Adultery The Facilitator

[Vishal Ramana]

Let the husband die in an accident so that automatically the wife will get the child. Everyone will be happy.

[Harry Jordan]

Why Esha still lying that she is still loving kunal.

That is the crazy part ,according to her she is not. It is that specific part that is very confusing to me , Esha spends almost a majority of the romantic moments with Aniket and she not even once showed any affection or feelings towards Kunal. And yet she is unwilling to give divorce. This is the reason why at times I believe Esha does not deserve a happy ending considering how she ruined and destroyed a man that was loyal and loved her unconditionally. I better hope Esha finds some love when she finds out the truth that Priya manipulated her feelings to make her fall for Aniket. Maybe that way Esha will finally confess her feelings about Kunal and see the error of her ways. Because there is no way a self respecting woman will ever unsee the dedication and love that her husband has given to her.

[opheliyaa]

I think author can finish the story soon rather than dragging. Every character in the story is hard core selfish.

[Harry Jordan]

I think author can finish the story soon rather than dragging. Every character in the story is hard core selfish.

Part Z is the ending. We have only reached till Part T

[clearlover]

Part T-2
As Esha sat in her living room, the legal notice of divorce lay on the center table like a solid white tombstone. It was an unwelcome intruder, shattering the remnants of her once-happy life. Beside her, Priya watched silently, her eyes a strange mix of triumph and something that almost resembled regret.
Esha's voice trembled, a fragile thing on the verge of breaking. "Kunal... he's so bitter."
Priya waited, a stillness in her posture that betrayed the intensity of the moment.
"He accuses me of infidelity," Esha finally managed, each word a painful shard. Her voice cracked. "And... of carrying another man's child." The accusation hung in the air, thick and suffocating.
A single tear escaped, tracing a slow path down Esha's cheek. "And worse," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "he's claiming full custody of Aditya." Her gaze dropped to her hands, twisting a loose thread on the cushion. "He says my presence... and this new relationship... would harm him."
The room felt colder, the silence a heavy blanket suffocating the air. It was a silence born of heartbreak, a corroboration to the chasm that had opened between Esha and Kunal. She hadn't anticipated this level of bitterness, this descent into such extremes of anger and pain from the man who once loved her unconditionally.
"He's still got evidence," Esha choked out, her voice thick with tears. "Old chats... between Aniket and me." Her gaze flickered towards Priya, a silent question hanging in the air. "He kept them. The ones he found... when he first found out."
Tears streamed down her face now, her body trembling with each sob. She turned to Priya, her eyes raw with desperation. "His allegations about Aditya... they aren't true, Priya. I would never harm him."
Priya's expression tightened, the weight of her own complicity a palpable presence in the room.
"You know that," Esha pleaded, her voice ragged with desperation. "Please, you have to vouch for me. Tell them I would never do anything to hurt Aditya."
Priya, her face a mask of composure, nodded. Inside, she was a battleground. Satisfaction at the success of her plan warred with a sharp pang of guilt for its collateral damage – Aditya. "Esha, I'll help you," she said, her voice steady, betraying nothing of the turmoil within. "I have good contacts; we'll get the best lawyer." She knew the accusations against Esha regarding Aditya were wrong, a line that shouldn't have been crossed. The child's well-being was being used as a weapon, and she felt a flicker of shame.
Through her tears, Esha grasped at the lifeline Priya offered. Hope, fragile and tentative, flickered in the darkness. She knew the road ahead would be brutal, a landscape of legal battles and emotional devastation. But the promise of help, however complicated, was something to cling to.
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In the dimly lit bedroom, shadows played across the walls, mirroring the turmoil in Esha's mind. The divorce papers on the nightstand glowed faintly, an exemplification to her unraveling life. As sleep threatened to claim her, her reflection in the vanity mirror seemed to fracture, two Eshas staring back at her, each embodying a different facet of her inner conflict.
The first reflection, eyes sharp with accusation, spoke, her voice a whisper that cut through the silence. "Didn't you think, Esha?" The words hung in the air, heavy with blame.
Esha's gaze drifted to the moonlit ceiling, memories swirling like a tempest. "Not once, but twice you strayed with Aniket," the reflection continued, the words harsh and unforgiving, reminding her of the betrayal that now defined her.
Her mind flashed back to her birthday, the balcony, Aniket, and Kunal's reluctant consent. A line crossed, a boundary broken. She had thought it would be the end, a form of closure. "After your own humiliation on your birthday," the accusing voice pressed on, laced with disappointment, "you promised it was the last time."
"Yet here you are," the reflection continued, pulling her back to the present, "ensnared again. Priya's provocations... and your own weakness for his charm." The words stung, highlighting her complicity in the tangled web of deceit.
Esha's mind replayed her choices, the intoxicating allure of Aniket, the way his passion had eclipsed her better judgment. "Did you really believe," the reflection whispered, echoing her deepest fears, "you could keep this hidden from Kunal? That you could navigate these treacherous waters, balancing on two boats?"
The truth crashed down on her, a suffocating wave. She had been naive, foolish to think her secret life could remain hidden forever. "And now," the reflection pressed, the question a sharp blade twisting in her gut, "this baby? How could you expect Kunal to accept such a drastic step?"
Her hand instinctively went to her belly, a silent acknowledgment of the life growing within her, a living confirmation to her love for Aniket and her betrayal of Kunal. "He's handed you divorce papers," the reflection concluded, the voice laced with a bitter acceptance, "and it's... justifiable. You've shattered the trust, the very foundation of your marriage." The words were a final, crushing blow, a truth she could no longer deny.
"And what about Kunal?" the accusing Esha pressed, her voice hardening. "He was trying. Trying to rekindle the spark, to deepen your intimacy, to understand you after… after witnessing your passion with Aniket. He was learning, attempting to match that fire. But you… you went back to Aniket. Betraying that effort, that growth."
Then, a softer Esha emerged, her voice a fragile whisper, half-lost in the realm of sleep. "It's not that simple," she murmured, a mix of longing and vulnerability lacing her words. "Aniket… his charm was a spell. I couldn't resist. I thought I could keep it hidden. But with Kunal… all I could think about was Aniket. His passion. His… unrestrained love."
A memory, vivid and visceral, pierced the fog of her half-sleep. The heat, the raw energy of their encounter. Esha could almost feel the dampness of the sheets beneath her, the sticky warmth of their bodies entwined. Aniket’s hands, pinning her wrists above her head. Not Kunal’s gentle restraint, his cautious lovemaking. Aniket’s grip was primal, urgent. His touch was an inferno, a world away from Kunal’s careful caresses. It ignited a fire within her, a consuming blaze that left her breathless.
She had begged for respite, her body wrung out, trembling from the relentless waves of orgasms. Her voice was hoarse, a desperate plea. "Aniket, please…enough now," she gasped, each word a ragged breath, "I can't handle any more... I'm literally sore.” The air thick with the lingering heat of their passion, the only sounds the ragged symphony of their breathing and the slick, insistent slap of skin against skin.
But Aniket, his eyes burning with a wild desire, leaned closer. His breath, hot and heavy against her ear, carried a seductive, almost cruel edge. "Just a little more, Esha," he whispered, his voice a silken command. "I know your body's begging for it." He wouldn't relent. His hardness pounded into her depths, a sensation both punishing and divine, a relentless rhythm that stole her breath.
He pushed her over the edge again, and again, each climax a crashing wave, leaving her trembling, a mixture of ecstasy and exhaustion. Her legs shook, her muscles quivered, yet the bittersweet agony fueled a desperate craving for more. "You feel like heaven," he growled, his voice thick with passion, "the way you're gripping me…" His own release was imminent, his movements growing more frantic, possessive.
The room spun around her, the aroma of their sex, the sounds of their bodies merging into a sensory overload – too much, yet not enough. "Aniket," she whimpered, arching into him, craving the sweet pain that lingered after each shattering orgasm. "You're driving me mad."
"Give in to it, Esha," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. His thrusts were deep, possessive, claiming her in a way that felt both punishment and reward. The intensity blurred the lines between pleasure and pain, until she was lost, no longer sure where one ended and the other began.
"Feel how you squeeze me, Esha," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear, each word a shiver down her spine. "Feel how much you want this. Your body speaks the truth, even if your mind resists."
She could barely breathe, her voice a fragile mix of protest and desire. "Aniket..." she whispered, a breathy plea, acknowledging the delicious destruction he was inflicting on her senses. "You'll break me."
Aniket chuckled, his voice dark with playful intent. "I won't let you break, darling," he murmured, pulling her mouth to his in a frenzied, eager kiss. "Just make more and more love."
Back in the dimly lit bedroom, the softer Esha, attempting to justify her actions, spoke, her voice trembling. "Kunal's efforts… they were too late. Too measured. With Aniket, I felt seen. Truly desired. Not just as a wife, but as a woman. A woman with her own desires, her own fire. It wasn't just physical. It was… feeling alive. Feeling like I wasn't just a role, but a being with needs. How could I deny that part of myself?"
"You should have communicated that, not acted on it in secret," the accusing Esha retorted, her voice sharp and unforgiving. "You've broken more than just vows; you've shattered lives, Esha. Your fleeting desires do not justify the enduring pain you've inflicted."
The softer Esha's eyes glistened with unshed tears, her voice a fragile whisper, laced with both guilt and a flicker of defiance. "I know… I know I've hurt them deeply. But can't you see the torment in my heart? I was torn asunder, caught between the comfortable familiarity of family and the burning hunger of desire, between the life I already possessed and the one I desperately yearned for. I won't terminate this pregnancy; it's my penance, my cross to bear. I'll face the consequences, for my children, for the sliver of love that still flickers within me."
The accusing Esha, her gaze like a laser beam cutting through the dim light, pressed her attack, relentless and unforgiving. "Remember college, Esha? Remember the incandescent love you shared with Kunal? The way your eyes sparkled with joy every time he walked to you? Now, look at you, teetering on the precipice of losing him forever. Do you feel no pang of regret at the thought of divorce? Did it ever cross your mind that your actions would lead to this devastating outcome?"
"How could you so easily disregard the sacred commitment you made to Kunal?" the accusing Esha continued, her voice now a raw blend of sorrow and bitter anger. "The home you painstakingly built together, the life you so joyously shared? All of that… callously discarded for the fleeting gratification of bodily desires?"
The softer Esha's eyes fluttered closed, a mask of pain contorting her features as vivid memories flooded her mind: the tender early days of her love with Kunal, the shared joy of creating a home, the long, sleepless nights they spent nursing a feverish Aditya, their laughter echoing through the rooms, filling the house with warmth and light. She felt the sharp sting of the accusation, the brutal realization that her choices had irrevocably led her to this point, standing on the brink of losing everything she had ever held dear. The words reverberated in her ears, the accusation of trading love for fleeting physical pleasure a painful, undeniable truth. She bit her lip, a futile attempt to stem the torrent of tears threatening to spill.
"I... I didn't just desire him," the softer Esha began, her voice trembling, thick with unshed tears. "I fell in love with Aniket. And he loves me too. It's not just about the physical; it's about feeling… complete. Feeling understood, seen for who I truly am."
The accusing Esha scoffed, her reflection shimmering with disdain, a flicker of something almost like pity in her eyes. "Love? Is that what you call it now? You've allowed your heart to lead you into a labyrinth of chaos, Esha."
"But Aniket," the softer Esha whispered, her voice gaining a fragile strength, a spark of defiance. "He loves this baby. He's excited. He's… committed. Can't love evolve? Can't it grow into something… different? Even if it's… complicated?"
The accusing Esha shook her head slowly, her image in the mirror growing more intense, more severe. "Love doesn't excuse the devastation you've wrought. You've conveniently forgotten the love you once shared with Kunal, the life you vowed to build together. And now, you stand amidst the ruins of that sacred promise, all because you chased a fleeting feeling, a momentary passion."
The softer Esha's eyes welled with tears, the weight of her choices pressing down on her like a physical burden. "I know I've made mistakes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "But this baby… it's not a mistake. It's a part of me. A part of us. Aniket's love for our child is real. It's something… I can't just walk away from."
The accusing Esha's voice softened, yet its penetrating quality remained, a gentle probe into the raw wound beneath the surface. "And what about the churning in your stomach, Esha?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of sorrow. "Don't you feel it? The ache of knowing you might have to leave Kunal behind? The nostalgia… those early days, the laughter, the shared dreams, the way he held you when you were afraid, the comfort of his embrace?"
