Page 28 of The Defiant Wife

The children exist because this place exists.And that matters more than my feelings.More than my pain.More than my loneliness.

A small smile finally tugs at my lips.Maybe family isn't always the people who raise you.Maybe sometimes it's the people who choose you.And every single day, twenty-seven little humans choose me.

That's enough.

More than enough.

8. LOVE ISN'T ENOUGH

DIYA

The thing about running an NGO is that people assume it's all hugs and happy endings.

They imagine smiling children. Birthday celebrations. School functions. Success stories. And yes, those things exist.

They exist because people work themselves to exhaustion making sure they do.What most people don't see are the budgets.The funding applications.The staff shortages.The endless balancing act between what children need and what you can realistically provide.

Most days I love it.Some days it terrifies me.Today is one of those days.I stare at the spreadsheet in front of me for so long the numbers begin blurring together.

The ceiling fan spins lazily above my head.Outside my office, children laugh somewhere in the courtyard.Inside, my brain feels like it's slowly melting.

I rub my eyes.Then check the document again.The numbers still don't magically improve. Disappointing.A knock sounds against the door.

Before I can answer, it opens. Of course.Veeraj.Who else walks into my office like he pays rent here?

He carries a file under one arm.His sleeves are rolled up.His expression is as serious as always.I don't think I've ever met someone who looks perpetually disappointed by existence.

He places the file on my desk.I immediately don't trust it."What is that?"

"Solutions."

I narrow my eyes."To what?"

"The problems you complained about yesterday."

"Did I ask for solutions?"

"No."

"Then why are there solutions?"

"You had problems."

I groan. He remains entirely unmoved. Robot. Absolute robot.

I flip open the file.For the next several minutes, silence fills the office. The more I read, the more annoyed I become.Not because it's bad.Because it isn't.That's the problem.Everything is annoyingly well thought out.

Volunteer scheduling. Budget restructuring. Supply management. Resource allocation.

It all makes sense.Until I reach one particular section.My eyes stop and I scan it again.

I read it again.

Then a third time.

I finally look up from the file, at him,"What is this?"

Veeraj leans back slightly."The volunteer recommendation."