Adultery Knowing My Wife, Knowing Me As Well - part III

[Speedy21]

Eagerly waiting for next chapter lots of answer for krish who wins whos loses ......

[amzad2004]

As the 19th Jan. 2025 is approaching I desperately hope that there will be no more sexual adventure between gold digger figure character Meera and sugar daddy figure character Desai. It has became unbearable to witness such incidents so frequently since re-written has been started. It will be highly appreciated if Author Krish is kind enough to shown some mercy on us to exclude such incidents from up coming chapter 50 & 51 i.e. sex sequence between gold digger figure character Meera and sugar daddy figure Desai. The sexual relation between a gold digger and a sugar daddy is one of the most hatred and disgusted relationship in the whole world. It is not the erotic by any means. If the readers look into the incest section they will find the father-daughter sex stories is not popular plot for the same reason. Author Krish should understand the mind set of the general readers and improve his diverse writing skill. I want to suggest him to not to write on this plot any more as a fan of his high skill writing. I humbly request him to write part -4 on the new plot where Meera will flirt with teen age neighbor/ teen age nephew of hers or Krish's/ 25-27 years aged colleague of hers/ Krish's if possible. There must be only fun not engaging any emotional attachment. Hope that Author Krish will kind enough to consider it.

[apsingh]

Waiting

[abhinay67]

update plz

[Paty@123]

Plz update today sir

[amzad2004]

I am afraid that we are not going to be seen the update today.

[bineeshm]

Dearest Krish,
You promised an update today. As the long weekend (waiting for your update) comes to an end I request you to post the latest update ASAP, so we can curse Desai / Meera / Krish / You, get over the heartbreak (hopefully) by morning and get to our work.
Love!

[RCF]

Dearest Krish,
You promised an update today. As the long weekend (waiting for your update) comes to an end I request you to post the latest update ASAP, so we can curse Desai / Meera / Krish / You, get over the heartbreak (hopefully) by morning and get to our work.
Love!

Haha every one ready to curse all characters. True, Krish_999 always surprises with his updates, I won't be shocked if he writes as if Meera loves Susheel now and she reveals it to Krish this chapter...which obviously will be with ulterior motives. Every chapter will be thought and written to only surprise readers so there will be more speculations. I have seen this pattern with all his stories.

[DeanWinchester00007]

Fingers Cross , May love wins in the end Meera     Desai     

Next update is gonna be so brutal . 

[krish_999]

Chapter – 50

 
The silence in the house was unbearable. I sat on the balcony outside the hall, staring blankly at the street below. Meera and Desai had left half an hour ago, but their presence lingered, like a shadow behind me. The words they spoke and the expressions they shared with each other played over and over in my mind, but trying to make sense of it felt useless – like trying to catch water with my hands.
I wanted to leave, to escape the suffocating stillness, but I couldn’t. The door was locked, and Nidhi had the key. She also had my phone, leaving me with no way to reach out or distract myself.
I let out a bitter laugh. I was trapped – not just in this apartment, but in my own thoughts. When I decided to watch Meera and Desai, I thought I could handle it. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
Time dragged painfully. I walked back to the room, frustration building under my skin. I tried to force open the front door, pulling the handle, but it didn’t budge. Yet, the real weight wasn’t the lock; it was the consequences of my choices. Thinking about my future left me confused; thinking about my past left me angry.
I wandered around the house with no real purpose, feeling caught in a void, unsure of what to do next.
 
Then, the sound of the door opening from the outside caught my attention. A few seconds later, I saw Nidhi entering the house. Relief and irritation mixed in my chest as I watched her. Her face was calm, but there was a sense of curiosity in her expression. She glanced at me, then scanned the apartment before her eyes returned to mine.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, her tone neutral at first, then turning curious. “Is everything okay?”
I didn’t answer. Words felt useless, too small to describe the chaos inside me.
Nidhi gave me a strange smile, her eyes sparkling with curiosity – maybe even excitement. It felt like she wanted to pick apart every detail, as if she couldn’t wait to hear the story.
I stood there, my emotions a complete mess – anger, frustration, betrayal. It wasn’t just about Meera and Desai anymore. It was everything, all at once, crashing down on me. The weight of it made me want to scream, to smash something, to let it all out. But I didn’t. I just stood there, frozen.
 
“So?” Nidhi asked, her voice eager. “What happened, Krish? Tell me.”
I didn’t want to answer. How could I? But her expectant, insistent gaze pinned me in place, making it hard to ignore her. I felt embarrassed, afraid of being humiliated when she found out the truth.
“Did you see them?” she pressed, her smile widening. “How did it happen? What did you feel?”
Each question cut deeper, leaving me hollow. My heart raced, and my breath felt shallow. I wanted to tell her to stop, to leave me alone, but no words came out.
“I…” I started, but the sentence crumbled before it could form.
“You’re not saying you don’t want to tell me, are you?” she said, her smile sharpening. “You watched them, didn’t you?”
“I saw… I saw everything,” I finally said, clearing my throat to continue. “Everything.”
Nidhi’s eyes gleamed at my admission, and she stepped closer. Her gaze flicked to my lips before returning to my eyes. For a brief moment, it felt like she was waiting, daring me to say more.
“What did they do? You’ll tell me, won’t you?” she asked softly, but her voice held a demand – it was clear she needed to know.
“Yeah, I can tell you…” I started, then paused to take a deep breath. “They were…” I paused again, glancing towards the bedroom before turning back to Nidhi. “They enjoyed it. I mean… a lot.”
 
I saw Nidhi’s eyes sparkling with excitement. I was slightly surprised that she wasn’t trying to hide it. Her curiosity made it clear she’d been waiting for this moment. I realized that, apart from the brief moments before and after Meera and Desai’s time in this house, I had been so absorbed in the situation that I’d lost track of time. It had been more than three hours. Nidhi must have been waiting for those three hours to pass, eager to learn what had happened inside these four walls. It had likely been a tedious wait for her.
“Where were you, by the way?” I asked. “Were you waiting outside the building? Didn’t you go back to the office?”
“Leave that, Krish,” Nidhi interrupted, her eyes locked on mine. “Tell me, what do you mean by 'they enjoyed'? How? What did you see? Did you see it with your own eyes?”
Her eyes were more impatient than her words, and they seemed to slip out of her grasp more often than she could hold them. Her hands shook slightly, betraying her nervousness.
“Take a breath, Nidhi,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips without meaning to. Her curious face and nervous mannerisms suddenly eased my mind. “Why are you acting so nervous?”
Nidhi stared at me in disbelief. “Am I nervous? Yes, I’m nervous. But how the hell – pardon my language – are you not nervous? Don’t tell me you watched it and enjoyed it all too.”
“Why? Can’t I enjoy?” I asked. “Why should they be the only ones having fun?”
“So they had fun!” she said, her voice sharp.
She bit her lip and looked toward the rooms. Her gaze shifted between the doors, trying to process everything.
“They slept in that room,” I said, pointing to the master bedroom.
Nidhi glanced at the room, her curiosity almost tangible.
“Can I see?” she asked without looking at me, and before I could answer, she began walking toward the door. She pushed it open and stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room. I followed, standing behind her and looking over her shoulder. The bed was untouched, the lack of sheets or any cloth on it making me wonder if Nidhi would refuse to believe it. The bed looked intact – there was no evidence of what had happened between Desai and my wife.
Nidhi took a few steps inside and stopped a short distance from the bed.
“In this bed?” She turned her head to look at me.
I nodded. “Hard to believe?”
“No,” Nidhi said quietly. “I can smell him here.”
It took me a moment to process what she said and realize she meant him – Desai. I was stunned.
“How?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“His… you know…” Nidhi hesitated, but I was already taking a deep breath, trying to make sense of what she was saying. It was then that I noticed it – the lingering scent. There was a distinct smell in the air. The smell of cum, still hanging in the room. Desai had filled my wife with his cum twice and made her climax three times. I had been so caught up in the chaos of the situation that I hadn’t realized it before. But now, with Nidhi’s words, the scent became undeniable. The smell of him. The smell of her. The scent of them together – it was all there, thick in the air.
“Yeah, I didn’t notice that,” I said, my voice thick. “Meera was… screaming. Crying with pleasure. After a while, I couldn’t hear or smell anything.”
It was more than I ever thought I would witness.
Nidhi’s eyes locked onto mine, her excitement growing.
“Did you watch them? Where were you hiding?”
She asked, her voice low and almost eager.
I hesitated, but her relentless stare left me no way out. “I was hiding under the bed,” I admitted, the words spilling out like a confession. “They started on the bed. I couldn’t see much at first because they were on it. Then they moved to the bathroom. And finally, here...” I gestured toward the couch, my voice dropping. “That’s when I saw everything clearly.”
Nidhi’s eyes followed my every gesture, her curiosity sharpened. She wanted more, perhaps hoping to hear every detail from me.
“Did Desai sir make Meera mam hit her peak?” she asked slowly. The tenderness in her voice felt like an attempt to soften the question, but her curiosity was impossible to silence.
“You don’t already know the answer to that?” I asked, my voice tinged with frustration. I wanted her to remember how she had surrendered to Desai’s charms, unaware of the way he had manipulated her. For a brief moment, I hoped it would make her reconsider Meera’s actions – based on her own experiences, perhaps. I wanted it to take away some of the sting of knowing that my wife had been with a man superior to me.
Nidhi’s lips curled into a small, almost amused smile. “Yeah, I can’t forget how it felt when I was with him,” she said softly, her voice low and filled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. She inhaled deeply, “I can still remember the smell.”
She stepped closer to the bed, as if examining it, and I followed. I could feel the heat radiating from her, my pulse quickening. The back of my hand brushed against hers, sending a jolt through me. Nidhi was completely absorbed in what she was looking at, her gaze fixed on the bed. I too looked at the spot she was staring at. There were dried drops on it, and I knew exactly what they were. It was the same place where I had seen Desai’s dick going in and out of Meera’s pussy. The dried spots of his cum – or hers – brought it all back. I could hear Meera’s moans echoing in my mind. I wondered if I should tell Nidhi what I had witnessed, but I hesitated. My mouth parted, about to speak, but instead of revealing more, I asked something else.
“Do you want to sit there?”
Nidhi turned to look at me, and I saw something shift in her – an intensity that pulled me in. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She seemed lost, uncertain of how to make sense of what she was feeling.
“You can sit if you want,” I said, my voice shaky. “It’s okay.” I held my breath, trying to sound unaffected. “It’s your first time, I guess. Being in someone else’s bedroom. Just like this… There’s a thrill attached to it, isn’t there?”
Nidhi nodded and then bit her lip. “I feel strange,” she admitted, her eyes returning to the bed. Her hand shifted, brushing against my arm. My chest tightened. The way she looked, the way she breathed – it was all too much. The pull between us was magnetic, undeniable, but neither of us made a move. I stayed where I was, letting our skin touch, the connection electric.
 
“Nidhi…” I finally spoke. In the same instant, my hand seemed to move on its own, reaching out to gently grasp hers. She turned toward me, her eyes searching mine, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a crack in her armor – a raw vulnerability she quickly tried to conceal. But it was too late; I had already seen it, and it struck me like a spark in a dry forest. We were lost in each other’s eyes.
She didn’t step back. Instead, she leaned in ever so slightly, as though testing the tension between us. I could feel her breath now – shallow and quick – and it mirrored the chaos inside me. Her fingers clasped mine, and our grip tightened instinctively. Neither of us wanted to pull away.
It was her eyes that broke the staring contest we were locked in. For a brief moment, her gaze dropped to my lips before flicking back to meet mine. That fleeting glance was enough to tip me over the edge. My chest tightened, my pulse thundered in my ears, and I knew I couldn’t hold back any longer.
Without thinking, I closed the distance between us and kissed her. It wasn’t planned, nor was it controlled – it was raw, impulsive, and driven by an overwhelming pull I couldn’t resist. I swallowed her lips with an urgent desire to quench a thirst I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying.
 
The kiss deepened quickly, fueled by the raw energy between us. It wasn’t just a kiss – it was an explosion, a release of everything we’d been holding back. Frustration, jealousy, and a desire I hadn’t allowed myself to feel until now came crashing together, drowning out everything else.
Nidhi responded with equal intensity, her hands sliding up my chest and pulling me closer. Her body pressed against mine, the space between us vanishing, replaced by a heat so overwhelming it was hard to breathe. As I sucked her lower lip into my mouth, I felt her upper lip meet mine with the same fiery intensity.
It felt like every unspoken word, every hidden emotion, had led us to this moment. The voice in my head telling me to stop faded into nothing. There was no past, no future – just this, the undeniable connection consuming us.
I kissed her harder, my hands gripping her waist as though holding onto her would anchor me in the chaos. She melted into me, her body soft yet electric, surrendering completely to the energy crackling between us. I felt her tongue searching for mine, and without thinking, I paused, then opened my mouth to meet her halfway. Our tongues tangled, slick and desperate.
“Take me, Krish,” she whispered against my lips, her voice low and urgent, carrying a need that sent a shiver down my spine.
Her words unlocked something deep inside me, unleashing a surge of raw, uncontrollable energy. Without a second thought, I pulled her toward the bed, our lips still locked, our hands moving with frantic urgency. We fell onto the mattress, the world spinning as my senses drowned in her – her warmth, her touch, the way she clung to me as though trying to erase any space between us.
I kissed her everywhere, driven by an overwhelming need to feel every inch of her. The frustration, the anger, the confusion – all of it dissolved in the heat of the moment, in the chaos of our bodies meeting. Suddenly, this girl was my entire focus, and the weight of everything else disappeared.
As she lay stretched across the bed, her body arched in a way that sent a shiver through me. She was lying exactly like how Meera had been lying on it a few hours ago. The realization hit me like a sensation, and I felt I was being drawn into this by my fate. Earlier in the day, my cheating wife had been lying in this bed under another man, and now I was the cheating husband, lying over another woman on the same bed.
Like she had accepted another man to replace me, it was now my turn to replace her with another woman in bed.
It was Nidhi.