The softer Esha paused, her expression a mask of profound sorrow. Her hand rested on her stomach, a gesture that spoke not only of the life growing within, but also of the hollow emptiness that had taken root where the warmth of their shared past should have resided. The nostalgia was there, a ghost lurking in the shadows of her mind, but she seemed to have built a wall around it, numbing herself to its insistent call. She remembered the cozy nights, the way Kunal would read to Aditya while she cooked, the shared pride they felt in their little family.
"How can you be so detached," the accusing Esha whispered, her voice laced with disbelief and a tangible sense of pain, "from what you once held so dear?"
The softer Esha's eyes squeezed shut, a single tear escaping and tracing a lonely path down her cheek. She desperately tried to summon the feeling, the visceral gut-punch reaction, to the thought of losing Kunal, of him being truly gone from her life. But all she could feel was the immense weight of her choices, the cold, hard reality of her situation settling deep within her soul. "I... I do feel it," she whispered, her voice barely audible, a fragile breath in the quiet room. "But it's like… I've lost the ability to connect with that part of myself that once knew only love for him. It's all so tangled now. A mess of guilt, of fear, of the sheer terror of what I've done."
"You've traded your shared history with Kunal," the accusing Esha continued, her words a mournful lament for the life that could have been, "for a fleeting moment of passion, a stolen time. The house you transformed into a home, the quiet moments of shared intimacy, the boisterous laughter echoing through the rooms, the unspoken unity you found in parenthood… all of that. And for what?"
The softer Esha's heart ached, a deep, visceral pang. The nostalgia, a dormant beast, finally stirred, piercing through her carefully constructed defenses. "I didn't anticipate feeling this… adrift. This utterly disconnected," she confessed, her voice cracking under the strain of her conflicting emotions. "I love Aniket. And he loves me. He loves our baby." She paused, her breath catching in her throat. "But I can't deny… I can't deny that a part of me still feels something for Kunal. A feeling that hurts, that claws at me, because it's so inextricably intertwined with… regret."
The accusing Esha's reflection seemed to soften, a flicker of something akin to compassion in her eyes. "Your heart may be vast enough to hold two loves, Esha," she said gently, yet with an underlying firmness, "but your actions have consequences. You've painted Kunal into a corner, left him with no other choice. And now… you must live with the bittersweet nostalgia of what was, the gnawing ache of what could have been, and the terrifying uncertainty of what will be."
The softer Esha nodded slowly, the full, devastating weight of her choices finally settling upon her shoulders. The nostalgia of her past life with Kunal became a bittersweet, haunting melody playing in the back of her mind, mingling with the fierce, all-consuming love she felt for Aniket and the fragile, burgeoning life growing within her. The room was silent, save for the muffled, heart-wrenching sound of her sobs, as she grappled with the permanence of her decisions and the love she might have irrevocably shattered.
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A few days later, Esha returned from a brief, listless shopping trip. Her arms were laden with a few bags of essentials, yet the weight felt negligible, a mere feather compared to the burden she carried within. Her reclusive state had made shopping a hurried, unsatisfying experience. The parking lot was eerily quiet, the late afternoon sun stretching long, skeletal shadows across the asphalt. As she fumbled with her keys, she encountered Mrs. Desai, one of her neighbors, who was just locking her car.
"Ah, Esha," Mrs. Desai greeted, her tone laced with suspicion, her eyes narrowing slightly as she scrutinized Esha. "Haven't seen you in a while. Where's Kunal? And Aditya?"
Esha hesitated, the weight of her carefully constructed secret pressing down on her, suffocating her. She forced a smile, a brittle, fragile thing. "Oh," she replied, her voice steady despite the frantic hammering of her heart, "they're at Kunal's parents' house. His father… his father's been unwell."
Mrs. Desai's eyebrows arched, her expression a mixture of thinly veiled curiosity and open doubt. "That's… odd. Kunal called my husband several times, asking if you were home. My husband mentioned seeing your lights going on and off, and your dresses hanging out to dry. So I told him you must be here."
Esha's mind raced, panic clawing at her throat. She struggled to maintain her composure, to project an air of normalcy she was far from feeling. "Oh, that…" she stammered, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "We… we had a small fight. About something silly, really. Maybe that's why he's… checking in."
Mrs. Desai seemed to weigh her words, her gaze lingering on Esha for a moment too long. "Well," she finally said, her voice softening slightly, a touch of understanding entering her tone, "couple's life can be… complicated." She gave Esha a curt nod. "I must run. My daughter's waiting for me at her dance class." Her hurried departure was a small, but much-needed, reprieve for Esha's anxious heart.
Once inside the haven of her apartment, Esha closed the door behind her with a soft click, leaning against it as she exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The encounter had left her mind reeling, her thoughts a whirlwind of worry. How long could she maintain this charade? As her pregnancy progressed, hiding the truth would become exponentially more difficult. Her belly would soon be undeniable, and her increasingly solitary existence in the apartment would only fuel further speculation and raise even more intrusive questions.
She moved through her apartment in a daze, her movements mechanical as she put away the few groceries she'd managed to buy. But her mind was miles away, replaying the encounter with Mrs. Desai, the woman's narrowed eyes, the thinly veiled suspicion in her voice. She had managed to remain unseen, a ghost in her own home, for over a month. But the fragile tapestry of her lies was beginning to unravel. The longer Kunal remained absent, the more the whispers would grow, the speculation would intensify, and eventually, the truth, like a persistent weed, would push its way through the cracks. She sank onto the couch, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach, feeling the subtle, yet undeniable, movements of the life growing within her – a life that was no longer hers alone.
Then, a chilling realization washed over her. It was precisely this confirmation of her continued presence in the apartment that had likely triggered Kunal's decision to send the divorce papers. He knew she was still there, occupying their shared space, living a life that no longer included him.
Later that evening, when Priya arrived, Esha recounted the unsettling encounter with her neighbor. "Priya," she confessed, her voice trembling with anxiety, "I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."
Priya listened, her expression thoughtful, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Esha," she suggested, her voice smooth and persuasive, "you should move in with Aniket. You need a man's support now, more than ever. Especially since he's the father of your baby. Aniket is already worried sick about you both. This will put his mind at ease."
Esha shook her head vehemently, her voice rising in protest. "I can't just… leave everything behind," she argued, her voice laced with desperation. "This is our home. My home."
Priya's tone hardened, her words sharp and uncompromising. "Esha, I can't live with you indefinitely. I have my own life, my own space to consider. And let's be realistic, shall we? People will find out about your separation. Having a baby with another man while still technically married to Kunal… it's not exactly something you can easily explain away. If you've made the decision to keep the baby, you need to face the consequences. You need to accept the reality of the situation and… step outside of this home you love so much."
Esha sat in stunned silence, the implications of Priya's words swirling around her, suffocating her. The walls of her apartment, once a shelter of comfort and love, now seemed to be closing in on her, pressing down on her like a physical weight. She considered her situation, the weight of her choices a crushing burden. The thought of leaving her home, the only place she truly felt safe, was a dull ache in her chest. But the truth was undeniable; she had to move forward.
With a heavy heart and a sense of bleak inevitability, Esha picked up her phone and dialed Aniket's number. When he answered, his voice was a mixture of surprise and tentative hope. "Esha? What's up?"
"I'm coming, Aniket," she said, her voice a fragile whisper, a mix of resignation and a flicker of newfound determination. "I… I need to leave this place."
Aniket's relief and joy were evident, even through the static of the phone line. "That's wonderful, Esha!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement. "Pack whatever you need. I'll come by tomorrow in the late afternoon, around the time and place I usually drop you off."
Esha agreed, the weight of her decision settling in her stomach like a cold stone. She knew she had to pack. Not just the essentials, but the things that truly mattered, the tangible pieces of her life that she couldn't bear to leave behind. For herself, yes, but also for the tiny life growing within her. As she began to pack, each item she carefully selected felt like a piece of her past, a memory, a chapter closing, a life she was leaving behind.
Since dropping the phone back onto its cradle, Esha felt the world around her accelerate, the seconds ticking by with an almost cruel rapidity. Each passing moment was a blur, a rush of uncontrollable motion, while she desperately willed time to slow down, to stop, to give her a moment to breathe. But time, like a relentless river, flowed onward, carrying her with it, never turning back to its source.
She began to pace restlessly, her footsteps echoing through the rooms that once resonated with laughter and love, now filled with a haunting silence. Every corner of the apartment whispered memories, each one a sharp reminder of what she was about to leave behind, what she was about to lose. She yearned, with a desperate ache in her chest, for time to reverse its course, for a chance to undo her mistakes, to rewrite her story.
If only… The thought echoed in her mind, a litany of regrets. If only she hadn't agreed to meet Aniket alone in that café. His first kiss, the spark that ignited their all-consuming affair, might never have happened. If only, in Delhi, she had possessed the strength to resist. She should have seen Priya’s subtle manipulations for what they were, should have pushed back against Aniket’s undeniable charm. She could have maintained her distance, protected the boundaries that now lay shattered at her feet, irreparable.
Her heart ached with a raw, visceral pain as she silently pleaded with any higher power that might be listening. She begged for a time machine, a chance to go back, to choose a different path. But she knew, deep down, that her plea was futile, a desperate grasp at the impossible. Time was an unyielding force, bending to no one's will, least of all the weight of human regret.
As she drifted from the living room to the kitchen, from Aditya's brightly colored space to the balcony where she and Kunal had shared so many quiet, intimate evenings, the weight of her decisions settled upon her like a shroud. She touched the familiar surfaces, the smooth wood of the furniture, the cool plaster of the walls, the glass of framed photos, each a tangible evidence to a life she had cherished, a life she was now walking away from. The clock on the wall ticked on relentlessly, indifferent to her inner turmoil, a steady, unwavering march forward into a future she felt wholly unprepared to face.
The next day arrived with the definite inevitability of dawn, bringing with it the moment Esha had simultaneously dreaded and anticipated. With trembling hands, she carefully packed a framed family photo into a quiet corner of her suitcase, a silent, poignant tribute to the life she was leaving behind, a life that now felt so distant, so unattainable. She moved through her home one last time, her fingers brushing against familiar objects, each touch a silent farewell to the past, a lingering caress on memories she knew would soon fade.
Esha gathered Kunal's clothes, still bearing the faint fragrance of his perfume, Aditya's well-loved toys, clutching them to her chest as if trying to imprint the essence of her family, the warmth of their shared life, into her very soul, to carry them with her, a phantom limb, even as she physically stepped away. Her fingers lingered on the soft fabric of Kunal's shirts, the smooth plastic of Aditya's toys, each touch a goodbye, each sensation a precious memory she desperately wished she could hold onto forever.
With a heart heavy with regret and unshed tears, she wrote a note on a small, pink slip of paper, her handwriting shaky and uneven with the force of her emotions. "I'm sorry, Kunal," it read, a simple sentence that could never fully encapsulate the profound depth of her remorse, the agonizing weight of her choices. She placed the note on the kitchen counter, in plain sight, knowing Kunal would find it there, a message from the ghost of their past, if he ever returned.
Locking the door to her apartment, to her home, felt like sealing away a part of her very being. The click of the lock echoed in the silence of her departure, a sound of finality, a sharp, piercing note that resonated with the finality of her actions. She took one last, lingering look at the place that had been her retreat, her haven, her world, now just an empty shell, a hollow echo of what once was.
