Chapter 30: True Happiness
Morning returned once again to the village, greeted by a thin layer of dew clinging to the tips of the leaves. The fresh air carried the scent of wet earth and the cheerful songs of small birds. On the porch of a small ivory-white house, Saraswati sat, cradling her now-large belly. Her hand gently stroked it as her eyes gazed into the expanse of green rice fields.
There was no more unrest. No more wounds demanding explanation. What remained now was peace—a feeling she had slowly built from the ruins of her past.
"Morning, Mom."
Amara's now more mature voice made Saraswati turn and smile. The young girl was already dressed in her school uniform and had packed lunch for the children at the community learning center they ran together.
"Morning, dear. Got everything ready?" Saraswati asked.
Amara nodded. "Today, I'm asking the kids to draw their dreams, Mom. Just like you said—every child should have a dream, no matter how small."
Saraswati was moved. Once, all she wanted was to survive. Now, she was helping other children learn to dream. What once seemed like an unhealable wound had slowly turned into a path toward happiness.
Boase appeared from the side of the house, wheeling his old motorbike—still his loyal companion for teaching in the next village.
"Let's take Amara together today," he suggested.
Saraswati chuckled. "Did you forget? I barely fit on the motorbike now. This little one inside is way too active." She gently touched her belly again.
Boase approached, kissed his wife's forehead, and whispered, "Thank you for staying strong, Sar. You are the miracle God sent into my life."
Saraswati nodded softly. "I'm strong because you believed I could be."
***
Meanwhile, elsewhere…
In a small city café, a woman with neatly curled hair and a beige blazer sat alone near the window. Her eyes stared outside, as if searching for something uncertain. That woman was Merry—Boase's former lover. The world moved slowly for her now. She no longer chased career or love. All that remained were memories and pain.
"Hello… Merry?"
A deep voice by the door made her turn. A tall man with sharp eyes approached. It was Rivalo, Arman's old friend who had once secretly loved Saraswati.
Merry furrowed her brow for a moment before recognizing him.
"Rivalo? My God, how many years has it been...?"
"Five, maybe more," Rivalo replied with a thin smile. He sat down without waiting for permission. "You're still as beautiful as ever."
Merry nodded slightly. "And you... still have that same look of quiet resentment."
Rivalo chuckled softly. "I think you do too, Merry. Still can't forgive them, huh?"
Merry's eyes sharpened. "Saraswati took everything from me. Boase, opportunities, even people's sympathy. And she's still seen as the victim—when she knew exactly how to destroy others with her silence."
Rivalo clenched his fist. "She also destroyed my friendship with Arman. He changed after getting close to Saras. I liked that woman once. But she never even looked my way. As if I didn't exist."
Merry leaned toward the table. "Then why don't we make them feel just a glimpse of what it's like to be left behind?"
Rivalo raised his eyebrows. "You want revenge?"
"Not just revenge," Merry said coldly. "I want Saraswati to understand that the happiness she's holding onto can vanish in an instant. Just like what she did to me."
Rivalo smiled bitterly. "I don't believe in cosmic justice. But if you're inviting me to even the score... I'm interested."
They locked eyes. There was no love, no sympathy—only shared wounds that brought them to the same table. Their plan wasn't fully formed yet, but one thing was certain: the past was not finished with Saraswati.
***
Under the scorching midday sun…
Saraswati sat in the modest classroom they had built with the villagers. The village children were learning to read, draw, and explore the world under her guidance. Often, she would reflect on how she once felt utterly rejected by the world—abandoned, belittled, and stripped of hope.
But those days now felt distant.
She had proven one thing: happiness does not come to those who simply wait. It comes to those who keep walking, even if limping. Who embrace their wounds, not to grieve, but to learn. Who love life, even when life is not always kind.
On the classroom wall hung a handwritten quote from Amara:
"Happiness is not when everything is easy, but when we don't give up even when everything is hard."
Saraswati stared at the words for a long time, and tears fell without her realizing. Not out of sadness, but fullness. Full of gratitude.
***
In the golden light of dusk…
After all the children had gone home, Saraswati returned to sit on the porch. The evening sky wrapped their village in warm gold. Boase sat beside her, holding her hand.
"You know, Boase?" she said softly. "I used to wonder if I deserved happiness. But now I realize… happiness isn't about deserving. It's the result of not giving up."
Boase smiled. "And you've come such a long way, Sar. I'm proud of you."
Saraswati nodded, gazing at the beautiful sunset. "I'm proud of myself too. Because I didn't give up. Because I chose to live, to love, and to forgive. And that, to me, is true happiness."
The sky slowly turned to night. In the embrace of the small family she loved, Saraswati knew: she had found her place. And in her heart, she knew, her journey wasn't over—but she had reached an important point.
A point where she could finally say, with peace:
"I am happy. With all the wounds, struggles, and love I carry—I am truly happy."