A small voice inside me whispered for me to stop, to pull back before we crossed a line we couldn’t return from. But the primal urge was too strong – the need to give in, to lose myself completely in this connection.
I kissed her harder, deeper, and tried to overcome my hesitations. Nidhi’s hand was all over me, her fingers intruding into my hair. I broke the kiss soon, only to drop my lips down to her neck. I didn’t hesitate to suppress my hunger, and I licked her skin, making Nidhi gasp for air. Then I dropped myself further down, bringing my lips onto her breasts, kissing over her shirt to feel the softness. As I dropped further, moving over her thin fabric, both of my hands moved to her chest and caressed her breasts over the clothes. As my lips found her belly, Nidhi grabbed her shirt to pull its lower hem from inside the pants. She pulled it enough to reveal her belly, and my next kiss was straight on her navel. It was soft, and her belly was throbbing with anticipation of my touch. Her navel button was a small pit, and I darted my tongue into it before licking it all over. I inserted my right hand under the shirt she was pulling up, and I soon met her bra cup. I pushed even further to invade her bra cup from the lower side, and soon I felt the whole of her softness under my grasp. Her breast was not as big and round as Meera’s, but it had a tenderness that came with her young age. However, the erection of her tit was easily recognizable. Nidhi was aroused like hell.
“Krish… take me.” I heard her whisper again. Her voice carried even more urgency and vulnerability. She wanted me to take her sooner than it was going to happen.
I pulled my hand back from her breast and quickly started unbuttoning her pants. I then pulled them down with the same sense of urgency. I didn’t get up as I did that; instead, I dropped to my knees and pulled her pants all the way down to remove them from her legs. I struggled a bit to take the tapered end of the pants off her ankles. By the time I pulled the pants off her completely, Nidhi had already inserted her thumbs inside her yellow panties, as if asking me to pull them off too. I didn’t hesitate to appreciate her gesture and pulled them off with remarkable ease. Before I knew it, I was kneeling on the floor by the edge of the bed, and my head was ready to get buried between her open legs. My hands trembled as they traced the curve of her waist, and I could already anticipate the moment when I would be gripping them tight and pushing my dick into her pussy.
I leaned down, my breath uneven, and her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, urging me on. My mind was lost in it, and I let myself get lost in the moment as my head went down. Nidhi’s moans rose, and I felt her whole body throbbing under my touch. I felt a sour taste in my mouth. For some time, I lost track of my actions, time, place, and everything.
Everything was a blur. And during that blur, suddenly, the memories of how Desai had subjected my wife to the same pleasure earlier in the day came back to my head.
Why?
I heard a question inside my head. Then, like a lightning bolt cutting through the darkness, a sharp clarity struck me. It was my own voice, loud and clear, breaking through the fog.
Stop. This was too far. This wasn’t right.
I pulled away abruptly, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my heart pounding in my chest.
Nidhi’s gaze met mine, her expression a mix of confusion and hurt. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came.
“I – I’m sorry,” I stammered, my voice shaky. “We can’t do this.”
My hands trembled as I stood up, stepping back. A heavy sense of wrongness washed over me. I felt like I’d crossed a line I shouldn’t have, like I was repeating the same mistakes all over again.
“We shouldn’t do this, Nidhi. I mean… we’ll complicate things and find it hard to face each other… tomorrow,” I managed to say.
Nidhi’s eyes flickered with disappointment, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain any more. I didn’t even know how to make sense of what had just happened. The weight of my actions pressed down on me, guilt and confusion swirling together, leaving me feeling lost.
 
Nidhi quickly grabbed her pants that lay next to her and sat up. She was still breathing heavily, as if struggling to get out of the world that I had dragged her into. She didn’t speak at first, just stared at me, as if trying to piece it all together.
I stood frozen, waiting for her anger, her frustration, or even her disappointment to surface. But instead, she took a deep breath, steadying herself, and then nodded slowly.
“You’re right,” she said softly, her voice calm but resolute. “I understand.”
Her words were a huge relief. Whatever admiration I had for her multiplied instantly. She had the heart to acknowledge that our boundaries were not to be crossed, no matter how tempting the situations were.
 
We didn’t speak for a moment, just stood there in the heavy silence that followed, neither of us sure of how to navigate the next steps. We didn’t face each other either. Nidhi slowly began to wear her clothes, and I exited the room. She went to the washroom and then came out perfectly dressed, back in her office getup.
We maintained the silence as we left the apartment. The ride back to the office was quiet, the tension still hanging in the air, but somehow more manageable now. We had a mutual understanding, a silent agreement not to let things spiral out of control.


When we arrived at the office, Nidhi was the first to break the silence. She stood by my desk, her eyes soft yet resolute.
“I want to thank you,” she said, her voice steady but with a hint of gratitude. “For stopping before things got out of control.”
I nodded, unable to form a response that felt adequate.
“I also think…” she hesitated, then continued, “I also prefer our friendship.” Her smile returned, though this one felt different – softer. “We can share more with each other that way, without complicating things.”
Her words grounded me. A surge of relief washed over me, followed by a feeling of pride that she understood what I was trying to protect. Without thinking, I stood up and pulled her into a hug. She hesitated for just a second before wrapping her arms around me, and for a moment, everything seemed to fall back into place.
“I’m happy you understand, Nidhi,” I whispered, my voice full of sincerity. “I’m glad we’re still on the same page.”
She pulled back slightly, her smile now genuine.
“Me too, Krish. Me too.”
After she exited my office, I sat alone there, leaning back in my chair. The visuals of Nidhi’s face, her eyes, the way she moved, kept flashing before my eyes, each one a searing reminder of what had almost happened. For a few minutes, my mind was far from the memory of my wife’s nonstop mating with her lover, and it was stuck back at the house, reliving every moment in vivid detail.


I hadn’t allowed myself to fully process it earlier, but now the memories were flooding back, sharp and unrelenting. I remembered how Nidhi looked at me when I removed her panty. Her eyes were filled with an urge to see what I was up to, how I was going to treat her. And then, when I parted her legs and lowered my eyes into her pussy. How I grabbed her thighs and pulled her waist closer to the edge of the bed, and then how I landed a soft kiss on her pussy, which soon turned into an attack on her wetness. Her pussy lips were thin, and as I ran my tongue over them, Nidhi let out a noisy moan, telling me how much she was awakened by my touch. There was a tiny black mole on the right side of the lips, and it looked cute. I had licked over it just for fun, and Nidhi let out a small giggle due to the tickling touch. But the most vocal response was when my tongue traced up along the slit to find the clit – it was like a small hump – and started to tease it with my tongue tip. The grip on my hair tightened, telling me where I should lick more. And I did, making her moan again and again. I remembered how the wetness started to ooze out of her, and I slurped it every now and then. Soon I was everywhere, from licking the clit to sucking the lips to eating the whole pussy with my mouth open. The sound of her gasps, her moans, was filling the room, and I was completely lost in the pleasure of tasting her until her body started trembling. Everything had become a blur at that moment, but now it was all coming back to me. How she was crying in pleasure, and how I tasted a sourness which at the moment I madly devoured as if it were sweet, and how her whole body had throbbed with insane pleasure. She had come. Nidhi had received an orgasm, just by my licking her. It had indeed gone to the territory of no return for her. And that explained the way she struggled to come out of those moments when I stopped everything. The tired look in her eyes, and the sense of satisfaction marred by disappointment that followed, everything suddenly came back to my mind.
Indeed, she was glad that I had stopped.
But she had gotten some pleasure.
I laughed to myself when I thought how I had placed my hands on her hips, ready to pull her closer, to lose myself entirely. But luckily, something inside me had screamed for me to stop.


Thinking about the present, I was glad that I had stopped, without permanently hurting my relationship with her. If I had sex with her, I was sure it would have just been the beginning. I would be seeing her every day in my office. And she would be ready. Every day, every meeting, every gesture, every thought of each other, would lead to nothing but sex.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my desk and burying my face in my hands. The weight of what had happened – and what could have happened – pressed down on me.
Then I heard a question from within.
Was that the real reason, or the only reason for my withdrawal?
No. There was also a sense of guilt that had been growing inside me from the moment I touched Nidhi. It was there until it burst outside of me.
The sound of footsteps in the corridor snapped me out of my thoughts, and I quickly straightened up, forcing my mind back to the present. But the memory of that moment, of Nidhi and everything that had happened at the house, stayed with me, refusing to fade.
I didn’t feel the urge to continue working. But I couldn’t do anything about it either. I continued sitting in my office, avoiding any human interruptions, lost in my thoughts. The hum of the fluorescent lights seemed to amplify the silence. I felt like I was trapped in a loop of my own making, a maze of thoughts that twisted and turned with no clear exit. The memory of what had happened with Nidhi was fresh, vivid – a haunting reminder of the line I had crossed. But even as I tried to process it, my mind kept circling back to Meera and Desai.


I tried to make sense of myself, but the more I thought about it, the more confused I became. Why did I feel guilt when I got intimate with women like Maithrei and Nidhi, yet feel a strange sense of excitement when Meera found pleasure with Desai? If Meera could enjoy sex with Desai, shouldn’t I also be able to explore intimacy with other women without feeling this way?
But the truth was something else – I had kept my encounters hidden from Meera, all while spying on her to uncover what she was doing. The contradiction in my actions was glaring, yet I couldn’t fully grasp it. I felt like a stranger to my own character, caught between conflicting desires, emotions, and a deep sense of hypocrisy I couldn’t ignore. Of course, I was a hypocrite who wanted to keep secrets but yearned to take pleasure in knowing every secret of my wife.
My mind soon shifted to the possibility that Meera would soon be sharing another ‘secret’ of her life – how she met Desai and slept with him behind my back.
I wondered how I should react when Meera confessed to me about it. I wondered how she would confess. Would she seek forgiveness? The thought seemed absurd. Why should she ask for forgiveness?
I leaned back in my chair, letting my thoughts take over.
What would I have done if Meera had told me, openly, that Desai wanted to meet her at Alpine Heights? Would I have stopped her? The answer came quickly, uncomfortably.
No, I wouldn’t have stopped her.


I would have let her go. More than that, I would have wanted to watch. The realization settled heavily in my chest, a knot of conflicting emotions tightening in my stomach.
I imagined them together, right in front of me, and felt the familiar pull of desire. If I could strip away the emotional weight, the jealousy, the possessiveness, I knew I would want to see them again. But that was the problem – the emotional part couldn’t just be removed. It clung to me, a constant reminder of the pain and confusion tangled up in my feelings for Meera.
And yet, there was a strange sense of clarity now, one I hadn’t felt before. Nidhi had given me a chance to vent my frustrations, to unload the chaos that had been building inside me. And the way I managed to stop it midway, to assert some control over my impulses, was a revelation. It gave me a glimmer of hope, a sense that perhaps I could navigate these murky waters, these conflicting desires, with a little more self-awareness.
 
I thought about Meera. It was clear she craved Desai, not just for pleasure, but for the freedom he represented. He gave her the escape from her structured, high-pressure life that I couldn't. He offered her something I hadn't – the freedom to breathe, to feel unburdened by ambition and responsibility.
I couldn't deny it anymore. Desai was her release, the key to a pleasure I had failed to provide. I remembered how she had screamed with pleasure, cried in ways I never had the privilege of seeing with me. Each memory of those moments was a painful reminder of my failure, of how I had taken her for granted.
The more I thought about it, the clearer it became – I wasn't just failing her; I was holding her back. She had gone to Alpine Heights to feel free, to escape the suffocating weight of my presence, my constant surveillance. Her heart was beating to a different rhythm, a rhythm I had ignored for too long.
Before the hurt became irreparable, before regret consumed me, I knew what I had to do.
Meera and I had shared great moments of passion, but those moments had run their course. It was time to let go. She deserved to find her own fulfilment, to live without the weight of my insecurities. And I deserved the same – to rebuild, to figure out who I was without her, to embrace the unknown.
The decision settled in me; it was not an easy one but a necessary one.
We needed to part ways.
We needed to part ways for the sake of both of us.
 
 
When I reached home that evening, the weight of the day hung heavy on my shoulders. The exhaustion from the whole day’s events was pressing down on me. But as soon as I stepped inside, I knew something was wrong.
Meera was sitting on the couch, her face buried in her hands, her body trembling.
"Meera?" I called softly, my voice laced with concern.
She looked up slowly, her eyes red and swollen. It was clear she had been crying for hours. Her lips quivered as if she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.
I sat with her, my heart already pounding in my chest. "What happened?"
For a long moment, she just stared at me, her expression a mix of guilt and pain. Then, in a voice so soft I almost didn’t hear it, she whispered, "I met him."
There she was. I didn’t need to ask who she meant.
"At Alpine Heights," she continued, her voice trembling. "I... I slept with him."
For a moment, I didn’t move. I just stood there, trying to guess what made her confess.
It was nothing like what I had feared earlier in the day. I had feared that she would confess to me to make me attracted to the idea. But here, I saw a woman who was deeply in pain, in remorse. Her tears were real, just like the night after the concert.
I remembered how she had told Desai she wanted to confess to me but was scared of it. I felt she was confessing for her, not for Desai.
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. My voice was cold. "Why not keep it to yourself?"
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes again. "I couldn’t. I couldn’t hide it from you, Krish. I felt guilty. I had to tell you."
I exhaled sharply, fully knowing the futility of her confession. I wanted to scream, to shout, but I didn’t. "And now?" I asked, my voice quieter. "Do you feel any better?"
"No," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I feel worse."
And then she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Her cries were so raw, so filled with regret, that it almost seemed like the world was crumbling around me.
"I love you, Krish," she sobbed, her voice muffled by her hands. "I love you so much. I want to promise I don’t want to do this again. I’m sorry."
Her words cut deep, a mix of guilt and vulnerability that twisted inside me. I wanted to comfort her, to tell her everything would be okay, but I knew it wouldn’t be.
"I’m sorry," she cried, her voice shaking. "I’m sorry for everything. For being distant, for questioning your proposal about having children... I was wrong, Krish. So wrong... I... Krish, I want to be the mother of your child," she said through her tears, her voice full of desperation. "I want us to have a child, Krish. I want us to move forward, to leave everything behind... just be us."
Her hand reached for mine, trembling as it touched my skin. Her eyes searched mine, pleading for something – anything. Forgiveness, maybe, or just an answer.
But at the same time, a chilling thought suddenly surfaced – an unsettling possibility that I immediately wished to push away.
Could there be something worse than this?
I replayed the events at Alpine Heights in my mind, her gaze locked on Desai, her body and mind seemingly consumed by him. Then, a memory from those moments resurfaced – a moment when she had asked him to give her a child. At the time, I had dismissed it as nothing more than roleplay, a fantasy in the heat of the moment. But now, as I sat here, hearing her talk about wanting our child, doubt began to creep in.
What if she hadn’t taken the pill? What if...
My fists clenched involuntarily, my nails digging into my palms. I hated myself for even letting the thought take root, but it wouldn’t leave me.
“Did you take the pill after... after you were with Desai?”
I asked. Meera’s expression froze. Her tears stopped mid-flow, her eyes widening in shock. For a moment, she looked as if I had struck her.
“What?”
“You heard me,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Did you take the pill after you had sex with him?”
She blinked rapidly, as if trying to process the question. Then, she nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I took the pill.”
I thought her answer would give me relief. But instead, the fact that I had to ask this question, that this doubt had even taken root in my mind, felt like a wound that might never heal.
Meera looked at me, her eyes pleading. “Krish, I wouldn’t...” she started, her voice faltering. “I wouldn’t do that.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The distance between us, once just a subtle rift, suddenly felt far wider.
Meera took a deep breath, as if gathering courage. “When I said I wanted a child, I meant our child, Krish. Yours and mine.”
 
