgust in my parents' eyes for myself.
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