Priya drove Esha to the pre-arranged spot where Aniket waited, her eyes occasionally flicking towards Esha, sensing the storm raging within her, yet keeping her thoughts, her own complex emotions, carefully concealed. She knew, deep down, that she had played a pivotal role in this unfolding drama, her subtle manipulations, her carefully chosen words, acting as a catalyst for the current, devastating situation. The silence in the car was thick, heavy, pregnant with unspoken words, each one a silent witness to the irreversible decisions made, the paths irrevocably chosen. As they approached Aniket’s car, Priya felt a strange mix of triumph, a sense of satisfaction at the successful execution of her plan, and an unexpected, unsettling twinge of guilt. She had orchestrated this moment, had pulled the strings that led to this point, yet seeing Esha’s obvious sorrow, the raw grief etched on her face, stirred something within her, a flicker of conscience she hadn't anticipated. She was about to leave Esha in Aniket’s care, handing her off, as it were, marking the definitive end of one chapter of Esha's life and the uncertain beginning of another, a chapter that would forever be defined by the choices she had made.
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At Aniket's house, the air vibrated with a new kind of tension, a different kind of weight. While Esha had been here many times before, this visit carried an entirely new significance. This was the first time she crossed the threshold not as a clandestine lover, but as Aniket's partner, her presence marking a new chapter in their lives. Aniket, with a sensitivity that surprised her, had kept the décor simple, yet had added small, thoughtful touches, acknowledging the delicate, fragile nature of their new beginning.
Esha, though still lost in the swirling vortex of her emotions, allowed a faint, tentative smile to touch her lips as she stepped inside. Aniket, sensing the complex mix of feelings warring within her, took her hand gently, his touch reassuring, and led her to their bedroom. The ambiance there was warm, inviting, a haven of soft lighting and comforting colors. "It feels like… my dream of waking up next to you every day is finally within reach," he said softly, his voice carefully measured, aware of the pain she carried. "I never wanted to hurt you, Esha."
This room, which had once been a space of stolen moments, of secret trysts, now held the potential to become her new asylum, a place of refuge. A thought flickered through her mind: perhaps fate, in its inscrutable wisdom, had guided her here, to this moment, to this new, uncharted destiny. As she stood there, contemplating the possibilities, she placed a protective hand over her belly, feeling the gentle flutter of the life growing within her, another tangible symbol of their bond.
Aniket knelt beside her, his touch feather-light, reverent. His lips brushed against her swollen belly, a tender, loving gesture. "Hello, little one," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, laced with love and the boundless joy of new beginnings.
Esha, watching this intimate, tender scene, felt a surge of fierce, protective love. A sudden fear, sharp and piercing, twisted in her gut. "If I were to love Aditya," she asked, her voice trembling slightly, "the same way I love this baby… would you ever object?" The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken anxieties: the fear of further fracturing her already broken family, the uncertainty of gaining custody of Aditya, the knowledge that Kunal was seeking full custody in the divorce proceedings.
Aniket's gaze lifted to meet hers, his eyes filled with unwavering support and a depth of understanding. "Esha," he said, his voice warm and reassuring, "I consider Aditya as much my son as this baby will be. Your love for him is… beautiful. And I would never, never object to it. We'll build our family here, together. And we'll hope… we'll hope for the best regarding Aditya."
His words washed over Esha, a soothing balm on her raw and wounded heart. The tension that had been coiled tight within her began to loosen, the fear receding slightly. Here, in this house, a place she had visited many times before, but now as Aniket’s partner, she began to tentatively envision a future, a place where healing could begin. A place where she could love both of her children equally, without reservation, without fear. A place where she might finally find a semblance of peace amidst the chaos, a fragile hope for a new beginning, all while clinging to the uncertain dream of one day reuniting with Aditya, bringing her family back together.
The night at Aniket's house was quiet, the silence broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioner and the rhythm of Esha's measured breaths. Aniket had just finished giving her a soothing back massage, his hands moving with a gentle tenderness that seemed to amplify the turmoil raging within her heart. They lay together, his arm dbangd protectively around her, but the silence between them was not one of peaceful contentment. It was a heavy, oppressive silence, laden with the weight of unspoken sorrow, a chasm of unacknowledged emotions.
Aniket, sensing the vast distance between them, spoke softly, his voice laced with concern. "Esha," he murmured, his words carefully chosen, "you seem so distant. Are you… unhappy here? With me?" He paused, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air. "Is it… is it still love for Kunal that keeps you so quiet?"
Aniket's heart clenched, a physical ache in his chest, as he understood the profound depth of her pain, the agonizing weight of her indecision. He held her closer, his embrace a silent acknowledgment of her struggle, his presence a quiet promise that she wasn't alone in navigating this complex, treacherous maze of emotions.
A bold question, impulsive yet carefully considered, formed in Aniket's mind, a question that could either solidify their bond or shatter it completely. "Esha," he ventured, his voice steady despite the frantic beating of his heart, "would you… would you marry me?"
Esha's eyes widened in surprise, the unexpected question catching her completely off guard. She was momentarily speechless, her mind reeling, struggling to process the implications of his proposal. The words hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken emotions, with the weight of their shared history and the uncertain future that lay before them. "I… I don't know, Aniket," she finally managed to say, her voice a fragile mix of shock, confusion, and hesitant contemplation. "I… I need to think about it."
Aniket, seeing the turmoil swirling in her eyes, the confusion and uncertainty that clouded her expression, pressed gently, his voice soft and understanding. "Think about what, Esha?"
She took a deep, steadying breath, her hand instinctively resting on her belly, feeling the gentle flutter of life within. "Our baby…" she began, her voice a whisper, "he'll need a name. We’ll… we’ll be close to that moment soon.” Her words were a deliberate attempt to anchor herself in the present, to focus on the immediate, the tangible reality of the life they had created. "And… and legally," she added, her voice tightening with anxiety, "he'll need a father's name on his birth certificate. I… I need to decide soon”. "But," she continued, her tone turning serious, thoughtful, "I think… I think we should wait. We should see how the legal case with Kunal unfolds. I need to know… I need to know where I stand there, legally, before I can… before I can make any big decisions. About anything."
Aniket nodded slowly, understanding the complex web of emotions and legal ramifications that bound her, that held her back. He respected her need for time, for clarity, for a sense of stability in the midst of the storm. "Okay," he whispered, pulling her closer, his embrace a silent promise of support. "We'll wait. And we'll see… together." His words were a pledge of patience, a commitment to navigating the uncertain future hand-in-hand, a quiet reassurance that he would be there, by her side, no matter what the future held.
——————
Esha sat perched on the edge of a leather chair in Advocate Gupta's office, the air thick with the odor of aged paper and the oppressive weight of the looming deadline. Beside her, Priya wore a mask of concern, her eyes occasionally flicking towards Esha, sensing the turbulent emotions churning beneath the surface. The gentle whir of the fan filled the room, a counterpoint to the tense silence, until Advocate Gupta, a seasoned lawyer with sharp, intelligent features and an even sharper mind, cleared his throat, the sound crisp and decisive.
"Mrs. Esha," Gupta began, his voice carrying the gravity of the situation, "we have less than fifteen days to respond to this notice. We need a strong counter-argument. Kunal's allegations are serious, and if we don't address them effectively, they could severely impact your case."
Priya leaned forward, her voice laced with undisguised urgency. "He's accusing Esha of being an unfit mother, of potentially harming Aditya. What… what can we do?"
Gupta adjusted his spectacles, flipping through the stack of legal documents spread across his desk. "We can counter with allegations of his own misconduct," he stated, his tone pragmatic. "We can imply that he was… neglectful. That he…" He paused, searching for the right, impactful word, "that he might have been unfaithful as well. It's about creating reasonable doubt, planting a seed of uncertainty in the Justice's mind, making them see that there are two sides to this story."
Esha's head shook almost imperceptibly, a small, decisive movement. Her voice, though soft, carried a firm resolve. "No, Advocate Gupta," she said, her tone unwavering. "I won't fabricate allegations against Kunal. He was a good husband. A good father. I won't… I won't demean him, not for my own benefit."
Gupta’s features tightened with frustration. "Mrs. Esha, you need to understand," he said, his voice strained, "we're in a legal battle, not a moral one. Sometimes, to protect your rights, to ensure you can be with your son, you have to… you have to play the game."
Esha's eyes, reflecting a quiet strength, were unwavering. "I understand the game, Advocate Gupta," she replied, her voice steady. "But I won't play it that way. My focus is on Aditya. On maintaining my right to be his parent. I won't… I won't lie to achieve that."
Priya interjected, a note of desperation in her voice. "Can't we focus on Esha's relationship with Aditya?" she suggested, her gaze shifting between Esha and the lawyer. "The love, the bond they share? The video calls? Surely those are… relevant?"
Gupta nodded, his expression softening slightly as he recognized the potential opportunity. "Yes," he agreed, his tone shifting to one of strategic planning. "That's a strong point. We'll emphasize your maternal dedication, the stability you provide for Aditya. We'll bring up the video calls, any and all evidence of your consistent involvement in his life. We can also portray Kunal's sudden claim for full custody as an act of retaliation, born out of anger and hurt, rather than genuine concern for Aditya's well-being."
He paused, considering the nuances of his strategy. "We'll argue for joint custody," he explained, "highlighting how both parents can offer love, support, and a stable environment. We'll demonstrate that your personal life, however… complicated, does not diminish your capacity to be a loving and devoted parent. But," he added, his voice hardening slightly, "this will require a great deal from you, Mrs. Esha. We need to gather every piece of evidence we can find that showcases your involvement in Aditya's life. Testimonials from those who have witnessed the bond you share, who can attest to your love and dedication as a mother."
Esha nodded, her heart heavy with the burden of the situation, but her resolve clear and unwavering. "I'll do whatever it takes for Aditya," she affirmed, her voice firm. "But… I won't resort to tarnishing Kunal's reputation with false claims. I won't stoop to that level."
Gupta sighed, his frustration a perceptible presence in the room. Yet, he respected Esha's unwavering stance, her refusal to compromise her integrity. "Alright," he conceded, his voice resigned. "We'll build our case on your integrity, your strength as a mother. We'll fight for shared custody, but… understand, Mrs. Esha, it might be an uphill battle. A very difficult fight, especially without resorting to more… aggressive tactics."
Priya squeezed Esha's hand reassuringly, offering silent support and understanding. Then, a glint of strategic thought sparking in her eyes, Priya spoke up. "Advocate Gupta," she suggested, her tone thoughtful, "can you… can you work on making me a third party in this case? I could try to convince Kunal to agree to co-parenting. Maybe… maybe if he hears it from someone he's not currently at odds with, he might be more receptive. It could also give me a chance to… navigate the situation from a different angle, a less adversarial one."
Gupta considered this suggestion, nodding slowly as he weighed the potential benefits. "That… that could work," he agreed. "If you can act as a mediator, a neutral third party, it might significantly help. We can file a motion to recognize you as an intervener or mediator in the case. This would formally give you the standing to propose a co-parenting plan outside of the courtroom, potentially saving everyone involved a lot of heartache, a lot of unnecessary legal battles."
Priya met Esha's gaze, her expression thoughtful, almost calculating. "I'll do it," she stated, her voice firm, betraying a hint of something more than simple altruism. "For Aditya. For you. I'll talk to Kunal."
Esha's eyes welled with gratitude, the immense weight of her situation momentarily lifted by the unwavering support of her friend. "Thank you, Priya," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I… I don't know how to thank you."
Gupta leaned back in his chair, his mind already racing, sifting through legal precedents, formulating arguments, strategizing their approach. "I'll draft the response," he said, his voice businesslike, "focusing on your bond with Aditya, your character as a mother. We'll need to move quickly, gather every piece of supporting evidence we can. And you," he pointed a finger at Esha, his gaze direct, "need to be prepared for anything. This… this might get messy."
Esha met his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and unwavering determination. "I'm ready," she affirmed, her voice firm. "For Aditya."
The meeting concluded with a plan. Not a plan built on deceit and retaliatory counter-allegations, but one founded on truth, love, and strategic mediation. They would attempt to navigate the often-treacherous legal system with integrity, respecting the complexities of the past while fiercely fighting for a more hopeful future. Gupta, despite his initial frustration at Esha's refusal to play "dirty," was now energized by the challenge of defending her case with honor and skill. Priya's newly appointed role as mediator, however, added another layer of complexity. It offered a distinct tactical advantage, hinting at her own ongoing game.