For a moment, I forced myself to believe her words. I felt the tension in my shoulders easing slightly, and a flicker of hope igniting within me. I wanted to lose myself in the idea that we could start over, that the wounds we had inflicted on each other could somehow heal.
But then, like a reflex, reality snapped back into focus. The weight of everything we had done, everything we had become, was too much to ignore.
I took a deep breath, pulling my hand away from hers. “Meera,” I began, my voice steady but heavy. “We can’t stop this now.”
“What?” Meera stared at me. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice broken.
“Like you, I have a secret to share,” I said, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “I’ve been holding this in for too long, and it’s time you knew.”
Her expression froze, and after taking a deep breath, I spoke.
“I had sex with Maithrei,” I said, my voice calm but deliberate. “It happened weeks ago.”
Meera stared at me for a few seconds, as if trying to figure out whether I was just making it up. Then she asked, “When? And how?”
“It was after you slept with Desai, on the night of Ritu's wedding,” I said, my voice rough with the weight of the confession. “I was frustrated, angry, hurt. And then… I ran into Maithrei. One thing led to another, and we ended up in my car. We had sex.”
Meera stared at me, her face pale, her eyes wide with disbelief. “In your car?” she repeated.
“Yes,” I said, gathering the courage to be more honest. “And to be honest, it was a satisfying experience. It gave me an outlet for everything I was feeling at the time.”
“Did you meet her again?”
“No,” I said truthfully. “But I can’t say it won’t happen again. Because today, when I found out that you and Desai were meeting at Alpine Heights, I was frustrated. That frustration… it almost led me to have sex with Nidhi.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a gasp. “Nidhi?” she whispered, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. But then, the realization hit her, and her eyes filled with another kind of horror. “You knew?” she asked, disbelief dripping from her words. “You knew about Desai and me at Alpine Heights?”
I nodded. “I knew,” I said. “Two days ago, you left your laptop here, and I saw your chat with him, planning the meeting, before you deleted the chat history. I’ve known all along.”
Meera was stunned. She grabbed the armrest of the couch for support. The silence that followed was deafening, filled only with the sound of her shallow breaths and the ticking of the clock, counting down the moments of our unraveling.
I drew in a shaky breath, gathering the courage to say what I knew I had to.
“And Meera,” I said, “After today, I’ve decided that we need to part ways. For both our sakes.”
She was on the verge of crying again as soon as she heard me. “Krish, no – ”
“I’ve made my decision,” I interrupted, repeating myself. “We need to part ways. For both our sakes.”
“No,” Meera shook her head, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Her voice broke as she spoke further, “Don’t make that decision, Krish. Please.”
Her tears came harder now, her shoulders slumping as she buried her face in her hands. “I know I’ve hurt you,” she sobbed. “And I know your reasons make sense. But… I don’t want to leave you. I love you, Krish. I love you more than anything.”
Her tears were making me soft. But I knew this was the right decision – the only way to move forward.
“Meera, I believe you. I believe you love me. But love isn’t always enough. Desai loves you too, and he’s better suited for you. He’s the man who can give you everything you want.”
She looked up at me. “Don’t say that,” she cried, shaking her head. “You’re wrong. I don’t want Desai. I want you.”
“Meera, Desai is a changed man. I’ve seen it. He can give you the happiness and freedom you need – the kind of life I haven’t been able to offer.”
“I don’t care about any of that!” she exclaimed. “I care about you. About us.”
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to hold my ground. “Desai can offer you everything, Meera. He’s the one who truly deserves to be your man. Not me.”
“You’re wrong. You’re so, so wrong. There’s no one else for me, Krish. I don’t want a life with Desai. I want a life with you.”
“Meera, you need to open your eyes and see the truth,” I said firmly. “Our life together has hit rock bottom. Your body and your mind – they’re craving Desai. You want more of him. Don’t deny it.”
“That’s not true; you’re the one I want. You’ve always been the one I’ve wanted. Desai was… he was just a game. A game that we played together, wasn’t it?”
“Meera, you’re lying to yourself. I’ve seen how he makes you feel. I’ve heard it. You don’t need to pretend for my sake. Just go to him.”
“Krish, tell me the real reason. Why are you suddenly leaving me? I’ve slept with many men in the past. With and without your permission. Ashish, remember him? You didn’t have this much of a problem back then. But now, you’ve jumped to this decision without even talking to me? Why, Krish? Why are you doing this? Is it because of Maithrei? Fine! You slept with her! I don’t care! I just don’t care anymore!”
“It’s not about Maithrei, and you know it.”
“What do I know?”
“Everything changed since the night of the concert, Meera. I heard your conversation with Desai. The way you enjoyed… I mean, the way he’s given you pleasure… your bond. I can’t replicate that. I can’t match that.”
“But that was months ago. We’ve talked about how he forced me and how I was lured by the memories of our past. But you’re holding on to something that happened months ago?”
"It wasn’t just that night," I pressed, my voice growing firmer. "The night of Ritu’s wedding, when you went to his room – I had bugged that room, Meera. I heard every word you said to him."
She stared at me.
“I had a feeling that you would do that. But I wasn’t sure.”
“You didn’t know it when you were having sex. Your emotion was honest. From that night, I knew you’d love to do it again.”
“But you had masturbated that night, probably listening to the sounds. You were excited. If you have a problem, you should’ve told me to stop. But you can’t stop yourself – that’s the truth,” she said bitterly.
“Yes, I can’t stop. This is me now trying to stop,” I said.
“Is this another experiment of yours? We’ve tried to separate already, Krish.”
“But this time it’s different. Your heart belongs to someone else. It doesn’t belong to me anymore.”
“You’re fucking wrong,” she cried, her voice cracking. “You’re so, so wrong. There’s no one else for me, Krish. I don’t want a life with Desai. I want a life with you.”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm raging inside me. “Meera, I wish I could believe that. But I can’t. Not after everything I’ve seen and heard. The way you laugh with him, the way you light up around him... I’ve never seen you like that with me. And I can’t live with the doubt anymore. I can’t live with the ghost of him in our marriage.”
“I don’t care about him!” she shouted. “I care about you! About us! Desai was... he was a game that we played. We agreed to play because we both liked the game. Now, if you want to stop, then let’s stop it. We can draw lines… we can keep him away. Please…”
I looked at her, my heart breaking all over again. “But today, you met him secretly; you even wanted to hide it from me. I don’t know what changed afterward, but why did you hide it from me in the first place?”
“Because... I didn’t want you to be excited about it.”
“And now? You wanted me to be excited about it? Is this part of a plan that you made with him?”
“I confessed because after it happened, I felt bad. I felt like I stabbed you in the back.”
“Meera, leave the confession part. It happened because of a reason. Let’s not deviate from that. You can’t deny it, the truth. You wanted him. You still want him.”
Meera shook her head and covered her face with her palms. She was crying again. She leaned forward and dropped to the floor, her knees giving way beneath her. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered. “How did I not see this? How did I not know this much was happening around me?”
I knelt in front of her. “Because you didn’t want to see it. Neither of us did. But we can’t keep pretending, Meera. You and Desai... you bring out something in each other that I never could. And honestly, I can’t stop my own messed-up fantasies either. If we want peace, a real chance at happiness, we have to let this go.”
She looked up at me, her tear-streaked face filled with anguish. “I don’t want this,” she shouted. “I don’t want to lose you, Krish.”
I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. “You already have.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and final. I stood up, feeling like the weight of the world was pressing down on my shoulders.
 
Meera sat there on the floor, her sobs echoing in the silence. The weight of her pain filled the room, pressing down on me like a vice. I wanted to comfort her, to tell her it would all be okay – but I couldn’t. Not this time.
After a long pause, she looked up at me. “So, that’s it, then? You’re giving up on us?”
“I’m not giving up,” I said quietly, “I’m choosing to let go. There’s a difference, Meera. Holding on to something broken – it’s killing both of us. And I don’t want to keep hurting you. Or myself.”
“You’re wrong, Krish. We can fix this! We can rebuild what we had. You don’t have to do this!”
She was on repeat mode.
“Rebuild?” I echoed bitterly. “With what, Meera? Lies? Secrets? The memory of you with him – those moments you shared – it’s etched into my mind. And I know I’ve failed you too. I’m no saint in this. But I can’t keep pretending this is something we can just patch up and move on from. Meera, I know you love me. But love isn’t always enough. You and I – we’ve been holding on to something that isn’t there anymore. And you can’t deny that part of you feels more alive with him. I’ve seen it. I’ve heard it in your voice when you talk to him.”
“Don’t say that. Please, Krish. You’re all I want. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
“You say that now, but I’ve seen the truth, Meera. You deserve to be happy. Truly happy. And I think Desai can give you that.”
“You’re just trying to push me away. You’re trying to make yourself the bad guy so you can feel less guilty about leaving!”
“I’m not trying to be the bad guy,” I said softly. “I’m trying to be honest. For once, I’m being honest with you – and with myself.”
I stood up and went on. “I’ve made the decision. And I’ve also decided that I’m handing over Vickey Security Services to Desai.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it was a gift from him.”
“No! Krish, that business is yours. You worked for it. You built it. You can’t just give it away like that!”
“But it came from him,” I replied, turning to face her. “And I don’t want anything that ties me to him – or to you. I’m done.”
She stared at me, her expression a mix of shock and devastation. “You’re throwing everything away,” she whispered. “Not just us – everything you’ve worked for.”
“Maybe I am,” I admitted. “But it’s the only way I can move forward. I need to start over, Meera. And so do you.”
She didn’t respond, her tears falling silently now. I knew there was nothing left to say, nothing that could make this any easier for either of us.
The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Finally, I spoke, my voice barely above a whisper. “Prepare yourself for the goodbye, Meera. That’s all I can tell you now.”
That night, there was no resolution to our argument. We shared the same bed, but the distance between us was wider than ever. We both knew we were in need of help, but neither of us reached for the other. We lay there in the darkness.
In the morning, as I opened my eyes, I found Meera standing by the bedside, a cup of steaming coffee in her hand. Her face was drawn, her eyes puffy, but there was a softness in her gaze, a vulnerability that pulled at my heart.
"Morning, Krish," she said quietly, holding the cup out to me.
I took it, sitting up slowly.
"I want to apologize again, Krish," she said, her voice trembling. "I know I’ve hurt you deeply, and I’m so sorry."
"Meera," I struggled to make myself audible. "You need to see the reality. We can't continue to live like this. Our life together has hit rock bottom. You crave him, Meera. Your body, your mind – they crave him. Don't deny it."
"Are you angry because I met Desai without telling you?" she asked.
"Yes," I admitted, "I was angry. But this incident proved something else too – that you need some freedom."
"Freedom?" she looked at me.
I nodded. "You wanted to go to Alpine Heights with Desai, and you didn’t feel the need to tell me. You even went as far as deleting the chats. That says something, doesn't it? And what about when I spied on your WhatsApp chat? Didn’t that make you angry?"
She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "I have no right to be angry," she said softly.
"Didn't you feel the need for freedom?" I pressed. "If not, then why didn’t you tell me when Desai proposed the meeting?"
Meera hesitated, her lips trembling. Finally, she said, "Yes, I didn’t want you to know about it. When Desai proposed the meeting, I was... excited. Especially that morning when I woke up. I was thinking about him. I wanted to be in his bed, Krish. I wanted to be treated the way he treats me in bed."
The confession was raw and unfiltered, breaking through the walls she had built around her desires. A truth that terrified and intrigued me, all at once. I could see it in her eyes – she wasn’t holding anything back now, speaking from the very core of her feelings. "But," she continued, her voice trembling, "That doesn’t mean I love him. I wanted to have sex with you too.”
"Do you really not have any feelings for Desai?" I asked, struggling to contain my own emotions.
"Is that what you believe?” she responded, looking up at me.
"I believe you're drawn to him. He excites you. He challenges you. He brings out a side of you that you've never shown me."
She shook her head. "No, Krish. You're wrong. You're so, so wrong. He's just... different. Exciting. But it’s not love. It’s not the way I feel about you. You know, whatever I have in me, this feeling you're talking about, I can let go of that, if you can let go of him. That’s what drew me forward. If I was with him, it was because of you, Krish. We had stopped, hadn’t we? Then you brought him back. Not suddenly, but little by little. Inch by inch. Slowly working on your fantasies. I’m your partner not only in life, but in your fantasies too, Krish. Try to understand that. I don’t have these fantasies if I don’t have you."
I didn’t say anything. Meera continued. "You didn’t want me to tell him that you knew about the night of the concert, and then about Ritu’s wedding night. In his mind, and between me and Desai, those instances were already painting me as a cheating partner. If I could sleep with him twice behind your back, why should I stop at a third time? The only person who can stop it is you. You can do that, even now."
She paused, looking at me with hope. "I don’t want to lose you, Krish. Our marriage, I don’t want this to be over."
I stared at her, her face etched with pain and confusion. For a brief moment, I saw the woman I had fallen in love with – the one who had filled my life with joy and warmth. But then the image of her with Desai flashed in my mind: the way she had looked at him, how she had responded to him. The flicker of hope that had ignited in me quickly died.
"But it’s over, Meera," I said, my voice firm. "We can’t go back to what we were. You need to understand that. It’s over. Let’s move on."
Her eyes flashed with anger. "You're unbelievable, Krish!” Her voice rose. “You're pushing me away because you're afraid! Afraid of losing control, afraid of facing your own insecurities!"
"Meera," I began, but she cut me off.
"No," she raised her hand to stop me. "Don’t say anything. Just... just go wherever you want."
Without another word, she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
 
However, she phoned me later that morning after I had reached the office.
"Krish, I was thinking… Maybe we could see a counsellor together?"
She was trying to find a way. I thought about opening up about our life in front of a counsellor. The thought of talking about our life’s secrets to a stranger simply repulsed me.
"I don’t think that’s a good idea," I said.
"Why not?" Meera asked. "Don’t we owe it to ourselves to at least try? To understand where we went wrong?"
I leaned back in my chair. "Meera, this isn’t about where we went wrong. This is about what’s already broken. Some things can’t be fixed."
"I understand you’re upset, but this isn’t just about you or me. This is about us. About everything we’ve built together, Krish."
I waited for a moment, then ended the call. There seemed to be no end to these talks, and I told myself, it’s pointless.
As I thought about her phone call, I realized she was trying her best to save the marriage. She loved me, that much was clear. And I was left wondering if I was being too hasty.
Am I throwing it all away?
But then the image of Meera with Desai flooded my mind – the way she had looked at him, how she had responded to him, her body drawn to his in a way she had never been with me. That memory erased all my doubts instantly.


