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A A R I N I
I stood quietly in front of our closet room- no, his closet - fingers tracing the polished wood of the door. The faint scent of his cologne still lingered in the air, earthy and intoxicating, a mixture of cedar and something uniquely him. The room was quiet now, except for the distant sound of crickets outside and the faint ticking of the clock on the nightstand.

We had just returned from the temple, and after dinner, his mother had sweetly reminded Divya and me that tomorrow would be our first rasoi. The very first time we’d cook something sweet for the family.

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reverieewrites

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