(TBC....)

[clearlover]

Part T-2

Finally, the day arrived. The legal battle for Esha's future, and, most importantly, for the custody of Aditya, even if it was to be joint custody, had begun. The courtroom was a theater of tension, the air thick with anticipation, heavy with the weight of impending judgment. Esha sat, hands clasped tightly in her lap, her knuckles tight, her eyes occasionally meeting Kunal's across the room. His gaze was a complex mix of hurt, resentment, and accusation. The room was hushed, the silence broken only by the rustle of legal documents and the barely audible murmur of the gathered spectators.
Justice Dhiman, her face a mask of impartial authority, called the session to order, her voice resonating through the tense courtroom.
Ms. Roy, representing Kunal, rose to her feet, her posture confident, her voice firm and unwavering as she began her opening statement. "Your Honor," she stated, her words ringing with conviction, "we allege infidelity on the part of Mrs. Esha, who is also carrying another man's child. These actions, these clear breaches of trust and commitment, speak volumes about her character and judgment. These character flaws, we argue, directly and negatively impact her ability to parent Aditya."
Mr. Gupta, Esha's advocate, rose to counter Ms. Roy's claims, his demeanor calm and resolute, his voice steady and persuasive. "Your Honor," he addressed the Justice, "we do not contest the personal allegations of infidelity or the fact of Mrs. Esha's current pregnancy at this point in time. However, we vehemently oppose the implication that these personal aspects of her life, these choices she has made, in any way diminish her love for Aditya, or her unwavering involvement in his life. Her dedication as a mother has not, and will not, waver."
The Justice nodded, her expression acknowledging the complexities of the case, the delicate balance between personal conduct and parental fitness. "While the matters of infidelity and the new pregnancy will be duly considered as part of the overall separation proceedings," she stated, her voice clear and authoritative, "the immediate and paramount concern before this court must be Aditya's custody. Let us address that matter first."
Mr. Gupta continued, his voice steady and persuasive, "We have substantial evidence to demonstrate Mrs. Esha's unwavering maternal dedication. We have video recordings of her interacting lovingly with Aditya, his college records showcasing her active participation in his education and extracurricular activities, and, most importantly, we have testimonials from individuals who have observed their close and loving relationship firsthand. We propose a joint custody arrangement, Your Honor, emphasizing the fundamental right of a child to the love and nurturing of both parents."
Ms. Roy countered, her voice sharp and pointed, "Your Honor, while we acknowledge Mrs. Esha's past involvement in Aditya's life, we must also consider the stability and moral environment that Mr. Kunal can provide. He has been the primary caregiver for the past several months, offering Aditya a consistent and stable home environment. We must question whether Mrs. Esha's current lifestyle, given the circumstances, can offer the same level of stability and consistency that Aditya requires."
The focus of the arguments shifted, the courtroom's attention now fixed on the evidence presented by both sides.
"Your Honor," Mr. Gupta stated, his voice confident, "we have compiled significant evidence showcasing Mrs. Esha's unwavering dedication to Aditya. Here," he said, passing an electronic tablet to the court clerk, "is footage of Esha reading to Aditya, helping him with his homework, sharing joyful moments at the park. These videos were recorded before the current separation, demonstrating a consistent pattern of loving care."
Ms. Roy countered, her tone skeptical. "While these videos undeniably show affection, they do not negate the fact that Mr. Kunal has been Aditya's sole caregiver during these crucial past months, providing him with a consistent and stable home. We question the stability that Mrs. Esha's current living situation can offer, especially given her ongoing involvement with Mr. Aniket."
Mr. Gupta swiftly interjected. "Your Honor," he argued, his voice firm and persuasive, "we contend that stability isn't solely defined by physical location, by who lives where. It's about the quality of love, care, and attention a child receives. Esha's fundamental relationship with Aditya remains unchanged. We have seen, through the video footage, the undeniable joy that lights up Aditya's face at the sight of his mother"
Justice Dhiman, carefully weighing the arguments presented, addressed the courtroom. "I see the merit in hearing from Aditya directly," she stated, her voice thoughtful. "However, we must approach this with sensitivity and care. I will adjourn this court for one week to arrange for Aditya to appear via video link. This will not be an interrogation, but rather an opportunity for him to express his feelings, his preferences, in his own words, within a safe and comfortable environment."
Ms. Roy interjected, her tone laced with concern. "Your Honor," she argued, "this… this could be incredibly overwhelming for the child. His well-being should not be compromised for the sake of this hearing, for the sake of legal proceedings."
Mr. Gupta countered smoothly, "We share the concern for Aditya's well-being, Your Honor. This video interaction will be conducted with a qualified child psychologist present to ensure Aditya's comfort and emotional security. This is about understanding his emotional state, his needs, not about creating unnecessary drama or further traumatizing the child."
Justice Dhiman nodded, considering the arguments. "Very well," she stated. "We will arrange for a child-friendly setting, ensuring a supportive and non-threatening environment for Aditya. Now, regarding the proposed mediation, Mr. Gupta?"
"Your Honor," Mr. Gupta replied, "we propose mediation facilitated by Ms. Priya. She is known to both parties and has expressed a willingness to help find a more amicable resolution, one that prioritizes Aditya's needs and well-being above all else."
Ms. Roy immediately voiced her reservations. "Your Honor," she objected, her voice sharp, "Ms. Priya's neutrality in this matter is highly questionable, given her past involvement in the parties' personal lives. We have serious concerns about her ability to remain impartial."
Priya, standing at the back of the courtroom, her face a carefully crafted mask of concern, her mind a whirlwind of strategic calculations, awaited the Justice's decision. "I understand the concerns raised by Ms. Roy," Justice Dhiman acknowledged, her voice measured, "but mediation can often offer a pathway to a more peaceful resolution, especially in cases involving children. It can provide a less adversarial environment, one that prioritizes the child's well-being. I will allow Ms. Priya to serve as mediator in this case, but under strict supervision. If any bias, perceived or otherwise, is detected, the court will immediately reconsider this decision."
Kunal's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching in his cheek, as the court agreed to Priya's role as mediator. His acceptance was reluctant, laced with suspicion and caution. He was wary, unsure of what game Priya was playing this time, her past manipulations still a fresh, painful memory. He resolved to be vigilant, to watch her every move, determined not to allow her to manipulate the situation further to her own advantage.
As the court adjourned, the air in the courtroom crackled with anticipation, heavy with the weight of what the next week would bring. The video call with Aditya would be pivotal, a potentially decisive factor that could sway the Justice's final decision. Meanwhile, Priya's role as mediator would be scrutinized, her actions in the coming days critical to the outcome of this fractured family's future.
As the courtroom began to empty, the solemnity of the proceedings lingering in the air, Esha leaned towards Mr. Gupta and whispered urgently in his ear. He nodded, understanding her request, and, standing, addressed the Justice. "Your Honor," he stated respectfully, "Mrs. Esha requests a brief moment to speak with Mr. Kunal, if the court permits."
Justice Dhiman, sensing the raw emotion behind the request, looked towards Kunal, her expression thoughtful. Kunal, however, shook his head stiffly, his face set in a mask of resentment. "I have no desire for further discussions," he stated, his voice hard and unyielding.
The Justice, weighing the situation, decided, "Given the circumstances of this case, and the court's primary focus on the child's welfare, I will permit a brief interaction between the parties. However," she added, her gaze sweeping over both Esha and Kunal, "this interaction will take place in the presence of both legal counsels."
Esha's eyes, filled with a desperate plea, met Kunal's as she approached him, the two lawyers standing nearby, observing the interaction with watchful eyes. She extended her hand towards him, offering the keys to their shared apartment, a symbolic gesture of separation. "Kunal," she began, her voice thick with unshed tears, heavy with the weight of regret, "I… I'm so sorry. For everything."
Kunal looked away, his jaw clenched tightly, his body rigid. He was either unable or unwilling to meet her gaze, the pain and anger etched on his face a barrier between them.
Esha persisted, her hand still outstretched, the keys dangling from her fingers. "I don't… I don't want anything," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "I just… I just want you to consider co-parenting Aditya. He… he needs both of us. I love him so much."
Kunal's fist clenched, his voice rising with a mixture of raw anger and deep, wounded pain. "You think," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness, "you can play the innocent after all the havoc you've wreaked? After tearing apart our lives, our family?" His gaze finally met hers, his eyes blazing with accusation, the hurt and betrayal noticeable. "You don't even deserve… you don't even deserve Aditya's shadow!"
Ms. Roy, his lawyer, stepped in quickly, her voice a low, sharp warning. "Mr. Kunal, please," she cautioned, her tone firm, "calm yourself. Such statements… such emotional outbursts… could be detrimental to your case in court."
Kunal took a deep, shuddering breath, visibly struggling to regain control of his emotions. He looked at Esha, his eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. "Do you have anything else to say?" he demanded, his voice cold and clipped.
Esha, her eyes now brimming with tears, her face a mask of pain and profound regret, remained silent, unable to articulate the complex emotions that overwhelmed her. Kunal, seeing no further response, no further plea, turned sharply on his heel and left the courtroom with hastened, angry steps, the door closing behind him with a definitive, resounding thud.
Priya, who had been observing this emotionally charged exchange from a corner of the courtroom, her face a study in carefully calculated neutrality, noted every detail, every nuance of the interaction. Her mind was already racing, formulating strategies, considering how this new dynamic, this raw display of emotion, could play into her mediation strategy. She knew the landscape of the case had shifted, the emotional undercurrents now more volatile than ever, and she would need to navigate this new, treacherous terrain with even greater care, even greater cunning, to achieve her own, as yet, undisclosed ends.
———————————
Kunal stepped into the familiar quiet of his parents' home in Pune, each step heavier than the last, the weight of the day's legal battles pressing down on him like a physical burden. The house was enveloped in darkness, the only illumination the soft, reassuring glow of the nightlight in Aditya's room, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to stretch and writhe, mirroring the troubled thoughts that plagued him. He moved with deliberate silence, each footfall careful and measured, trying not to disturb the fragile peace of the house, desperately hoping that Aditya was fast asleep, safely tucked away in the world of dreams.
But just as he reached Aditya's bedroom door, it creaked open, the sound slicing through the stillness like an unexpected, jarring note. Standing there, silhouetted against the dim light, was Aditya. His small frame was enveloped in soft pajamas, his hair a wild, tousled nest from sleep, his eyes still heavy with the lingering remnants of dreams, yet sparkling with an innocent, hopeful light.
"Papa," Aditya whispered, his voice soft and sleepy, yet carrying the immense weight of unspoken hopes, the pure, unadulterated longing of a child's heart. "Did you go… to meet Mumma?"