"So that’s how it’s going to be," I muttered to myself, the bitterness rising in my throat. "Meera in Desai’s bed. Permanently."
 
 
Chapter to be continued...

[DeanWinchester00007]

Thank you .

[Gumshot]

Sorry

[Gumshot]

Thanks

[krish_999]

Chapter 50 continues...
 

That morning when Nidhi arrived at the office, she looked more beautiful than ever, a newfound confidence in her step. Perhaps it was the unspoken understanding between us after what happened the previous day – how we’d chosen to remain friends, saving ourselves from embarrassment, which only seemed to draw us closer.
"You look beautiful today," I said before I could stop myself.
She paused, locking eyes with me, a smile spreading slowly across her face. "Thank you, Krish sir."
Her response was casual, but the way she said it carried a sense of excitement in her voice. There was a curiosity in her eyes, something I had noticed the previous day. I felt it was because she probably thought I had had a fantasy-filled all-night encounter with Meera.
But neither of us talked about anything personal apart from professional matters that day.

 
Later that evening, Meera phoned me again.
"I’m home early," she said, her voice softer. "I don’t want to be alone. Can you come?"
Nidhi was in my cabin when that phone call came, and I was sure she heard Meera’s voice.
"Okay, I’ll be there soon," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.
As I hung up, Nidhi’s smile lingered a moment longer, a knowing glint in her eyes. I knew what she was thinking, imagining what might happen next. But instead of excitement, an unease settled over me.
I glanced at her again, her eyes fixed on me. I decided to leave immediately, wanting to escape the weight of her scrutiny.
 
Back at home, Meera thanked me for coming. She didn’t mention the crisis at all.
After having coffee, she suggested a walk, and we went. We spoke about random things, anything to avoid the confrontation that was looming between us. With each step, the silence deepened, the emptiness growing more palpable.
That night, we slept in the same bed, just like the night before – with a wide gap between us.
 
The next morning, I woke to find Meera sitting by the bed, a cup of coffee in her hand. She looked at me, her eyes filled with sadness, mirroring my own.
"Good morning," she said quietly, her voice barely a whisper.
I took the coffee and thanked her.
We sat in silence, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the bedside table.
 
Later at the office, Nidhi couldn’t help but notice the shadows under my eyes.
"So, how did last night go?" she asked, her tone casual, but her eyes filled with mischief.
I met her gaze but didn’t want to say anything.
"Guess," I replied.
Nidhi smiled. "I can imagine."
 
For two days, Meera didn’t bring it up again, but the silence between us was suffocating. Finally, I asked, "Did you talk to Desai about it?"
She shook her head. "No, I won’t. There’s nothing to discuss."
I wasn’t sure what to make of it, so I took a step forward. I called Desai on a video call. He answered, looking uncomfortable.
"Meera told me about your meeting at Alpine Heights," I said, steady but aware of his unease.
He hesitated, caught off guard. Before he could respond, I added, "I have no issue with you two meeting again. It’s clear now that you want to."
Meera, who had been standing silently in the background, grabbed the phone from my hand. "No," she said firmly. "I won’t meet him again." She ended the call abruptly.
She turned to me, her eyes hard. "Stop forcing your decisions on me," she said, voice low. "If you want me out of your life, I’ll leave. But don’t ask me to see him again."
I stared at her, frustration building. "Why?" I asked, but she stayed silent.
 
Later, Desai called me back.
"Is everything alright?" he asked.
"Not really," I replied, my voice steady. "I need to ask you something. Do you love Meera?"
A pause. Then, Desai answered softly, "Yes, I love her. But I won’t do anything to spoil what she has with you. I’ll never ask her if she feels the same. I’m just happy knowing I can bring her some joy."
I absorbed his words. "She has feelings for you, Desai. You should talk to her, confess what you feel. Let her give you a proper answer."
Desai’s voice was full of confusion. "Why are you saying this, Krish? Why now?"
I sighed, my voice firm. "If you ever had the chance to marry Meera, what would you do?"
He was silent for a long moment, then spoke with regret. "Meera gave me a second chance at life. I would love to keep her in it, to be with her forever. But marriage… that’s just a dream. I know she loves you more than anything. I could never compete with that."
His words settled over me like a cold weight. I could hear the genuine affection in his voice for Meera, and it only confirmed what I was already starting to believe: maybe Meera belonged with him after all.
I listened intently, Desai’s words echoing in my mind. His affection for Meera was clear, and it only solidified what I had begun to believe – that maybe she belonged with him after all.
"I’ve started to think you two deserve each other," I said, my voice colder than I intended. "Our marriage... it’s just awkward now. It lacks color. The passion? Gone. Our sex life isn’t fulfilling. She’s not happy with me. And she’s been seeing you behind my back."
There was a long silence. I could feel Desai trying to process what I was saying.
"And me?" I went on. "I’ve cheated on her too. With Maithrei. We slept together. I’m telling you because I trust you, but don’t tell her. The trust, the chemistry – everything that worked – is gone. It’s time to move on."
Desai’s voice was strained. "But you were both open about this before. What’s different now?"
I sighed, frustration slipping into my words. "Yeah, we were. But the fun’s over. We don’t have the energy to keep pretending. You should talk to her. Find out if you two can make it work. It’s not about us anymore. It’s about what she really wants."
Desai hesitated before speaking again, quieter this time. "Krish... are you telling me this because you think I’m only interested in her body?"
I raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn’t see me. "Isn’t it? Or is it just her body that excites you? She’s made an impact on your life, hasn’t she? Not just physically, but who she is."
Desai let out a long breath. "It’s Meera, the person. But, yeah... the most intimate conversations we’ve had were during sex. That’s when we’re closest."
"I think you already believe in this, Desai," I said, my voice steady. "You've decided she's the one, and that's why you wouldn’t even think of being with anyone else. You’re not looking for someone new. You want Meera."
Desai was quiet for a moment before answering, his voice softer, tinged with regret. "I do want to talk to her, Krish. I really do. But she’s blocked me. Everywhere. Phone, online... she’s cut me off."
 
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I stormed into the room where Meera was. My voice was sharp, accusing. "Have you blocked Desai?"
Her eyes narrowed, confusion flickering across her face. "Why are you contacting him again, Krish?"
Frustration surged through me, the raw emotion spilling over. "Why? Why are you acting like this?" I shot back, my words harsh and unfiltered. "Like a damn bitch!"
She didn’t flinch. Instead, her face twisted with emotion. "Because I love you, damn it!" she spat, the words sharp and painful.
 
That night, after dinner, we went to bed in silence. But then Meera tried to open up. She hesitated, searching for the right words, her voice trembling.
"When I was with him," she began, her voice wavering with emotion, "he made me feel like I was with you. He role-played you when he finished inside me. And I let him because I was going to take the pill. But when it was happening..." She paused, her eyes reflecting a deep vulnerability. "In those moments, I remembered what you said the other day about having kids… and I was like, 'Oh Krish, I’m ready. I want to do it. I want a baby.' That moment... it was like a revelation. I felt something shift inside me. Like I understood what it could mean to create life, to have a child with you."
Her voice trembled as she continued, her eyes filled with longing. "I want that, Krish. I want to be with you. I want to build a family with you. I want to create something beautiful together."
I could feel the weight of her words sinking into me, but even as I processed them, something within me couldn’t ignore the distance that had already formed between us. I struggled to find the right words.
"Meera," I said quietly, my voice low, almost distant, "I’ve been thinking about everything we’ve been through. Too much has happened. Too much has changed. I don’t think it’s the right time for us to talk about having a baby. It’s too late for that."
Her face fell, the hurt clear in her eyes. But I knew, deep down, that I was right. We had crossed too many lines, hurt each other too many times, to ever go back to what we once had. Even though I wanted to give her the world, I knew it wasn’t that simple anymore. It could never be.
I sat there, feeling a thousand emotions swirling inside of me – anger, frustration, regret – but above all, an overwhelming sense of loss. I had no idea where we were headed anymore, and the thought of bringing a child into this mess... it was too much to bear.
 
The next morning, Meera asked, “What did you talk to Desai about?”
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts before responding. “I told him the truth. I asked him how he sees you and what made him think you’re the one. He promised you, didn’t he? That he wouldn’t see anyone else but you.”
Meera nodded quietly, her gaze distant. “Yes.”
"He told me he sees you as the person who changed his life. He owes you for that, and he’d love to have you in his life forever. He loves you, Meera. He really does.”
She didn’t respond immediately, her mind clearly elsewhere. After a moment, she asked, “Did you tell him about returning Vickey Security Services to him?”
I shook my head. “No.”
Meera turned to me, her voice calm but firm. “I’ll listen to you, but only if you listen to me first,” she said. “Promise me you’ll keep the company.”
I raised an eyebrow. “But why?”
“Because it wasn’t a gift,” she said, her tone unwavering. “If it had been, I wouldn’t have allowed you to accept it in the first place. Don’t see it as a gift. It’s something you deserve more than he does.”
Her words mirrored what I had been thinking – that Desai deserved her more than I did, and that I deserved the company more than he did. It felt like a twisted kind of fairness, but in that moment, I understood.
“Okay, I promise,” I said, and I saw her gaze soften slightly.
I hesitated, then asked, "So, is that a yes from you for Desai?”
I could hear the hesitation in her voice, but I pressed on. “What is it, Meera? Are you willing to meet him?”
She looked at me for a long moment before replying, her words slow. “I’m ready to meet him. But don’t push me to marry him, Krish. I can’t do that.”
I nodded, understanding her reluctance. “Okay, but how are you going to see him then? You need to move on, Meera. You can’t keep living in limbo.”
She sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. “I need time, Krish. I can’t just shut off everything I had with you and start something with him. It’s not that simple.”
My chest tightened, but I understood. “Okay, but at least unblock Desai.”
She didn’t say anything, just picked up her phone and unlocked it. I watched as her fingers worked quickly to unblock Desai, and no sooner had she done that than her phone buzzed. Desai was calling. She hesitated.
“Put it on speaker,” I urged.
Meera answered the call, putting it on speaker mode.
Desai’s voice came through loud and clear, carrying an unfamiliar warmth. “I was just dialling your number because I had a dream about you.”
Meera blinked, clearly curious. “A dream? What about?”
Desai’s tone softened, and I could almost hear the smile in his voice. “It was a beautiful one. I was walking down a quiet street, and I came across you. You were leaning against a pole, smiling at me. I asked you what you were doing, and you told me you were waiting for me. I can’t even describe how that felt in the dream. It was as if time stood still. I wish I could meet you like that in real life – standing there, waiting for me. That’s why I called, and I noticed you unblocked my number.”
Meera shifted uncomfortably, her voice a little nervous. “Krish made me unblock you.” She glanced at me, embarrassed. “And he’s sitting close.”
Without thinking, I grabbed the phone from her. “Hey Desai,” I cut in, sensing the shift in the conversation. “She’s ready to meet you. Maybe it’s time for you two to clear your heads, get away for a bit. How about we plan a trip or something? What do you think?”
Meera immediately shook her head, her expression a clear "no," but Desai responded with his usual enthusiasm. “I actually had something in mind – going to a resort I own down South. I invited Meera the other day, but wasn’t sure if she’d be ready.”
I knew exactly which one he meant.
The Bamboo Resort.
And the fantasies he had planned to fulfil there came rushing to my mind.


I decided to play along. “Sounds like a nice idea,” I said, keeping my tone casual. “How many days?”
Desai didn’t hesitate. “Two days.”
I thought for a moment, a slow grin forming. “You know, I think it would be better if you two took a longer break – maybe two weeks.”
Meera’s eyes widened and she immediately began shaking her head, mouthing “No” repeatedly. I could feel her discomfort radiating off her, but I was already committed to pushing this conversation further.
Desai, clearly excited, responded, “I would love that.”
Meera fell silent for a moment before her voice cut through the tension, sharp and incredulous. “I’m still wondering how Krish convinced you to do this, Susheel.”
I noticed it immediately – the subtle change. She hadn’t called him by his first name in days, maybe even weeks.
If that wasn’t a sign of the ice melting, then what could be?
Desai chuckled lightly. “I didn’t have to try much, baby. I just love you, and I guess I got a little selfish here.”
Meera, no longer able to contain her frustration, cut in sharply. “I’ll talk to you later,” and ended the call abruptly.
She turned to me, her expression a mix of confusion and certainty. “It could be true that he loves me,” she murmured, almost to herself. “But I love you too.”
And then, without warning, she kissed me. I was caught off guard, the surge of emotions overwhelming me. Her lips pressed against mine, pulling me toward her, and I could feel the heat between us. For a moment, I let myself get lost in it.
But then I pulled away, my mind racing. “No,” I rasped, trying to steady my breath. “It’s over between us.”
Her eyes went wide, shock and frustration flooding her face. She sat up on the bed, her hands clenching into fists. Without saying another word, she grabbed a pillow and threw it at me.
“Moron!” she snapped, her anger unmistakable.
I didn’t respond. Instead, I grabbed my things, turning to leave the room. But before I could step out, she spoke again, her tone suddenly more serious. “I’ll go with Desai,” she said firmly, “only if you find someone for you first.”
I raised an eyebrow, an involuntary laugh escaping me. “Stop making drama,” I said, though I could see she wasn’t backing down.
She just stared at me, waiting for my response.
I sighed, shaking my head. “Fine,” I muttered. “I’m ready to sleep with Maithrei again if that’s what you want. But only after you let Desai in.”
Without a word, she pinched my wrist, the sting sharp and unexpected.
 
The weight in my chest felt suffocating on the drive to the office. It had settled there ever since that moment with Meera, as though the universe had finally tipped its hand, showing me what I’d been dreading for so long. The ice between Meera and Desai was breaking, and deep down, I knew this was the beginning of the end. Meera was slipping away, little by little, and no matter how much I tried to keep calm, I couldn’t stop the pain.
The realization stung more than I anticipated. I felt the pressure build in my chest, my eyes welling up with tears. For a brief moment, I let them come – just long enough for the weight of it all to settle in.
I pulled over to the side of the road, quickly wiping my eyes. It wasn’t enough to fix anything, but it would have to do. I couldn’t afford to let this derail me. The office awaited, and the world didn’t stop just because my marriage was falling apart.
I took a deep breath, staring out the windshield, trying to pull myself together. It was a cold truth, but it was mine to face.
 
Later that day, Desai called.
"I hope I am not being played, Krish,” he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
I raised an eyebrow, sensing the unease in his words. “Why? What’s going on?”
There was a brief pause before Desai spoke again, his words quick and sharp. "I can’t believe this. Meera has agreed to go with me – a trip, six days, to the resort. She won’t commit to anything beyond that, though. She said she’ll think about the future after the trip..."
"That’s what I thought too when I suggested two days wasn’t enough," I responded, my voice steady but laced with something else. "Desai, I want you to consider this seriously. My marriage is falling apart for sure, but I’m making this choice because I believe you two deserve each other more than I do. Take this as your chance to show her where you want to take it from here. But if you fail to convince her, she’s coming back to me. Because she still loves me. And I’ll have to rethink my current decision. Do you understand?"
Desai was silent for a moment, then replied, his voice strained. "I get it, Krish. But she said she needs time to be mentally ready to travel with me. She’s emotionally down, and I get it – she’s justified. She asked me to wait until your wedding anniversary."
My heart stopped.
Anniversary?
It hit me like a punch to the gut. Our tenth wedding anniversary was in two weeks.
I let the silence stretch out, the weight of the realization sinking in. Finally, I spoke, my voice barely steady. “Well, it sounds like a good proposal,” I said, though I could feel the heaviness of it all in my chest.
 
Back at home, I looked at Meera, trying to keep my expression steady, though nothing felt steady anymore.
"I think it’s a good decision, Meera," I said quietly, my voice softer than usual. "Two weeks will give you time to mentally adjust to the change." I wasn’t entirely sure I believed it, but it felt like the only way forward.
Her face crumpled, and before I knew it, she was in my arms, her body trembling as she cried against my chest. I froze, unsure of how to react.
"Meera..." I began, but the words caught in my throat. The weight of the situation hit me harder than I had anticipated.
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes glistening with tears, her expression a mixture of confusion and pain. "What are you making me do, Krish?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
I sighed, feeling the heaviness of everything we’d been through. It seemed like there were no right answers anymore, no way to fix the damage. But I did the only thing I could – I pulled her close again, kissing her forehead gently.
"I'm doing the right thing, baby," I murmured, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "You’ll see."


That night, Meera curled up beside me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself hold her in silence. We slept in each other’s arms, the steady rhythm of our breathing the only sound that filled the space between us.
In the morning, Meera stirred, her voice soft and filled with something I couldn’t quite place, breaking the silence.
"You are a wonderful man, Krish."
I didn’t know how to respond, so I just held her tighter, unwilling to let go.
But then she turned toward me, and I felt the weight of her gaze. “Krish, can you stay my husband – just until the anniversary?”
I froze. My heart clenched, and I found myself looking into her eyes, seeing that love there – raw, undeniable, the kind of love that could break a man. I felt it all over again. And for a moment, I wanted to pretend it didn’t hurt. But I had to be strong.
“No, baby,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “Let’s not complicate this.”
Her lips trembled, and her voice was small, as though she was holding back tears. "Do you already hate me that much?"
I couldn’t let her think that. I pulled her into my arms, needing to feel her warmth, needing to remind myself that I hadn’t lost everything yet. "I will never hate you, Meera. Even when you become Desai’s."
Her body tensed in my arms, but her voice cracked when she spoke. “What will we be to each other then?”
I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t know if there was one. “Whatever we feel like,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it.
She looked at me, her eyes searching mine like she was trying to find something she knew she wouldn’t hear. “What do you feel now?”
“Peace,” I replied, the word slipping from my lips before I could stop it. “Warmth.”
Meera leaned up, her lips soft against my chin, kissing me gently. "I will never stop loving you too, Krish."
And for the first time in weeks, I felt it – a strange kind of serenity. A truth I didn’t want to face, but one I couldn’t ignore anymore. I tightened my arms around her, and she melted further into me, fitting perfectly against me, as if we were still the same people we used to be.
We stayed like that for what felt like hours, just holding each other, letting silence do the talking. There was no tension, no conflict between us. Only the quiet acceptance of what was to come.
 
That night, after everything had settled into an uneasy calm, I turned to Meera as we lay in bed together.
"Meera," I began, my voice tentative, "I was thinking... maybe we should invite Desai to the anniversary."
Her eyes widened for a moment, and I could see the hesitation in them. But she didn’t say no. She just nodded, though nervousness lingered in her expression.
I took a deep breath. "I think it might be better for all of us if you can leave with him the day after. A decade of our life is coming to an end, and it should mark the beginning of another phase. We could... end this chapter properly."
“I... I’m scared, Krish,” Meera said.
“No. That’s not an option.”
I demanded.
Meera remained quiet for a long time. I could feel the weight of her decision hanging between us. Finally, she agreed, her voice shaky. "Okay... we can do that."
I didn’t know if she was doing it for me, or for herself, but it was the decision we both knew had to be made.


I pulled out my phone and dialled Desai’s number. It rang a couple of times before he picked up.
"Hello?" His voice sounded almost too eager.
"Desai," I said, trying to keep my tone even, "I wanted to invite you to the anniversary. Meera and I... we’ve talked about it, and we think it’s time for you to come."
There was a long pause on the other end, and I could almost hear the disbelief in his silence. Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with both gratitude and guilt.
"Krish... I don’t know what to say. I’ve been waiting for this day, but I feel terrible. I feel like I’m taking something precious away from you."
I felt a pang in my chest, but I couldn’t let it show.
"Desai," I said after a pause, "I’ve seen a change in her. I know Meera better than anyone, and I can feel her heart moving in a different direction. That’s why I’m asking you to take your chance. I need her to be truly happy, even if it’s not with me."
There was a long silence on the line. I could hear his breath catching, and I knew he was processing my words, trying to find the right response. Finally, his voice came through again, thick with emotion.
"Krish, you’re... remarkable. No man has ever been this kind to me. I mean it. What you’re doing is beyond anything I could have imagined." He paused, and I could feel his gratitude seeping through the phone. "I don’t just feel gratitude – I feel an obligation to you. I’m committing here and now to fulfil any wish you have. Not to repay the favour, but because I understand the depth of the sacrifice you’re making for me. Just say the word, and it’s yours."


His sincerity hit me hard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t asking for anything in return, but hearing him say that made the sacrifice feel heavier, more real. Finally, I took a breath and spoke again.
"I don’t want anything from you, Desai. Just promise me one thing – if this works out, you’ll treat Meera like a queen. She deserves nothing less."
There was a brief pause before Desai’s voice came through again, filled with conviction. "I will, Krish. I promise you, I’ll cherish her and make sure she never regrets this. You have my word."
"Good," I said quietly, my chest tightening at the weight of the promise. "That’s all I needed to hear."
I ended the call and turned to Meera, who was sitting beside me. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Without a word, she threw her arms around me, burying her face in my chest as she began to cry softly.
I held her close, the feeling of her tears against my skin almost unbearable. She was about to walk away from me, and yet, I knew I was doing the right thing. For her. For us.
"I don’t want to go, Krish," she whispered, her voice broken. "I wish I didn’t have to."
I stroked her hair, my own heart aching with a mixture of relief and pain. "I know, Meera," I said softly. "But this is what’s best for both of us. I promise you."
And as she cried in my arms, I knew that this was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but maybe it was the only thing left to do.
 
A few days before the anniversary, I found myself sitting beside Meera, watching her carefully as she stared at the closet. “What are you planning to wear?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
She shrugged, her voice subdued. “I don’t know.”
I blinked, taken aback. It wasn’t like Meera to be so unprepared. She always planned her outfits days in advance, especially for something as important as this event. Her attention to detail had always been one of the things I admired most about her. But now, it was clear she was holding something back – something deeper than just clothes.
"How about something Desai likes?" I suggested gently, my words coming out softer than I intended. "Maybe a saree? He’s always said he loves seeing you in one.”
She nodded slowly but didn’t respond further.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, hoping for some glimpse into her thoughts.
She hesitated before answering, her voice quieter now. “I’m wondering if all of this will even work out the way you think it will.”
Her doubt hung in the air, sharp and undeniable. I could see it reflected in her eyes, and it made my chest tighten.
“How can you be so sure?” she added, her words fragile, as if she was asking me for answers I didn’t have.
I let out a heavy breath, unsure of how to frame my thoughts. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Truth is, I don’t want you to go, Meera.”
Her eyes widened slightly, the surprise and hurt flashing in them, but I didn’t stop. I needed her to hear me.
"But staying together…" I trailed off, my words heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. "It means the problems will never end. Not for us. If not Desai, then someone else. It’ll happen again.”
I watched as her gaze dropped, her shoulders slumping, a sadness falling over her that mirrored my own.
"So, I’m making the hard decision," I said, my voice quieter now, but firm. "Not for you. Not for me. For us.”
She turned to face me again, her voice soft. “What will you do after I leave?”
I tried to shrug, but the weight of it all felt heavier than I could pretend to bear. "I’ll find someone, so that you won’t feel bad for me," I said, though I wasn’t sure if I believed it myself.
A faint smile appeared on her lips, small and almost imperceptible. But it was there, like a fragile thread that tied us together, if only for a moment.
After a pause, she spoke again. “Promise me you’ll find someone for yourself. Someone… unlike me. Someone who wouldn’t be seduced by other men so easily.”
Her words came out as a joke, a self-deprecating jab at herself. But I couldn’t help but chuckle softly, trying to hide the sting behind the humour.
“That’s not how I see you,” I said. “And anyway, the biggest thing Desai saw in you was how tough you were. He told me you were the hardest woman he’d ever met.”
A fleeting look of pride crossed her face before it quickly disappeared, leaving only a shadow. “But he did, eventually,” she murmured, almost to herself.
I caught her gaze, watching her closely as I asked, “He conquered, right?”
She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she smiled – a soft, enigmatic smile that carried more meaning than any words could. It held something that I couldn’t quite grasp, but I knew it was there.


In that moment, I felt the weight of everything pressing down on me. The inevitable ending of everything we had built together. But strangely, I also felt something else – something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
A conclusion.
It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was what we both needed. And maybe, just maybe, it was the only thing left for us.
 
The next day, I took Meera to the saree boutique. She moved through the racks with quiet grace, her fingers lightly brushing the fabric as if savoring its softness, her eyes scanning the collection with focused determination. I stood back, leaning against one of the shelves, just watching her. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel the need to say anything. I wasn’t trying to fix anything. I wasn’t trying to stop her.


As I watched, my thoughts wandered. She moved so confidently among the fabrics. I wondered what was going through her mind. Was she picturing herself in one of these sarees for Desai? Imagining how it would look on her when he saw her in that attire, his gaze drinking it all in? Or maybe, she was thinking ahead – about how he would take it off, slowly, piece by piece, his hands moving where they pleased.
The thought of them together didn’t unsettle me like it used to. The familiar jolt of jealousy that once churned my insides had faded, replaced by something I couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t indifference. It wasn’t relief. It was just… acceptance. Desai and Meera were going to be a couple soon, that much was clear. And as a couple, they would have every right to do whatever they wanted.
It was a simple truth, and for the first time, I wasn’t fighting it. I wasn’t scrambling to stop what was happening.
I had been dreading this moment for so long, but now that it was here, it felt almost… peaceful. Like I had finally let go of something I had been holding onto for far too long.
 
Two days later, Meera asked me, “What will we tell our family and neighbors?”
I had thought about the same thing. "As for the family, we don’t need to tell them anything upfront. They’ll figure it out in time. It’ll take them a while to understand, but by the time they do, we’ll both have already moved on."
Meera nodded, but there was a lingering tension in her eyes. "And the neighbors?"
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "I think I’ll shift to Alpine Heights. That way, I won’t have to worry about questions or gossip. It’ll be easier for both of us."
She said nothing, but she nodded after thinking about it.
 
After what felt like an eternity, our anniversary day arrived. It was a Monday. Meera had taken the week off, and I’d called Nidhi the night before to let her know I wouldn’t be at the office.
I felt drained, like my mind had run out of energy. Everything seemed distant, muffled, as though I were behind a fogged window. At times, doubt crept in – had I acted too quickly? But then I reminded myself that this was best for Meera. If she was going to find happiness, this was the path, even if it meant I was left behind.
There was a finality in the air, a stillness. Though part of me felt suffocated by the weight of it all, deep down, I knew I’d made the right choice – for her.
 