Kunal stopped in his tracks, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. He was taken aback, surprised and disoriented. His mind raced, trying to understand how Aditya could possibly know about the court hearing, about his mother's presence there. "Adi," he began gently, his voice a tender inquiry, laced with a touch of confusion, "how… how do you know about that?"
Aditya, yawning widely, his small hand rubbing sleep from his eyes, looked up at his father, his gaze clear and innocent. "I saw a dream, Papa," he murmured, his voice filled with the uncomplicated simplicity of childhood, where dreams held as much weight, as much truth, as waking reality. "I was… with Mumma, playing in park. And she was… smiling."
The words struck Kunal like a physical blow, a sharp, unexpected pain that pierced through his carefully constructed defenses. His resolve, so firm just hours ago in the courtroom, began to crumble under the weight of Aditya's innocent revelation. He knelt down, his arms instinctively opening to embrace his son, needing the physical connection, needing the warmth and comfort of Aditya's small body pressed against his own. His mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts, the dawning realization that, no matter how much time had passed, no matter the distance or the legal battles, Aditya's connection to Esha remained as strong, as vital, as ever. Here, in the quiet intimacy of the night, with Aditya's head nestled against his shoulder, Kunal felt a pang of guilt, a heavy sense of fighting a battle he might not, perhaps should not, win. He began to question the very foundation of his actions, wondering if this legal war was more about assuaging his own wounded pride, his own sense of betrayal, than it was about Aditya's true well-being.
Kunal felt a sharp pang of guilt, a heavy, suffocating weight settling in his chest. He had poured all his energy into distracting Aditya, filling his days with new experiences, new toys, new friends, desperately trying to mend what felt like a deep, irreparable fracture in their lives, in their family. Yet, despite all his efforts, all his well-intentioned attempts to fill the void, the bond between Aditya and Esha remained as strong, as resilient, as ever. An unbreakable thread, woven with love and shared history, that no amount of time, no amount of distance, could weaken.
His anger at Esha, however, was a burning flame within him, an inferno fueled by betrayal, by the deep, visceral wound to his pride. In his mind's eye, he conjured images of those clandestine nights, Esha with Aniket, their shadows merging in a dance of passion he had never witnessed, yet could picture with painful clarity. He imagined her laughter, her whispers, all directed not towards him, but towards another man. How could she have been so careless, so selfish, so utterly thoughtless, not sparing a single thought for how her actions would ripple through their son's life, shattering the innocence of his childhood? The very thought that she could be near Aditya, even in the ephemeral space of dreams, reignited his fury, stoking the embers of his resentment into a raging blaze once more.
Kunal's mind was a tempest, a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. On one hand, he saw the raw innocence and unconditional love shining in Aditya's eyes, a child who missed his mother desperately, whose world had been shattered by her absence. On the other hand, there was the image of Esha, his wife, whom he now saw only through the distorted lens of betrayal and anger, a woman who had, in his eyes, forsaken her role as a mother, her responsibilities to her family, when she strayed. He was not ready, not willing, to entertain any justification from her side, his mind firmly convinced that she was the sole architect of their family's disintegration.
He held Aditya closer, his embrace tightening, his voice thick with the strain of his inner turmoil. "Adi," he said, his voice rough with emotion, "you know Papa loves you very much, right?"
Aditya nodded, his small arms wrapping tightly around Kunal's neck, his little body seeking comfort and reassurance. "Yes, Papa," he whispered. "But… Mumma?"
Kunal felt the sting of unshed tears, the burning behind his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. "I know, Adi," he murmured, his voice heavy with a sadness he couldn't conceal. "I know you miss her." His words were a concession, an acknowledgment of the love his son held for his mother, a love he couldn't deny, even if he couldn't reconcile it with his own wounded sense of justice and the raw, unyielding pain of betrayal.
In that moment, with Aditya's warm, trusting body pressed against his, Kunal was torn. Torn between the fierce, primal desire to protect his son from further pain, from the harsh realities of the adult world, and the dawning realization that perhaps the pain was already there, a deep, gaping wound in the shape of a mother's absence. Looking into Aditya's innocent eyes, he momentarily saw a flicker of that same innocence reflected in Esha's eyes, a fleeting glimpse of the love she still held for their son. But then, just as quickly, his anger surged back, a tidal wave of resentment and bitterness, undiminished, a dark, brutal reminder of her betrayal. He couldn't ignore the undeniable truth that Aditya's heart was still with his mother, no matter how much he wished it were otherwise, no matter how much he yearned to erase her from their lives.
——————————
A week later, the courtroom reconvened, the atmosphere even more charged than before, the air thick with anticipation and a concrete sense of apprehension. Justice Dhiman, true to her word, had arranged for a private video conference to take place in her chambers, aiming to create a more comfortable, less intimidating setting for Aditya. Esha and Kunal sat at opposite ends of the room, flanked by their respective lawyers, the tension between them a tangible force, a silent undercurrent in the otherwise quiet room.
The large monitor on the wall flickered to life, the screen revealing a bright, cheerful image of Aditya. He was surrounded by his favorite toys, his eyes sparkling with excitement, a child psychologist seated beside him, ready to gently guide the conversation, to ensure his emotional well-being.
As Esha's image appeared on the screen, Aditya's face erupted into a wide, joyful smile, his small hands waving enthusiastically. "Mumma!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with uncontainable delight. "You came!" His voice was a melody of pure, unadulterated joy, an attestation to the unwavering bond between mother and son.
Esha's eyes welled up, tears blurring her vision, her heart swelling with a mixture of overwhelming love and a deep, aching longing. "Adi!!” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion, "my baby! How are you, my love?"
"I had a dream, Mumma," Aditya continued, his voice eager, filled with the excitement of a child sharing a precious secret. "We were playing in the park, just like before!" His words were a bridge to their shared past, a poignant reminder of happier times, of a life that now felt so distant, so irretrievably lost.
Justice Dhiman, observing this tender, heartfelt exchange between mother and son, leaned forward, her voice softening, yet still carrying the weight of her authority. "Hello, Aditya," she said warmly, her tone gentle and reassuring. "I'm Justice Dhiman. I'm so glad you could talk with us today."
Aditya, a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanor, nodded politely, his eyes darting between his parents, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "Hello, Aunty," he replied, his voice barely a whisper, the picture of childish innocence.
"Do you enjoy living with your Papa?" Justice Dhiman inquired, her tone carefully neutral, yet laced with genuine concern for the child's well-being.
Aditya's face lit up, his earlier shyness forgotten, his words bubbling over with enthusiasm and pride. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "Papa is very fun. He takes me to the zoo, and we play cricket together in the garden." He glanced at Kunal, a shy smile spreading across his face. Kunal's eyes, in response, shone with a mixture of paternal love and a lingering shadow of sorrow.
The Justice then gently steered the conversation towards Esha, her voice soft and encouraging. "And what about when you see your Mumma?" she asked. "How does that make you feel?"
"I feel so happy!" Aditya declared, his voice like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds, his eyes shining with uncontainable joy. "Mumma reads me stories, and she makes the best food!" His gaze was fixed on Esha, his smile wide and genuine. Esha's heart, in turn, was both lifted and broken by his words, a bittersweet mixture of love and longing.
Justice Dhiman paused, her expression thoughtful, her eyes flickering between the images of the separated parents and the bright, innocent face of their child. "It's clear," she stated gently, "that you love both your Mumma and your Papa very much, isn't it?"
"Yes, I love them so much," Aditya affirmed, his small voice filled with conviction, his eyes conveying the depth of his affection for both his parents.
"Do you feel sad when you can't see one of them?" Justice Dhiman probed gently, her voice laced with empathy and understanding.
Aditya's face fell, a shadow of sadness clouding his features, his small brow furrowing with concern. "I miss Mumma when she's not here," he admitted, his voice quiet. "And sometimes… I miss Papa when he's busy with work." His words carried the weight of a child's simple, yet profound, longing for the presence of both his parents.
Kunal, watching this unfold, felt his lingering anger towards Esha clash violently with the undeniable love and longing Aditya so clearly expressed for his mother. His heart was torn, caught in a painful tug-of-war between his fierce, protective instincts and the deep, aching pain of his own wounded heart.
Esha, witnessing her son's sadness, his innocent expression of longing, fought back tears, her resolve to be with him, to be a part of his life, stronger than ever.
Justice Dhiman continued, her voice soothing and reassuring. "Aditya," she asked, "if you could see both Mumma and Papa often, would that make you happy?"
Aditya's eyes lit up once more, his answer immediate and enthusiastic. "Yes!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with hope and excitement.
Justice Dhiman nodded, her gaze thoughtful, her mind considering how this child's innocent heart, his simple desires, were the true compass guiding this complex case. "Aditya," she said warmly, "you've been very brave talking to us today. Thank you for sharing your feelings."
Aditya beamed, the praise momentarily lifting the weight of the situation, his childish focus shifting back to the world of play. "Can I go back to playing now, please?" he asked, his eyes bright with anticipation.
"Of course, Aditya," Justice Dhiman replied with a warm, encouraging smile. "Thank you for being so honest with us."
As the screen faded to black, plunging the room back into a quiet stillness, the silence was profound, each person lost in their own thoughts, the weight of Aditya's innocent words settling upon them. Justice Dhiman's expression was one of deep contemplation, her mind carefully weighing the evidence, the arguments, and, most importantly, the clear and heartfelt desire of a child to maintain a strong connection with both of his parents. She knew that Aditya's words, his simple, honest plea, would significantly influence her forthcoming decision on the matter of custody.
After a short recess, the courtroom reconvened, the air still thick with the echoes of Aditya's heartfelt words, his innocent longing. Justice Dhiman, her demeanor composed yet empathetic, addressed both legal teams, her voice clear and authoritative.
"After carefully observing the interaction between Aditya and both his parents," she began, "and considering all the evidence presented before this court, it is evident that there is no basis to the claim that Mrs. Esha is an unfit mother. The child's bond with his mother is undeniable, a strong and loving connection that must be preserved. Therefore," she declared, her voice firm and resolute, "I order both parties to work collaboratively towards establishing a comprehensive co-parenting plan. You have one month from today to present this court with a mutually agreeable modality that serves Aditya's best interests. The well-being of the child is, and will remain, the paramount concern of this court."
Mr. Gupta, Esha's lawyer, nodded in agreement, a small, satisfied smile of relief spreading across his face. Ms. Roy, representing Kunal, maintained a professional, impassive facade, though her eyes narrowed slightly, a subtle indication of her client's simmering discontent.
Justice Dhiman continued, "Once the co-parenting arrangement is finalized, we will then address the accusations and proceed with the divorce proceedings. However, the next hearing will be specifically dedicated to finalizing custody arrangements based on the agreed co-parenting plan."