There wasn’t much planning for the anniversary. We’d ordered food online, and Meera remained predictably quiet, offering no suggestions. I took it upon myself to grab a couple of scotch bottles and make basic arrangements for a small gathering. I wasn’t sure if Desai or Meera would drink, but I knew I’d need a glass or two to steady myself.
 
As I moved the furniture around in the hall, Meera joined me. Watching her step in, I felt the weight of the moment. It was time to ask the question neither of us had spoken aloud yet.
“Which room will you sleep in tonight?” I asked casually, but my chest tightened. The heaviness of the situation was undeniable, even masked by simple words.
Meera froze, surprised by the question. She didn’t respond, but I smiled gently, trying to hide the ache in my heart. “Meera, we’ve talked enough about this. There’s no point in struggling. I think we’ve already separated. Tonight, when Desai speaks his mind, it’s your choice. I won’t interfere. But we’re not together anymore.”
She nodded, her lips trembling slightly. There were no tears, but her quiet acceptance tore at me more than I expected. I wanted to say something to make it easier, but I couldn’t. She didn’t need that. Neither of us did.
 
Afterward, Meera moved into the evening preparations with purpose – arranging the food, setting the plates, ensuring everything was in order. Her nervous energy turned to action, but there was something bittersweet about it. It felt like she was preparing for an ending she couldn’t avoid.
I didn’t say anything. We were both just waiting for Desai.
I moved around the room too, trying to stay busy, but my mind drifted. The scotch bottles on the counter tempted me, but I needed to stay clear-headed for whatever was coming.
Meera glanced at me once or twice, but we both knew what was next. Her movements were final, like she was preparing not just for an anniversary dinner, but for the end of everything we had.
 
By evening, Meera started wearing the saree we had picked out, but then she called me into the room.
“Please, Krish. I can't do it. I don’t want to look like a bride,” she said.
She had dbangd the saree around her waist but hadn’t pleated it yet. In her sleeveless blouse, her body was on full display – her breasts, her belly, the curve of her navel just above the saree. The red blouse revealed a hint of cleavage, adding to her beauty. For a moment, I wanted to stop and admire her, but I realized I had no right to disturb her composure, something she had struggled to regain. I looked away, then met her eyes.
“You are a bride tonight, Meera. Just face it.”
“Fuck you. It’s just awkward.”
“Don’t think about it. Think about him. You need to think about him.”
She looked at me for a moment. “Is it still about your fantasy?” she asked quietly.
I paused. Yes, it was the ultimate fantasy. But the more painful it was, the more I would try to move away from it later.
“Probably,” I said. “Make it an event. A striking image of this transformation in our lives. A reminder that playing with fire leads to hell. Go ahead, wear it. Put on a show for your man.”
I left it up to her whom she wanted to put on that show for – Desai or me.


Meera slowly began making the pleats. I stood there watching, unable to take my eyes off her. This would likely be the last time I’d see her like this – as my wife.
She was breath-taking. The deep maroon saree with gold accents shimmered in the dim light, hugging her body perfectly, tracing every curve. It dbangd over her as though it belonged, as if it had always been part of her. The sleeveless blouse with golden embroidery highlighted her graceful shoulders and arms, soft and glistening naturally. The blouse dipped low in the back, exposing her flawless skin. Every movement she made shifted the fabric, teasing me with glimpses of her navel.
Her hair was loosely tied, strands framing her face. A touch of makeup accentuated her sharp eyes and soft lips, giving her a radiant glow. That she didn’t wear any ornaments around her neck made her look homely yet intimately hot.
She wasn’t dressing for me tonight. She was dressing for him. There was vulnerability in her, worn like armour, as she stood on the edge of something new. She looked hesitant, but impossibly alluring – caught between the past we shared and the future she was stepping into.
 
I also wore a new shirt and pants, carefully chosen not to match hers. I dressed well because I didn’t want to seem unprepared for what was about to unfold.
 
Eventually, the doorbell rang, shattering the quiet of the house. For a brief moment, the world around me froze. The sound sliced through the heavy air, pulling me back to reality. I felt my pulse quicken, the blood rushing to my ears, making everything else fade into the background.
Meera stood a few feet away in the hall, her fingers twitching nervously as she adjusted the pleats of her saree again, as though somehow it could make her feel more grounded, more in control. But I saw the tightness in her jaw, the subtle shift in her posture that betrayed the storm she was trying so desperately to keep hidden. Her eyes locked onto mine, and there was something in them – something heavy, something that said both too much and not enough.


I glanced at the door, the one that would open to let Desai in, to seal our fate. I knew that the moment I unbolted it, it would mean the beginning of Meera’s departure from me. A quiet realization washed over me: I would be opening the door not just to Desai, but to the end of everything we had.
My fingers trembled as I reached for the bolt, the cold metal almost slipping from my grip. I could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on me. The sound of my breath was too loud in the room, too frantic. I steadied my hands, trying to push the fear aside, but it clung to me like a shadow, gnawing at my resolve.


Finally, I unlocked the door. The metallic click seemed impossibly loud in the silence. As the door swung open, Desai stood there. He was everything I expected and more – tall, sharp, impeccably dressed in a suit that seemed custom-made for this moment. Every inch of him screamed confidence, authority, and control. His presence filled the doorway, and for an instant, I couldn’t breathe.
He looked every bit the man who had come to claim what was no longer mine.
Desai’s eyes met mine, and there was no warmth, no acknowledgment. He wasn’t here for me. His gaze immediately shifted beyond me, and in that moment, everything inside me twisted painfully. His eyes landed on Meera, standing just behind me.
I saw it – the intensity in his gaze, the way it softened, the way it lingered. It was the look of a man who had waited for this moment, and now that it was finally here, it was all-consuming.
For a second, everything stood still. The tension in the air thickened, and I felt the ground shift beneath me, as though I were no longer part of the equation.
Desai’s eyes never wavered from Meera, and in that moment, I knew – without a single word spoken – he had already claimed her, even if she hadn’t fully stepped toward him yet.
The door was open. And with it, everything was slipping away.

====xxxx====

[krish_999]

Sorry for the small glitch. As the chapter was too long I had to split it in half while posting. But I miscalculated the halfway mark, and it got worse when my system got hanged. Anyways, now the complete chapter has been posted.
Thanks.
One more chapter is left. I will try my best to make it next Sunday. But I can only say it's not a promise, I'm going to try. I want this to end so that I can feel free. Lol.

[DeanWinchester00007]

Sorry for the small glitch. As the chapter was too long I had to split it in half while posting. But I miscalculated the halfway mark, and it got worse when my system got hanged. Anyways, now the complete chapter has been posted.
Thanks.
One more chapter is left. I will try my best to make it next Sunday. But I can only say it's not a promise, I'm going to try. I want this to end so that I can feel free. Lol.

I want this to end so that I can feel free. Lol.

Hahahaha , Man . Lagta hai hum sabne kafi paresaan kar diya apko bro 

[abhinay67]

It is a good episode, you can feel the emotions and heartbreak flowing through this chapter. However, the separation should have happened earlier and you should have developed the story from there.

For Krish to make a clean break he should have left the Vickey security services.

I believe he should let Meera choose her future once he has decided to part ways with Meera. At the moment it seems like he is coercing her to move in with Desai.

[DeanWinchester00007]

Chapter 50 continues...
 

That morning when Nidhi arrived at the office, she looked more beautiful than ever, a newfound confidence in her step. Perhaps it was the unspoken understanding between us after what happened the previous day – how we’d chosen to remain friends, saving ourselves from embarrassment, which only seemed to draw us closer.
"You look beautiful today," I said before I could stop myself.
She paused, locking eyes with me, a smile spreading slowly across her face. "Thank you, Krish sir."
Her response was casual, but the way she said it carried a sense of excitement in her voice. There was a curiosity in her eyes, something I had noticed the previous day. I felt it was because she probably thought I had had a fantasy-filled all-night encounter with Meera.
But neither of us talked about anything personal apart from professional matters that day.

 
Later that evening, Meera phoned me again.
"I’m home early," she said, her voice softer. "I don’t want to be alone. Can you come?"
Nidhi was in my cabin when that phone call came, and I was sure she heard Meera’s voice.
"Okay, I’ll be there soon," I said, trying to keep my tone neutral.
As I hung up, Nidhi’s smile lingered a moment longer, a knowing glint in her eyes. I knew what she was thinking, imagining what might happen next. But instead of excitement, an unease settled over me.
I glanced at her again, her eyes fixed on me. I decided to leave immediately, wanting to escape the weight of her scrutiny.
 
Back at home, Meera thanked me for coming. She didn’t mention the crisis at all.
After having coffee, she suggested a walk, and we went. We spoke about random things, anything to avoid the confrontation that was looming between us. With each step, the silence deepened, the emptiness growing more palpable.
That night, we slept in the same bed, just like the night before – with a wide gap between us.
 
The next morning, I woke to find Meera sitting by the bed, a cup of coffee in her hand. She looked at me, her eyes filled with sadness, mirroring my own.
"Good morning," she said quietly, her voice barely a whisper.
I took the coffee and thanked her.
We sat in silence, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the bedside table.
 
Later at the office, Nidhi couldn’t help but notice the shadows under my eyes.
"So, how did last night go?" she asked, her tone casual, but her eyes filled with mischief.
I met her gaze but didn’t want to say anything.
"Guess," I replied.
Nidhi smiled. "I can imagine."
 
For two days, Meera didn’t bring it up again, but the silence between us was suffocating. Finally, I asked, "Did you talk to Desai about it?"
She shook her head. "No, I won’t. There’s nothing to discuss."
I wasn’t sure what to make of it, so I took a step forward. I called Desai on a video call. He answered, looking uncomfortable.
"Meera told me about your meeting at Alpine Heights," I said, steady but aware of his unease.
He hesitated, caught off guard. Before he could respond, I added, "I have no issue with you two meeting again. It’s clear now that you want to."
Meera, who had been standing silently in the background, grabbed the phone from my hand. "No," she said firmly. "I won’t meet him again." She ended the call abruptly.
She turned to me, her eyes hard. "Stop forcing your decisions on me," she said, voice low. "If you want me out of your life, I’ll leave. But don’t ask me to see him again."
I stared at her, frustration building. "Why?" I asked, but she stayed silent.
 
Later, Desai called me back.
"Is everything alright?" he asked.
"Not really," I replied, my voice steady. "I need to ask you something. Do you love Meera?"
A pause. Then, Desai answered softly, "Yes, I love her. But I won’t do anything to spoil what she has with you. I’ll never ask her if she feels the same. I’m just happy knowing I can bring her some joy."
I absorbed his words. "She has feelings for you, Desai. You should talk to her, confess what you feel. Let her give you a proper answer."
Desai’s voice was full of confusion. "Why are you saying this, Krish? Why now?"
I sighed, my voice firm. "If you ever had the chance to marry Meera, what would you do?"
He was silent for a long moment, then spoke with regret. "Meera gave me a second chance at life. I would love to keep her in it, to be with her forever. But marriage… that’s just a dream. I know she loves you more than anything. I could never compete with that."
His words settled over me like a cold weight. I could hear the genuine affection in his voice for Meera, and it only confirmed what I was already starting to believe: maybe Meera belonged with him after all.
I listened intently, Desai’s words echoing in my mind. His affection for Meera was clear, and it only solidified what I had begun to believe – that maybe she belonged with him after all.
"I’ve started to think you two deserve each other," I said, my voice colder than I intended. "Our marriage... it’s just awkward now. It lacks color. The passion? Gone. Our sex life isn’t fulfilling. She’s not happy with me. And she’s been seeing you behind my back."
There was a long silence. I could feel Desai trying to process what I was saying.
"And me?" I went on. "I’ve cheated on her too. With Maithrei. We slept together. I’m telling you because I trust you, but don’t tell her. The trust, the chemistry – everything that worked – is gone. It’s time to move on."
Desai’s voice was strained. "But you were both open about this before. What’s different now?"
I sighed, frustration slipping into my words. "Yeah, we were. But the fun’s over. We don’t have the energy to keep pretending. You should talk to her. Find out if you two can make it work. It’s not about us anymore. It’s about what she really wants."
Desai hesitated before speaking again, quieter this time. "Krish... are you telling me this because you think I’m only interested in her body?"
I raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn’t see me. "Isn’t it? Or is it just her body that excites you? She’s made an impact on your life, hasn’t she? Not just physically, but who she is."
Desai let out a long breath. "It’s Meera, the person. But, yeah... the most intimate conversations we’ve had were during sex. That’s when we’re closest."
"I think you already believe in this, Desai," I said, my voice steady. "You've decided she's the one, and that's why you wouldn’t even think of being with anyone else. You’re not looking for someone new. You want Meera."
Desai was quiet for a moment before answering, his voice softer, tinged with regret. "I do want to talk to her, Krish. I really do. But she’s blocked me. Everywhere. Phone, online... she’s cut me off."
 
I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I stormed into the room where Meera was. My voice was sharp, accusing. "Have you blocked Desai?"
Her eyes narrowed, confusion flickering across her face. "Why are you contacting him again, Krish?"
Frustration surged through me, the raw emotion spilling over. "Why? Why are you acting like this?" I shot back, my words harsh and unfiltered. "Like a damn bitch!"
She didn’t flinch. Instead, her face twisted with emotion. "Because I love you, damn it!" she spat, the words sharp and painful.
 
That night, after dinner, we went to bed in silence. But then Meera tried to open up. She hesitated, searching for the right words, her voice trembling.
"When I was with him," she began, her voice wavering with emotion, "he made me feel like I was with you. He role-played you when he finished inside me. And I let him because I was going to take the pill. But when it was happening..." She paused, her eyes reflecting a deep vulnerability. "In those moments, I remembered what you said the other day about having kids… and I was like, 'Oh Krish, I’m ready. I want to do it. I want a baby.' That moment... it was like a revelation. I felt something shift inside me. Like I understood what it could mean to create life, to have a child with you."
Her voice trembled as she continued, her eyes filled with longing. "I want that, Krish. I want to be with you. I want to build a family with you. I want to create something beautiful together."
I could feel the weight of her words sinking into me, but even as I processed them, something within me couldn’t ignore the distance that had already formed between us. I struggled to find the right words.
"Meera," I said quietly, my voice low, almost distant, "I’ve been thinking about everything we’ve been through. Too much has happened. Too much has changed. I don’t think it’s the right time for us to talk about having a baby. It’s too late for that."
Her face fell, the hurt clear in her eyes. But I knew, deep down, that I was right. We had crossed too many lines, hurt each other too many times, to ever go back to what we once had. Even though I wanted to give her the world, I knew it wasn’t that simple anymore. It could never be.
I sat there, feeling a thousand emotions swirling inside of me – anger, frustration, regret – but above all, an overwhelming sense of loss. I had no idea where we were headed anymore, and the thought of bringing a child into this mess... it was too much to bear.
 
The next morning, Meera asked, “What did you talk to Desai about?”
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts before responding. “I told him the truth. I asked him how he sees you and what made him think you’re the one. He promised you, didn’t he? That he wouldn’t see anyone else but you.”
Meera nodded quietly, her gaze distant. “Yes.”
"He told me he sees you as the person who changed his life. He owes you for that, and he’d love to have you in his life forever. He loves you, Meera. He really does.”
She didn’t respond immediately, her mind clearly elsewhere. After a moment, she asked, “Did you tell him about returning Vickey Security Services to him?”
I shook my head. “No.”
Meera turned to me, her voice calm but firm. “I’ll listen to you, but only if you listen to me first,” she said. “Promise me you’ll keep the company.”
I raised an eyebrow. “But why?”
“Because it wasn’t a gift,” she said, her tone unwavering. “If it had been, I wouldn’t have allowed you to accept it in the first place. Don’t see it as a gift. It’s something you deserve more than he does.”
Her words mirrored what I had been thinking – that Desai deserved her more than I did, and that I deserved the company more than he did. It felt like a twisted kind of fairness, but in that moment, I understood.
“Okay, I promise,” I said, and I saw her gaze soften slightly.
I hesitated, then asked, "So, is that a yes from you for Desai?”
I could hear the hesitation in her voice, but I pressed on. “What is it, Meera? Are you willing to meet him?”
She looked at me for a long moment before replying, her words slow. “I’m ready to meet him. But don’t push me to marry him, Krish. I can’t do that.”
I nodded, understanding her reluctance. “Okay, but how are you going to see him then? You need to move on, Meera. You can’t keep living in limbo.”
She sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. “I need time, Krish. I can’t just shut off everything I had with you and start something with him. It’s not that simple.”
My chest tightened, but I understood. “Okay, but at least unblock Desai.”
She didn’t say anything, just picked up her phone and unlocked it. I watched as her fingers worked quickly to unblock Desai, and no sooner had she done that than her phone buzzed. Desai was calling. She hesitated.
“Put it on speaker,” I urged.
Meera answered the call, putting it on speaker mode.
Desai’s voice came through loud and clear, carrying an unfamiliar warmth. “I was just dialling your number because I had a dream about you.”
Meera blinked, clearly curious. “A dream? What about?”
Desai’s tone softened, and I could almost hear the smile in his voice. “It was a beautiful one. I was walking down a quiet street, and I came across you. You were leaning against a pole, smiling at me. I asked you what you were doing, and you told me you were waiting for me. I can’t even describe how that felt in the dream. It was as if time stood still. I wish I could meet you like that in real life – standing there, waiting for me. That’s why I called, and I noticed you unblocked my number.”
Meera shifted uncomfortably, her voice a little nervous. “Krish made me unblock you.” She glanced at me, embarrassed. “And he’s sitting close.”
Without thinking, I grabbed the phone from her. “Hey Desai,” I cut in, sensing the shift in the conversation. “She’s ready to meet you. Maybe it’s time for you two to clear your heads, get away for a bit. How about we plan a trip or something? What do you think?”
Meera immediately shook her head, her expression a clear "no," but Desai responded with his usual enthusiasm. “I actually had something in mind – going to a resort I own down South. I invited Meera the other day, but wasn’t sure if she’d be ready.”
I knew exactly which one he meant.
The Bamboo Resort.
And the fantasies he had planned to fulfil there came rushing to my mind.


I decided to play along. “Sounds like a nice idea,” I said, keeping my tone casual. “How many days?”
Desai didn’t hesitate. “Two days.”
I thought for a moment, a slow grin forming. “You know, I think it would be better if you two took a longer break – maybe two weeks.”
Meera’s eyes widened and she immediately began shaking her head, mouthing “No” repeatedly. I could feel her discomfort radiating off her, but I was already committed to pushing this conversation further.
Desai, clearly excited, responded, “I would love that.”
Meera fell silent for a moment before her voice cut through the tension, sharp and incredulous. “I’m still wondering how Krish convinced you to do this, Susheel.”
I noticed it immediately – the subtle change. She hadn’t called him by his first name in days, maybe even weeks.
If that wasn’t a sign of the ice melting, then what could be?
Desai chuckled lightly. “I didn’t have to try much, baby. I just love you, and I guess I got a little selfish here.”
Meera, no longer able to contain her frustration, cut in sharply. “I’ll talk to you later,” and ended the call abruptly.
She turned to me, her expression a mix of confusion and certainty. “It could be true that he loves me,” she murmured, almost to herself. “But I love you too.”
And then, without warning, she kissed me. I was caught off guard, the surge of emotions overwhelming me. Her lips pressed against mine, pulling me toward her, and I could feel the heat between us. For a moment, I let myself get lost in it.
But then I pulled away, my mind racing. “No,” I rasped, trying to steady my breath. “It’s over between us.”
Her eyes went wide, shock and frustration flooding her face. She sat up on the bed, her hands clenching into fists. Without saying another word, she grabbed a pillow and threw it at me.
“Moron!” she snapped, her anger unmistakable.
I didn’t respond. Instead, I grabbed my things, turning to leave the room. But before I could step out, she spoke again, her tone suddenly more serious. “I’ll go with Desai,” she said firmly, “only if you find someone for you first.”
I raised an eyebrow, an involuntary laugh escaping me. “Stop making drama,” I said, though I could see she wasn’t backing down.
She just stared at me, waiting for my response.
I sighed, shaking my head. “Fine,” I muttered. “I’m ready to sleep with Maithrei again if that’s what you want. But only after you let Desai in.”
Without a word, she pinched my wrist, the sting sharp and unexpected.
 
The weight in my chest felt suffocating on the drive to the office. It had settled there ever since that moment with Meera, as though the universe had finally tipped its hand, showing me what I’d been dreading for so long. The ice between Meera and Desai was breaking, and deep down, I knew this was the beginning of the end. Meera was slipping away, little by little, and no matter how much I tried to keep calm, I couldn’t stop the pain.
The realization stung more than I anticipated. I felt the pressure build in my chest, my eyes welling up with tears. For a brief moment, I let them come – just long enough for the weight of it all to settle in.
I pulled over to the side of the road, quickly wiping my eyes. It wasn’t enough to fix anything, but it would have to do. I couldn’t afford to let this derail me. The office awaited, and the world didn’t stop just because my marriage was falling apart.
I took a deep breath, staring out the windshield, trying to pull myself together. It was a cold truth, but it was mine to face.
 
Later that day, Desai called.
"I hope I am not being played, Krish,” he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
I raised an eyebrow, sensing the unease in his words. “Why? What’s going on?”
There was a brief pause before Desai spoke again, his words quick and sharp. "I can’t believe this. Meera has agreed to go with me – a trip, six days, to the resort. She won’t commit to anything beyond that, though. She said she’ll think about the future after the trip..."
"That’s what I thought too when I suggested two days wasn’t enough," I responded, my voice steady but laced with something else. "Desai, I want you to consider this seriously. My marriage is falling apart for sure, but I’m making this choice because I believe you two deserve each other more than I do. Take this as your chance to show her where you want to take it from here. But if you fail to convince her, she’s coming back to me. Because she still loves me. And I’ll have to rethink my current decision. Do you understand?"
Desai was silent for a moment, then replied, his voice strained. "I get it, Krish. But she said she needs time to be mentally ready to travel with me. She’s emotionally down, and I get it – she’s justified. She asked me to wait until your wedding anniversary."
My heart stopped.
Anniversary?
It hit me like a punch to the gut. Our tenth wedding anniversary was in two weeks.
I let the silence stretch out, the weight of the realization sinking in. Finally, I spoke, my voice barely steady. “Well, it sounds like a good proposal,” I said, though I could feel the heaviness of it all in my chest.
 
Back at home, I looked at Meera, trying to keep my expression steady, though nothing felt steady anymore.
"I think it’s a good decision, Meera," I said quietly, my voice softer than usual. "Two weeks will give you time to mentally adjust to the change." I wasn’t entirely sure I believed it, but it felt like the only way forward.
Her face crumpled, and before I knew it, she was in my arms, her body trembling as she cried against my chest. I froze, unsure of how to react.
"Meera..." I began, but the words caught in my throat. The weight of the situation hit me harder than I had anticipated.
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes glistening with tears, her expression a mixture of confusion and pain. "What are you making me do, Krish?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
I sighed, feeling the heaviness of everything we’d been through. It seemed like there were no right answers anymore, no way to fix the damage. But I did the only thing I could – I pulled her close again, kissing her forehead gently.
"I'm doing the right thing, baby," I murmured, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "You’ll see."


That night, Meera curled up beside me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself hold her in silence. We slept in each other’s arms, the steady rhythm of our breathing the only sound that filled the space between us.
In the morning, Meera stirred, her voice soft and filled with something I couldn’t quite place, breaking the silence.
"You are a wonderful man, Krish."
I didn’t know how to respond, so I just held her tighter, unwilling to let go.
But then she turned toward me, and I felt the weight of her gaze. “Krish, can you stay my husband – just until the anniversary?”
I froze. My heart clenched, and I found myself looking into her eyes, seeing that love there – raw, undeniable, the kind of love that could break a man. I felt it all over again. And for a moment, I wanted to pretend it didn’t hurt. But I had to be strong.
“No, baby,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “Let’s not complicate this.”
Her lips trembled, and her voice was small, as though she was holding back tears. "Do you already hate me that much?"
I couldn’t let her think that. I pulled her into my arms, needing to feel her warmth, needing to remind myself that I hadn’t lost everything yet. "I will never hate you, Meera. Even when you become Desai’s."
Her body tensed in my arms, but her voice cracked when she spoke. “What will we be to each other then?”
I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t know if there was one. “Whatever we feel like,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it.
She looked at me, her eyes searching mine like she was trying to find something she knew she wouldn’t hear. “What do you feel now?”
“Peace,” I replied, the word slipping from my lips before I could stop it. “Warmth.”
Meera leaned up, her lips soft against my chin, kissing me gently. "I will never stop loving you too, Krish."
And for the first time in weeks, I felt it – a strange kind of serenity. A truth I didn’t want to face, but one I couldn’t ignore anymore. I tightened my arms around her, and she melted further into me, fitting perfectly against me, as if we were still the same people we used to be.
We stayed like that for what felt like hours, just holding each other, letting silence do the talking. There was no tension, no conflict between us. Only the quiet acceptance of what was to come.
 
That night, after everything had settled into an uneasy calm, I turned to Meera as we lay in bed together.
"Meera," I began, my voice tentative, "I was thinking... maybe we should invite Desai to the anniversary."
Her eyes widened for a moment, and I could see the hesitation in them. But she didn’t say no. She just nodded, though nervousness lingered in her expression.
I took a deep breath. "I think it might be better for all of us if you can leave with him the day after. A decade of our life is coming to an end, and it should mark the beginning of another phase. We could... end this chapter properly."
“I... I’m scared, Krish,” Meera said.
“No. That’s not an option.”
I demanded.
Meera remained quiet for a long time. I could feel the weight of her decision hanging between us. Finally, she agreed, her voice shaky. "Okay... we can do that."
I didn’t know if she was doing it for me, or for herself, but it was the decision we both knew had to be made.


I pulled out my phone and dialled Desai’s number. It rang a couple of times before he picked up.
"Hello?" His voice sounded almost too eager.
"Desai," I said, trying to keep my tone even, "I wanted to invite you to the anniversary. Meera and I... we’ve talked about it, and we think it’s time for you to come."
There was a long pause on the other end, and I could almost hear the disbelief in his silence. Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with both gratitude and guilt.
"Krish... I don’t know what to say. I’ve been waiting for this day, but I feel terrible. I feel like I’m taking something precious away from you."
I felt a pang in my chest, but I couldn’t let it show.
"Desai," I said after a pause, "I’ve seen a change in her. I know Meera better than anyone, and I can feel her heart moving in a different direction. That’s why I’m asking you to take your chance. I need her to be truly happy, even if it’s not with me."
There was a long silence on the line. I could hear his breath catching, and I knew he was processing my words, trying to find the right response. Finally, his voice came through again, thick with emotion.
"Krish, you’re... remarkable. No man has ever been this kind to me. I mean it. What you’re doing is beyond anything I could have imagined." He paused, and I could feel his gratitude seeping through the phone. "I don’t just feel gratitude – I feel an obligation to you. I’m committing here and now to fulfil any wish you have. Not to repay the favour, but because I understand the depth of the sacrifice you’re making for me. Just say the word, and it’s yours."


His sincerity hit me hard, and for a moment, I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t asking for anything in return, but hearing him say that made the sacrifice feel heavier, more real. Finally, I took a breath and spoke again.
"I don’t want anything from you, Desai. Just promise me one thing – if this works out, you’ll treat Meera like a queen. She deserves nothing less."
There was a brief pause before Desai’s voice came through again, filled with conviction. "I will, Krish. I promise you, I’ll cherish her and make sure she never regrets this. You have my word."
"Good," I said quietly, my chest tightening at the weight of the promise. "That’s all I needed to hear."
I ended the call and turned to Meera, who was sitting beside me. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Without a word, she threw her arms around me, burying her face in my chest as she began to cry softly.
I held her close, the feeling of her tears against my skin almost unbearable. She was about to walk away from me, and yet, I knew I was doing the right thing. For her. For us.
"I don’t want to go, Krish," she whispered, her voice broken. "I wish I didn’t have to."
I stroked her hair, my own heart aching with a mixture of relief and pain. "I know, Meera," I said softly. "But this is what’s best for both of us. I promise you."
And as she cried in my arms, I knew that this was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but maybe it was the only thing left to do.
 