She then added to her order, "Furthermore, considering Aditya has not seen his mother for two months, I strongly suggest that Mr. Kunal allow Aditya to meet with Mrs. Esha at the earliest convenience of both parties. This should not wait until our next hearing. Mr. Gupta, please coordinate with Ms. Roy to arrange this visitation, keeping Aditya's well-being as the priority."

Kunal's expression was one of defeat; he avoided Esha's gaze, his posture slumping in surrender, though his clenched fists showed his internal struggle against this outcome.

Esha, sensing the victory but also the pain it brought, looked towards her lawyer. Mr. Gupta then addressed the Justice, "Your Honor, may we involve Ms. Priya in this next step to assist with mediation?"

Justice Dhiman considered this for a moment before nodding, "Permission granted. Ms. Priya's involvement might help in navigating the complexities of co-parenting. Let's ensure this is about Aditya's well-being."

The Justice concluded, "I expect both parties to act with Aditya's well-being at the forefront. We will reconvene in one month to review the proposed co-parenting plan. Court adjourned."

As the courtroom began to empty, the atmosphere was heavy with the weight of what was to come. Esha and Kunal, along with their lawyers, knew the path ahead would be fraught with challenges, requiring them to set aside personal grievances for their son's sake. Kunal's reluctance was clear, his defeat apparent, yet the necessity of cooperation loomed over him. Priya, watching from the sidelines, understood that her role as mediator would now be pivotal, her mind calculating how to turn this into an opportunity while ensuring some semblance of peace for Aditya.

After the adjournment, Kunal stormed towards Ms. Roy, his discontent radiating from him in waves. His body language was tense, his movements jerky and agitated, and his voice, when he spoke, was sharp with frustration, barely controlled anger simmering beneath the surface. "This isn't what I wanted!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing in the now almost empty courtroom. "How can they make a decision like this, how can they possibly rule against me, without considering all the facts? Without understanding the full extent of…" He trailed off, unable to articulate his rage and frustration, his sense of injustice.
Ms. Roy, sensing his escalating agitation, placed a calming hand on his arm, her touch firm yet gentle, her tone soothing and reassuring. "Kunal, please," she urged, her voice steady and calming, "take a moment to compose yourself. Let's think this through rationally, strategically. Emotional outbursts won't help us now. They won't change the outcome."
Once Kunal's breathing had steadied, his anger somewhat abated, his lawyer spoke, her words carefully measured, pragmatic, and realistic. "We need to seriously consider the very real possibility of a joint custody arrangement, Kunal," she advised, her voice serious. "Justice Dhiman is known for her impartiality and fairness. She's not easily swayed by emotional arguments or theatrics. While we have sufficient evidence to push for a divorce based on the accusations against Esha, and we will certainly do so, ensuring that she doesn't receive an unfair alimony settlement or attempt to cause further harassment is well within our control. However, obtaining sole custody of Aditya… that's going to be an extremely difficult challenge now, given the Justice's statements and Aditya's own testimony."
Kunal, his frustration morphing into a desperate, almost childlike plea, grasped at straws. "What if we appeal?" he suggested, his voice laced with desperation. "What if we escalate this, take it to the High Court? Surely… surely we can find better grounds there, a more favorable outcome, a Justice who will see things my way."
Ms. Roy shook her head slowly, her expression one of regretful honesty, her eyes filled with a professional empathy that tempered the harshness of her words. "Kunal," she explained patiently, her voice gentle yet firm, "the current trend in family court cases, unfortunately, leans heavily towards mothers, regardless of how strong a father's case might be. It's a bias, yes, but one that's difficult to overcome. I wouldn't want to give you false hope, to mislead you with unrealistic expectations. In this particular situation, and this is the most crucial factor, Aditya has clearly and unequivocally expressed his desire to maintain a strong, loving relationship with both parents. This… this significantly weakens our position for sole custody. It undermines our entire argument."
She paused, letting her words sink in, allowing Kunal time to process the harsh reality of their situation, the legal obstacles they now faced, before adding, "If Aditya had shown even the slightest discontent with Esha, if he had expressed any reluctance to be with her, any fear or discomfort, we might have gained some leverage. We could have used that to build a stronger case. But as it stands… our case for sole custody simply isn't as strong as we'd like it to be. And fighting it further might only cause more pain, more trauma, for Aditya."
Kunal was left reeling, his mind a maelstrom of confusion and despair. He had been so focused, so absolutely determined, to protect Aditya from what he perceived as Esha's harmful influence, from the consequences of her actions, from the negative impact of her choices. But now, he was brutally confronted with the harsh reality that the law, and perhaps even his own son, might not see things the same way he did. His unwavering resolve to fight for sole custody, to shield Aditya from his mother, seemed to waver, to crumble under the combined weight of legal pragmatism and his son's heartfelt, innocent wishes.
——————————————
Esha, her eyes shining with a mixture of relief and heartfelt gratitude, turned to Priya. "Thank you, Priya," she said, her voice filled with emotion. "Thank you for keeping your promise, for helping me see Aditya again."
Priya accepted the thanks with a graceful nod, her mind already shifting gears, her thoughts racing ahead. I'm glad I could rectify at least one of my mistakes, she mused silently, her voice sincere as she responded to Esha, yet with a subtle undercurrent of calculation, of strategizing. She knew this moment, this small victory, could serve as a crucial pivot point for future manipulations, for furthering her own agenda. A simple divorce, she thought, with a flicker of mischief in her eyes, wasn't nearly exciting enough. But this time, she resolved, she would need to improvise, to refine her manipulations, to ensure she wouldn't have to take a step back, to retreat as she had been forced to do before. She hadn't fully anticipated the consequences of her earlier schemes, hadn't realized that her actions would lead to such pain and suffering for both a child and his mother. But now, with the initial damage done, her primary objective of destroying Esha and Kunal's marriage achieved, she could focus on the next phase of her plan, on securing her own position, her own happiness.
She glanced over at Kunal, who was deep in conversation with Ms. Roy, his body language still radiating tension, his frustration and disappointment pronounced. Turning back to Esha, Priya offered a carefully considered suggestion. "Esha," she said, her voice gentle and concerned, "I think it's best if I talk to Kunal first. It wouldn't be wise for you to approach him directly right now, given his current state. He needs time to cool down, to process everything. Why don't you head back to Aniket's? Take some time for yourself, relax, and let me handle this."
Esha, understanding the delicate balance of emotions, the fragile nature of the situation, nodded in agreement. "Yes," she said, her voice filled with gratitude, "thank you, Priya. Please… do what you can."
Priya ensured Esha got safely into a cab, watching as it drove off and disappeared into the city traffic before she shifted her focus to the next phase of her plan. With a casual air, she positioned herself near the courthouse exit, where cars were parked in a haphazard, chaotic manner, patiently waiting for Kunal to emerge. Her mind was a whirlwind of plans, of potential scenarios and calculated maneuvers, but she knew that patience, as always, would be her greatest ally in this situation. She needed to present herself as a genuine mediator, a concerned friend solely interested in Aditya's welfare, not as the cunning puppeteer she truly was.
As she waited, her eyes subtly scanned the area, taking in the details, her thoughts strategizing her next move. She would have to tread carefully, she knew, to gain Kunal's trust, to subtly manipulate the situation to her advantage while always keeping her ultimate endgame in sight. But for now, she needed to be the calm, rational voice of reason, the supportive friend who could help Kunal navigate the turbulent waters of this legal and emotional storm, all while secretly plotting how this could ultimately lead to the acceptance and happiness she envisioned for herself.
Priya stood patiently amidst the chaotic array of parked cars outside the courthouse, her eyes scanning the faces in the crowd, searching for Kunal. The tension of the day, the emotional intensity of the courtroom proceedings, still clung to her like a second skin, but her mind was sharp, focused, already plotting her next move, anticipating Kunal's reaction, his vulnerability.
When Kunal finally emerged from the courthouse, his face was contorted with rage, his jaw clenched tightly, his steps heavy with frustration and disappointment. Spotting Priya standing near the exit, his expression darkened further, his eyes hardening. "What do you want now, Priya?" he demanded, his voice sharp with barely suppressed irritation and suspicion.
Priya raised her hands in a placating gesture, her tone light, almost teasing, a subtle attempt to defuse his anger. "Calm down, Kunal," she said, her voice laced with a playful admonishment. "I'm the court-appointed mediator, here to help work out a plan for Aditya's custody, remember? The judge specifically asked me to assist."
The mention of his son and the reminder of the legal obligation imposed by the court seemed to temper Kunal's fury slightly, though his skepticism, his deep-rooted distrust of Priya, remained evident in his narrowed eyes and tense jaw. "Then why are you talking to me?" he retorted, his voice still sharp with irritation. "Go speak to my advocate. She's the one handling the legal side of things."
Priya stepped closer, closing the distance between them, her voice soft yet firm, persuasive. "Kunal," she said, her tone laced with concern, "you're clearly in a highly emotional state right now. Your anger… it's understandable, but it's not productive. I'm here as a friend, as someone who cares about both you and Esha, about Aditya. I truly believe a direct, open conversation, where I can try to help both of you process your emotions, will be far more beneficial than a formal meeting in the presence of your advocates, who are, let's face it, primarily focused on winning their case, not on finding a solution that truly benefits everyone involved."
Kunal's eyes flashed with accusation, his voice rising in anger once more. "Enough of your manipulation, Priya!" he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "This whole mess… it's all because of you, because of that feminist nonsense you filled Esha's head with, all those ideas that made her stray, that made her…" He trailed off, unable to articulate his rage and pain.
Priya let out a mocking laugh, her voice sharp and dismissive. "Oh, please, Kunal," she scoffed. "As if Esha is a child, incapable of independent thought, easily swayed by the opinions of others. She's not some puppet, you know. She made her own choices, her own decisions, fully aware of the potential consequences. You can't blame me for her actions."
He shook his head vehemently, his voice rising with renewed anger. "You knew!" he accused, his finger jabbing towards her. "You knew all along that Esha and Aniket were… were on the wrong path. You knew what was happening. What kind of friend are you, Priya? A true friend would have intervened, would have tried to correct the mistakes, to guide them back, not… not encourage them, not facilitate their betrayal."
Sensing the conversation was teetering on the brink of a destructive spiral, Priya quickly interjected, her voice taking on a conciliatory tone. "Kunal," she suggested, "let's step away from this… charged atmosphere. Come, let's go to a restaurant nearby. We can talk there with more ease, with less… tension. Consider me a friend trying to help, not an adversary you need to fight."
Kunal paused, his anger momentarily forgotten as he weighed his options, torn between his deep-seated distrust of Priya and the potential for gaining valuable information, for understanding Esha's motivations, her justifications. His mind raced, considering the potential legal ramifications of ignoring a court-appointed mediator's attempts to facilitate a resolution. Priya, sensing his hesitation, his internal struggle, pressed her advantage, her voice soft and persuasive. "I'm here to listen, Kunal," she assured him, "not to lecture you or to judge you. I want to understand your perspective, your concerns."
The promise of being heard, of finding understanding rather than facing further confrontation, seemed to sway him. Realizing that he could potentially glean more information about the situation, about Esha's thoughts and intentions, and acknowledging that he was, in fact, legally obligated to engage with the court-appointed mediator, Kunal finally relented, his voice still laced with caution, but less combative, less aggressive. "Alright," he conceded, "let's talk. But know this, Priya, I'm not here for games. I'm not interested in your manipulations."
Priya smiled, a subtle hint of victory in her eyes, as she led the way to a nearby restaurant, her mind already calculating how she could best use this opportunity to further her own agenda, to subtly influence Kunal's perceptions, while maintaining the facade of a concerned friend, a neutral mediator seeking to mend fences.
In a quiet corner of the dimly lit restaurant, Priya leaned forward, her body language conveying empathy and concern, her voice gentle and understanding as she attempted to bridge the chasm of anger and resentment that separated them. "Kunal," she began, her eyes searching his, "are you still staying in Pune, at your parents' house?"
Kunal responded coldly, his gaze fixed on the swirling black depths of his coffee, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Yes," he said, his tone laced with bitterness, "where else would I go? My home… my life… it's been destroyed here, shattered by…" He trailed off, unable to articulate the source of his pain, the betrayal that haunted him.
Priya maintained her sympathetic expression, her words carefully measured, her tone gentle and understanding. "It must be incredibly difficult for you, Kunal," she commiserated, "having to commute back and forth to Mumbai for work, leaving Aditya with your parents, being away from…" She paused, her voice trailing off meaningfully.
Kunal scoffed, his voice heavy with resignation and a deep-seated weariness. "When life has already turned my world upside down, when everything I held dear has been ripped away," he retorted, his voice laced with bitterness, "what difference does a little inconvenience make?" After a brief pause, he added, "Besides, I'm working from home now. My company approved my transfer request. I only come to the office once a fortnight to report, to attend meetings. The rest of the time, I'm… I'm here, in Pune, with my parents, with Aditya."
Priya nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful, her tone earnest and sincere. "Kunal," she said gently, "it's still your house in Mumbai. Your home. You shouldn't… you shouldn't allow your emotions to dictate your actions, to cloud your judgment. It's still yours." She hesitated, then, as if sharing a difficult truth, she continued, "Esha… Esha has moved in with Aniket."
The news that Esha was now living with Aniket hit Kunal like a fresh wave of betrayal, a punch to the gut that sent a surge of anger and resentment coursing through him. He remembered the keys Esha had offered him in the courtroom, a symbolic gesture of surrender, of separation. "Yes," he spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "how… convenient. How perfectly logical for her to move in with her lover, to build a new life on the ruins of our marriage, our family."
Priya, her voice taking on a defensive edge, countered his bitterness. "What should Esha have done, Kunal?" she challenged, her tone sharp. "When you refused to listen to her, when you wouldn't even give her a chance to explain, to apologize, and you decided to move to Pune with Aditya, taking him away from her, what other choice did she have? What's a pregnant woman supposed to do when she has no one to take care of her, when her husband has abandoned her, when her so-called friend has betrayed her?"
Kunal responded coldly, his gaze fixed on the swirling black depths of his coffee, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Yes," he said, his tone laced with bitterness, "where else would I go? My home… my life… it's been destroyed here, shattered by…" He trailed off, unable to articulate the source of his pain, the betrayal that haunted him.
Priya maintained her sympathetic expression, her words carefully measured, her tone gentle and understanding. "It must be incredibly difficult for you, Kunal," she commiserated, "having to commute back and forth to Mumbai for work, leaving Aditya with your parents, being away from…" She paused, her voice trailing off meaningfully.
Kunal scoffed, his voice heavy with resignation and a deep-seated weariness. "When life has already turned my world upside down, when everything I held dear has been ripped away," he retorted, his voice laced with bitterness, "what difference does a little inconvenience make?" After a brief pause, he added, "Besides, I'm working from home now. My company approved my transfer request. I only come to the office once a fortnight to report, to attend meetings. The rest of the time, I'm… I'm here, in Pune, with my parents, with Aditya."
Priya nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful, her tone earnest and sincere. "Kunal," she said gently, "it's still your house in Mumbai. Your home. You shouldn't… you shouldn't allow your emotions to dictate your actions, to cloud your judgment. It's still yours." She hesitated, then, as if sharing a difficult truth, she continued, "Esha… Esha has moved in with Aniket."
The news that Esha was now living with Aniket hit Kunal like a fresh wave of betrayal, a punch to the gut that sent a surge of anger and resentment coursing through him. He remembered the keys Esha had offered him in the courtroom, a symbolic gesture of surrender, of separation. "Yes," he spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "how… convenient. How perfectly logical for her to move in with her lover, to build a new life on the ruins of our marriage, our family."
Priya, her voice taking on a defensive edge, countered his bitterness. "What should Esha have done, Kunal?" she challenged, her tone sharp. "When you refused to listen to her, when you wouldn't even give her a chance to explain, to apologize, and you decided to move to Pune with Aditya, taking him away from her, what other choice did she have? What's a pregnant woman supposed to do when she has no one to take care of her, when her husband has abandoned her.?”
The word "pregnancy" reignited Kunal's fury, his face flushing with anger, the veins in his neck throbbing. He leaned closer, his voice a harsh whisper, filled with scorn and barely suppressed rage. "Do you expect me," he hissed, his words laced with venom, "to stay in that house, to take care of the 'bit…'" He stopped himself abruptly, his jaw clenching, before uttering the word "bitch," but the unspoken insult hung heavy in the air, leaving a bitter taste. "To take care of the woman," he continued, his voice shaking with anger, "who got pregnant by her lover? While still married to me?"
Priya's expression remained impassive, her carefully constructed mask of neutrality firmly in place, but her voice took on a stricter, more admonishing edge. "Kunal," she said, her tone laced with disapproval, "aren't you ashamed of using such… crude language? Of resorting to vulgar insults to describe a woman? Especially your wife, the mother of your child?"
Kunal responded with a mocking laugh, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I see," he scoffed. "You intend for me to worship Esha, to praise her, as if she's done some great service to me and my family? As if she hasn't betrayed us all? I'll have you know, Priya, that I'm the first one in my entire extended family to go through a divorce. And not just any divorce, mind you. A divorce where my wife not only had an affair, but got bred by her lover before even bothering to file for separation."
Priya, her voice now firm and unwavering, countered his bitterness. "You're proving my point, Kunal," she stated, her tone laced with a hint of triumph. "You're proving everything I've ever said about men, about the patriarchal world we live in, where every man, deep down, is a male chauvinist, incapable of seeing women as anything other than… property, possessions to be controlled and punished. That's why you're on this… this relentless spree of abusing Esha, of blaming her, of refusing to acknowledge your own role in the breakdown of your marriage."
Kunal felt a flicker of embarrassment at her words, the heat of his outburst slowly giving way to a grudging self-awareness. "I… I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice subdued, his anger momentarily abated. But then, his defensiveness quickly reasserted itself. "But… but I'm astonished, Priya," he added, his voice rising again, "that you're still defending Esha, that you're still taking her side, even after what she did. Even after her… her outrageous behavior, her betrayal."
Priya continued, her voice a blend of frustration and sympathy, her tone carefully calibrated to appeal to both his reason and his emotions. "Kunal," she said, her voice softening, "you will never truly understand a woman's heart, a woman's perspective. There are so many facets, so many nuances, to consider, so many layers of emotions and experiences that shape our choices, our actions. Despite everything that happened, despite the hurt and the betrayal, Esha waited. She waited for over a month, hoping for some kind of communication from you, some sign that you still cared, that you were willing to fight for your marriage, for your family. And during that long, agonizing month, I was there for her, supporting her, picking up the pieces of her shattered heart. It was incredibly difficult for her, Kunal, to finally accept that you had truly gone, that you had walked away from her, from your life together, from your home, from Aditya. It was only then, when she finally understood that you weren't coming back, that she made the decision to move in with Aniket."
Kunal, his voice still sharp with anger, his pride wounded, retorted, "I gave her a choice, didn't I? She could have aborted the baby. She could have ended this… this… mess before it got this far. She could have chosen our family, our marriage, over…" He trailed off, unable to say Aniket's name, the betrayal still too raw.
Priya interjected firmly, her voice brooking no argument. "Kunal," she stated, her tone unwavering, "to give birth to a baby, to bring a life into this world, is a woman's choice, her decision, her right. It's her body, her future, her responsibility. You have no right to dictate what she should or should not do with her own body."
Kunal scoffed, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Oh, I see," he sneered. "So, by that logic, I also made a choice, didn't I? I left the house, I left her, and I gave Esha the option to move in with… with…" He stumbled over the words, unable to say Aniket's name without a surge of anger. "With… him. With whoever she chooses to call that man." His tone was dismissive, belittling, deliberately minimizing the significance of Esha's relationship with Aniket.
Priya glanced at her watch, noting the time, subtly signaling that their time was limited, that she had other matters to attend to. "Kunal," she said, her voice taking on a more business-like tone, "I'm not here to debate Esha's choices or to defend her actions. I'm here to focus on the task at hand, to see how we can best work together to create a co-parenting plan that benefits Aditya, that ensures his well-being. That's my priority, and it should be yours as well." She paused, then, with a carefully calculated air of casualness, she suggested, "Can we meet again, perhaps on the fifteenth day, when you come back to Mumbai for your office visit? We could discuss the details then, brainstorm some options, and hopefully, come to a mutually agreeable solution."
When Kunal remained silent, his expression unreadable, Priya pressed on, her voice taking on a firmer edge, reminding him of his obligations. "Kunal," she stated, "you don't really have a choice in this matter. It's a court order. The judge expects us to work together, to find a solution that prioritizes Aditya's needs." She then softened her tone, offering a gesture of hospitality, a subtle attempt to build rapport. "Tell you what," she suggested, "I'll host you for evening snacks at my house when you come to Mumbai next time. We can talk then, in a more relaxed setting, without the… distractions."
Kunal, caught between his lingering anger and resentment, and the undeniable pressure of his legal obligations, nodded reluctantly, his agreement grudging. Priya's approach was strategic, a carefully crafted blend of firmness and persuasion, offering him both a reminder of his legal duties and a semblance of friendly hospitality. Her aim was twofold: to keep the conversation focused on the practicalities of co-parenting, for Aditya's sake, and to subtly manipulate the situation, to nudge Kunal towards a more amenable mindset, paving the way for her own future plans, her own endgame.
————————————
(TBC...)