A few days before the anniversary, I found myself sitting beside Meera, watching her carefully as she stared at the closet. “What are you planning to wear?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
She shrugged, her voice subdued. “I don’t know.”
I blinked, taken aback. It wasn’t like Meera to be so unprepared. She always planned her outfits days in advance, especially for something as important as this event. Her attention to detail had always been one of the things I admired most about her. But now, it was clear she was holding something back – something deeper than just clothes.
"How about something Desai likes?" I suggested gently, my words coming out softer than I intended. "Maybe a saree? He’s always said he loves seeing you in one.”
She nodded slowly but didn’t respond further.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, hoping for some glimpse into her thoughts.
She hesitated before answering, her voice quieter now. “I’m wondering if all of this will even work out the way you think it will.”
Her doubt hung in the air, sharp and undeniable. I could see it reflected in her eyes, and it made my chest tighten.
“How can you be so sure?” she added, her words fragile, as if she was asking me for answers I didn’t have.
I let out a heavy breath, unsure of how to frame my thoughts. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Truth is, I don’t want you to go, Meera.”
Her eyes widened slightly, the surprise and hurt flashing in them, but I didn’t stop. I needed her to hear me.
"But staying together…" I trailed off, my words heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. "It means the problems will never end. Not for us. If not Desai, then someone else. It’ll happen again.”
I watched as her gaze dropped, her shoulders slumping, a sadness falling over her that mirrored my own.
"So, I’m making the hard decision," I said, my voice quieter now, but firm. "Not for you. Not for me. For us.”
She turned to face me again, her voice soft. “What will you do after I leave?”
I tried to shrug, but the weight of it all felt heavier than I could pretend to bear. "I’ll find someone, so that you won’t feel bad for me," I said, though I wasn’t sure if I believed it myself.
A faint smile appeared on her lips, small and almost imperceptible. But it was there, like a fragile thread that tied us together, if only for a moment.
After a pause, she spoke again. “Promise me you’ll find someone for yourself. Someone… unlike me. Someone who wouldn’t be seduced by other men so easily.”
Her words came out as a joke, a self-deprecating jab at herself. But I couldn’t help but chuckle softly, trying to hide the sting behind the humour.
“That’s not how I see you,” I said. “And anyway, the biggest thing Desai saw in you was how tough you were. He told me you were the hardest woman he’d ever met.”
A fleeting look of pride crossed her face before it quickly disappeared, leaving only a shadow. “But he did, eventually,” she murmured, almost to herself.
I caught her gaze, watching her closely as I asked, “He conquered, right?”
She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she smiled – a soft, enigmatic smile that carried more meaning than any words could. It held something that I couldn’t quite grasp, but I knew it was there.


In that moment, I felt the weight of everything pressing down on me. The inevitable ending of everything we had built together. But strangely, I also felt something else – something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
A conclusion.
It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was what we both needed. And maybe, just maybe, it was the only thing left for us.
 
The next day, I took Meera to the saree boutique. She moved through the racks with quiet grace, her fingers lightly brushing the fabric as if savoring its softness, her eyes scanning the collection with focused determination. I stood back, leaning against one of the shelves, just watching her. For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel the need to say anything. I wasn’t trying to fix anything. I wasn’t trying to stop her.


As I watched, my thoughts wandered. She moved so confidently among the fabrics. I wondered what was going through her mind. Was she picturing herself in one of these sarees for Desai? Imagining how it would look on her when he saw her in that attire, his gaze drinking it all in? Or maybe, she was thinking ahead – about how he would take it off, slowly, piece by piece, his hands moving where they pleased.
The thought of them together didn’t unsettle me like it used to. The familiar jolt of jealousy that once churned my insides had faded, replaced by something I couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t indifference. It wasn’t relief. It was just… acceptance. Desai and Meera were going to be a couple soon, that much was clear. And as a couple, they would have every right to do whatever they wanted.
It was a simple truth, and for the first time, I wasn’t fighting it. I wasn’t scrambling to stop what was happening.
I had been dreading this moment for so long, but now that it was here, it felt almost… peaceful. Like I had finally let go of something I had been holding onto for far too long.
 
Two days later, Meera asked me, “What will we tell our family and neighbors?”
I had thought about the same thing. "As for the family, we don’t need to tell them anything upfront. They’ll figure it out in time. It’ll take them a while to understand, but by the time they do, we’ll both have already moved on."
Meera nodded, but there was a lingering tension in her eyes. "And the neighbors?"
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "I think I’ll shift to Alpine Heights. That way, I won’t have to worry about questions or gossip. It’ll be easier for both of us."
She said nothing, but she nodded after thinking about it.
 
After what felt like an eternity, our anniversary day arrived. It was a Monday. Meera had taken the week off, and I’d called Nidhi the night before to let her know I wouldn’t be at the office.
I felt drained, like my mind had run out of energy. Everything seemed distant, muffled, as though I were behind a fogged window. At times, doubt crept in – had I acted too quickly? But then I reminded myself that this was best for Meera. If she was going to find happiness, this was the path, even if it meant I was left behind.
There was a finality in the air, a stillness. Though part of me felt suffocated by the weight of it all, deep down, I knew I’d made the right choice – for her.
 
There wasn’t much planning for the anniversary. We’d ordered food online, and Meera remained predictably quiet, offering no suggestions. I took it upon myself to grab a couple of scotch bottles and make basic arrangements for a small gathering. I wasn’t sure if Desai or Meera would drink, but I knew I’d need a glass or two to steady myself.
 
As I moved the furniture around in the hall, Meera joined me. Watching her step in, I felt the weight of the moment. It was time to ask the question neither of us had spoken aloud yet.
“Which room will you sleep in tonight?” I asked casually, but my chest tightened. The heaviness of the situation was undeniable, even masked by simple words.
Meera froze, surprised by the question. She didn’t respond, but I smiled gently, trying to hide the ache in my heart. “Meera, we’ve talked enough about this. There’s no point in struggling. I think we’ve already separated. Tonight, when Desai speaks his mind, it’s your choice. I won’t interfere. But we’re not together anymore.”
She nodded, her lips trembling slightly. There were no tears, but her quiet acceptance tore at me more than I expected. I wanted to say something to make it easier, but I couldn’t. She didn’t need that. Neither of us did.
 
Afterward, Meera moved into the evening preparations with purpose – arranging the food, setting the plates, ensuring everything was in order. Her nervous energy turned to action, but there was something bittersweet about it. It felt like she was preparing for an ending she couldn’t avoid.
I didn’t say anything. We were both just waiting for Desai.
I moved around the room too, trying to stay busy, but my mind drifted. The scotch bottles on the counter tempted me, but I needed to stay clear-headed for whatever was coming.
Meera glanced at me once or twice, but we both knew what was next. Her movements were final, like she was preparing not just for an anniversary dinner, but for the end of everything we had.
 
By evening, Meera started wearing the saree we had picked out, but then she called me into the room.
“Please, Krish. I can't do it. I don’t want to look like a bride,” she said.
She had dbangd the saree around her waist but hadn’t pleated it yet. In her sleeveless blouse, her body was on full display – her breasts, her belly, the curve of her navel just above the saree. The red blouse revealed a hint of cleavage, adding to her beauty. For a moment, I wanted to stop and admire her, but I realized I had no right to disturb her composure, something she had struggled to regain. I looked away, then met her eyes.
“You are a bride tonight, Meera. Just face it.”
“Fuck you. It’s just awkward.”
“Don’t think about it. Think about him. You need to think about him.”
She looked at me for a moment. “Is it still about your fantasy?” she asked quietly.
I paused. Yes, it was the ultimate fantasy. But the more painful it was, the more I would try to move away from it later.
“Probably,” I said. “Make it an event. A striking image of this transformation in our lives. A reminder that playing with fire leads to hell. Go ahead, wear it. Put on a show for your man.”
I left it up to her whom she wanted to put on that show for – Desai or me.


Meera slowly began making the pleats. I stood there watching, unable to take my eyes off her. This would likely be the last time I’d see her like this – as my wife.
She was breath-taking. The deep maroon saree with gold accents shimmered in the dim light, hugging her body perfectly, tracing every curve. It dbangd over her as though it belonged, as if it had always been part of her. The sleeveless blouse with golden embroidery highlighted her graceful shoulders and arms, soft and glistening naturally. The blouse dipped low in the back, exposing her flawless skin. Every movement she made shifted the fabric, teasing me with glimpses of her navel.
Her hair was loosely tied, strands framing her face. A touch of makeup accentuated her sharp eyes and soft lips, giving her a radiant glow. That she didn’t wear any ornaments around her neck made her look homely yet intimately hot.
She wasn’t dressing for me tonight. She was dressing for him. There was vulnerability in her, worn like armour, as she stood on the edge of something new. She looked hesitant, but impossibly alluring – caught between the past we shared and the future she was stepping into.
 
I also wore a new shirt and pants, carefully chosen not to match hers. I dressed well because I didn’t want to seem unprepared for what was about to unfold.
 
Eventually, the doorbell rang, shattering the quiet of the house. For a brief moment, the world around me froze. The sound sliced through the heavy air, pulling me back to reality. I felt my pulse quicken, the blood rushing to my ears, making everything else fade into the background.
Meera stood a few feet away in the hall, her fingers twitching nervously as she adjusted the pleats of her saree again, as though somehow it could make her feel more grounded, more in control. But I saw the tightness in her jaw, the subtle shift in her posture that betrayed the storm she was trying so desperately to keep hidden. Her eyes locked onto mine, and there was something in them – something heavy, something that said both too much and not enough.


I glanced at the door, the one that would open to let Desai in, to seal our fate. I knew that the moment I unbolted it, it would mean the beginning of Meera’s departure from me. A quiet realization washed over me: I would be opening the door not just to Desai, but to the end of everything we had.
My fingers trembled as I reached for the bolt, the cold metal almost slipping from my grip. I could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on me. The sound of my breath was too loud in the room, too frantic. I steadied my hands, trying to push the fear aside, but it clung to me like a shadow, gnawing at my resolve.


Finally, I unlocked the door. The metallic click seemed impossibly loud in the silence. As the door swung open, Desai stood there. He was everything I expected and more – tall, sharp, impeccably dressed in a suit that seemed custom-made for this moment. Every inch of him screamed confidence, authority, and control. His presence filled the doorway, and for an instant, I couldn’t breathe.
He looked every bit the man who had come to claim what was no longer mine.
Desai’s eyes met mine, and there was no warmth, no acknowledgment. He wasn’t here for me. His gaze immediately shifted beyond me, and in that moment, everything inside me twisted painfully. His eyes landed on Meera, standing just behind me.
I saw it – the intensity in his gaze, the way it softened, the way it lingered. It was the look of a man who had waited for this moment, and now that it was finally here, it was all-consuming.
For a second, everything stood still. The tension in the air thickened, and I felt the ground shift beneath me, as though I were no longer part of the equation.
Desai’s eyes never wavered from Meera, and in that moment, I knew – without a single word spoken – he had already claimed her, even if she hadn’t fully stepped toward him yet.
The door was open. And with it, everything was slipping away.

====xxxx====

Finally Krish came to his sense and once in his life he took a stand . Good for him, Krish is back .
And Meera what a waste man , She could have choose to live alone , Like fuck off Krish , i wont see desai or do anything with him , you want to leave go fuck off . But nope , here She is confused clearly , But its good for krish . If she is confuse between Krish and Desai its shows that she does not love Krish , and Choosing between one of them its like putting Desai equals to Krish , If desai holds equal place as Krish in her life than its over there is no reason for Krish , she will spend rest of her life thinking if she made right decision or not . I dont even feel like writing anything related to her .
Thank god Krish did not get manipulated by her   . 

Desai stood there. He was everything I expected and more – tall, sharp, impeccably dressed in a suit that seemed custom-made for this moment. 
The most absurd line in the whole story( though , We should not judge anyone on how they looks) , Really That budha ugly Desai making Krish to feel jealous that too over looks,   Yes , He is better than Krish in bed but cmon that Ugly Rapist basterd looking better than Krish , Now its going too far , Making him good guy that is one thing but now Tailoring His appearance to show him like that Even Krish wants to look like him that is too much. 
Its sad if Desai going to fuck her on their last Anniversary , Its Disgusting even for Krish , Krish is such an asshole and Bigger Idiot  here ruining their Anniversary , They could have nice dinner on their last anniversary but He is such pathetic degenerate here. 

Final Standing :- Meera and Desai - 49 
                           Krish - 0
                           This chapter is tie .
Krish could have grown his spine but He got easy on Meera , No fight no drama . For once i wanted to see Krish anger . The anger was needed here even if it was for short time , Lets leave it now , Its over we are way past from that. 
I believe Krish should also return his security Service , Just cut all the ties and Start new life without any link with anyone .

A perfect ending ............... Leading to New Chapter ? After all Its Krish ( Jab Krish 4 movie  a sakti hai to 4th Chapter kyun ni ) 

Peact Out .

[DeanWinchester00007]

It is a good episode, you can feel the emotions and heartbreak flowing through this chapter. However, the separation should have happened earlier and you should have developed the story from there.

For Krish to make a clean break he should have left the Vickey security services.

I believe he should let  Meera choose her future once he has decided to part ways with Meera. At the moment it seems like he is coercing her to move in with Desai.

the separation should have happened earlier and you should have developed the story from there.

Yup .

[RCF]

As I have expected and mentioned before and nothing less, Krish made the ultimate sacrifice for Meera, His love for her is unconditional. Lets see what Meera will do now. That's all I can say about this chapter. All these nights that she showed so much passion for Desai, In her mind Krish was there as her love and her lifeline. Now that backing is gone, will she feel about Desai same way with out Krish in her life or not remains to be seen.

Excellent update as always!

~RCF