[clearlover]

Part T-2

With the court order for joint custody of Aditya now securely in hand, Esha felt a wave of relief wash over her, a sense of hope blossoming in her heart. She was eager to see her son again, to hold him close, her heart yearning for the long-awaited reunion. Yet, a lingering anxiety remained, a sense of anticipation and uncertainty as she waited for the outcome of Priya's negotiations with Kunal, for the finalization of the co-parenting plan.
A few days later, in the tranquility of the evening, the sun having already dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the city, Esha found herself seeking solace in the familiar ritual of cooking. She had decided to prepare Aniket's favorite dish, Biriyani, a fragrant and comforting meal. It was a small gesture, an attempt to create a sense of normalcy, of domesticity, in their new life together, though she wasn't yet ready to fully embrace it, to fully commit to this new path. The quiet symphony of the city at night, the distant sounds of traffic and the muffled murmur of voices, framed the warm, inviting scene in the kitchen.
Aniket entered the kitchen, his eyes drawn not to the enticing aroma of the Biriyani simmering on the stove, but to Esha herself. With her pregnancy advancing, she seemed to radiate a new, luminous beauty, a gentle glow that emanated from within. In her simple, comfortable salwar kameez, her curves were accentuated, her figure taking on a softer, more womanly shape, making her appear even more enchanting, more desirable. He approached her with a measured, almost hesitant pace, his eyes filled with admiration and a hint of something deeper, something more possessive. Under the pretense of assisting with the preparation of the rice, his hands found hers, their fingers intertwining as they carefully poured the grains into the steaming pot. He pressed his body close to hers, his warmth enveloping her from behind, his breath warm against her neck, his voice a seductive whisper in her ear. "Let me help you with this," he breathed, his words a mixture of tenderness and barely suppressed desire.
Esha, feeling the intimate pressure of his touch, the warmth of his body against hers, managed a faint, hesitant smile. "You seem… romantic today," she observed, her voice a blend of affection and the lingering shadows of her divided heart, the echoes of a love not yet relinquished, a past not yet forgotten.
Aniket gently brushed Esha's hair away from her shoulders, his fingers lingering on the nape of her neck, revealing the smooth, inviting expanse of skin beneath. His lips grazed her skin with a slow, deliberate touch, his teeth lightly grazing her shoulder, sending a shiver of awareness, a subtle current of desire, through her body. He then whispered in her ear, his voice a low, husky murmur, "It's been a while,"
Esha, feeling the warmth of his breath against her skin, the intimate pressure of his body against hers, turned her head slightly, her gaze locking with his, a playful challenge in her eyes. "I know," she replied softly, a knowing smile playing on her lips, acknowledging the unspoken desire that simmered between them. Then, with a hint of playful defiance, a subtle reminder of her lingering reservations, she added, her voice slightly louder, "But first… let me finish cooking this Biriyani. You know how much you love it."
Esha tried to shift her focus back to the task at hand, her hands deftly mixing the fragrant spices into the pot, her movements practiced and efficient. Yet, Aniket's lips found her shoulders again, his kisses tender yet persistent, a gentle insistence that drew her away from her culinary duties, that demanded her attention. His lips were a soft, insistent caress against her sensitive skin, igniting a cascade of delicious tremors that ran down her spine, leaving her breathless. She closed her eyes, momentarily lost in the intoxicating sensation, allowing herself a brief escape into the pure, unadulterated pleasure of his touch, a temporary reprieve from the turmoil that still plagued her heart.
"Please," she whispered, her voice a mix of undeniable desire and lingering caution, a reminder of the delicate balance they now navigated, "I'll be sixteen weeks along in a few days. After that… we can…" Her voice trailed off, the unspoken promise hanging heavy in the air.
"I know," Aniket murmured back, his voice husky with barely suppressed longing, his hands sliding down her arms to rest possessively on her waist, pulling her closer. "But I can't help myself. I'm… restless."
Esha, with a playful tilt of her head, a mischievous glint in her eyes, teased him gently. "Well, that's your fault, isn't it?" she said, her voice light and teasing. "For getting me pregnant in the first place. Fantasies are all fun and games, mister, but reality… reality comes with responsibilities." Her words were lighthearted, yet they carried the undeniable weight of her new reality, a reality where the lines between pleasure and duty, between desire and responsibility, had become blurred, intertwined.
Aniket chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He gently turned her around, his hands firm but gentle on her hips, guiding her to face him, to meet his gaze. Their eyes locked for a heartbeat, a silent exchange of longing and understanding, before their lips met in a passionate kiss. The kiss was deep, filled with a yearning that had been simmering beneath the surface, a silent conversation of desire and reassurance. Esha responded with an equal fervor, her lips parting to deepen the kiss, her body melting into his, her hands finding their way to his shoulders, her fingers tangling in his hair.
His hands then ventured upwards, his touch bolder, finding the gentle swell of her breasts, his fingers lightly tracing their curves, his touch feather-light yet electrifying, sending shivers of sensation through her. Esha arched her back instinctively, a soft giggle escaping her lips, the sensation heightened, intensified, by the changes in her body, by the increased sensitivity that accompanied her pregnancy.
"What's so special?" Aniket inquired, his voice a low, curious murmur, his breath warm against her skin, his lips tracing a path along her jawline.
"Pregnancy," Esha whispered back, her voice a sultry invitation, her eyes sparkling with a playful sensuality. She pulled him even closer, their bodies pressed together, leaving no space between them. "My breasts… they're incredibly sensitive now," she explained, her words laden with the new, heightened awareness of her body's transformations, the subtle shifts and changes that both fascinated and excited her.
She then leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his earlobe, her teeth gently grazing the soft skin, her whisper seductive, a playful promise. "They're getting ready for milk, you know," she murmured, her voice husky and low. "For the baby."
Aniket chuckled, the vibration of his laughter tickling her skin, sending another wave of shivers through her. "Good for me," he teased, his hands still exploring the new contours of her body, his touch lingering on the swell of her breasts, his fingers gently teasing her nipples.
Esha, with a playful lilt in her voice, a mischievous glint in her eyes, countered his playful suggestion. "Good for the baby," she corrected, her voice filled with a secret delight, a shared intimacy that transcended the physical, a bond that extended to the life growing within her.
Esha gave him a gentle nudge, her hands playfully pressing against his chest, pushing him back with a teasing resistance. "Aniket," she chided, her voice carrying a soft admonishment, though her smile betrayed her enjoyment of their flirtatious banter, "the food will get spoiled if we don't focus."
Aniket, with a roguish grin spreading across his face, kept his hands firmly planted on her waist, his thumbs drawing slow, tantalizing circles that sent shivers of awareness down her spine. "And what do I get in return for my… patience?" he teased, his tone playful yet filled with a palpable anticipation.
"Nothing, mister," Esha retorted playfully, her voice adopting a mock-sternness that belied the amusement dancing in her eyes.
Aniket's plea was soft, almost a whisper, his fingers now tracing the seductive curve of her hips, igniting a subtle fire beneath her skin. "Please, Esha," he murmured, his touch both a question and a promise, "give me something… something to look forward to, something to… rejoice in."
Esha's eyes sparkled with mischief, a silent acknowledgment of the delicious game they were playing, the push and pull of desire and restraint. "I'll think about it," she replied, her tone teasing, her gaze locked with his, a silent invitation to ponder the possibilities, to imagine what delights the night might hold.
He paused, his hand slowly ascending her back, the heat of his touch sending a shiver of anticipation through her. "What about… dessert after dinner?" he suggested, his voice low and husky, his eyes filled with a playful suggestion that there was far more than just sweet treats on the menu.
"What sort of dessert are we talking about?" Esha inquired, her curiosity piqued, her voice a playful blend of intrigue and challenge, her eyes sparkling as they searched his.
Aniket leaned closer, his lips brushing against her ear, his breath a warm whisper that sent shivers down her spine, his suggestion laced with a seductive promise. "A dessert," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "that will be worth the wait. A dessert that will leave you breathless." His hand, meanwhile, found the curve of her thigh, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path upwards, each touch a silent, tantalizing promise of the pleasures to come.
Esha's cheeks flushed with a delicate pink, her feigned irritation a thin veil over the anticipation building within her. "Oh, really?" she retorted, her voice a mixture of mock annoyance and undeniable desire. "And what might this… special dessert entail?"
"A blowjob,” Aniket whispered back, his voice dripping with allure, his hand now gently teasing the hem of her salwar, his touch sending waves of heat through her, "served under the stars. A night of pure indulgence, framed by the beauty of the night sky."
"Okay, baba," Esha conceded with a laugh, her voice light and teasing, as she gently pushed his hand away, a playful reminder of the boundaries she wasn't yet ready to cross. "Under the stars it is. But first," she added, turning back to her culinary task, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "let me make the most delicious Biriyani you've ever tasted. Then, and only then, can we indulge in… dessert." The promise of their intimate encounter hung heavy in the air, a sweet anticipation that mingled with the fragrant spices filling the kitchen.
After dinner, Aniket and Esha found themselves on the balcony, enveloped by the tranquility of the night. They were nestled together on a plush, luxurious chaise longue that seemed to embrace them both, its soft cushions inviting them to sink into its depths. The night was serenaded by soft music drifting from the open windows, a gentle melody that mingled with the quiet symphony of the darkness, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and romance. The balcony was adorned with a scattering of twinkling LED lights, their warm glow subtle yet inviting, casting a soft, ethereal light on the couple. Above them, the moon, a silver disc in the inky blackness, cast a gentle, romantic glow, while the stars, visible in their full, breathtaking glory through the clear night sky, offered a spectacular celestial show.
Esha rested her head on Aniket's chest, her body nestled against his, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath her ear, a comforting rhythm that calmed the lingering anxieties within her. Aniket, his voice a low murmur of contentment, his arm wrapped securely around her waist, complimented her culinary skills. "That was the best Biryani I've ever had, Esha," he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.
She laughed softly, the sound like a gentle melody carried on the night air. "I spent the whole day watching YouTube videos," she admitted, her voice laced with a hint of pride, "strategizing, experimenting, trying to find a new way to make it, a way to… to make it even more delicious. I'm so glad you liked it."
"Is this your way of winning my heart?" Aniket teased gently, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. "Through my stomach?"
Esha responded with a shy, knowing laugh, her hand gently playing with the buttons of his shirt, a playful exploration that mirrored his touch. "I'm learning," she murmured, her voice suggestive, filled with both a playful flirtation and a hint of seriousness, "learning how to impress my man, the man who might one day be my… life partner."
Aniket's hand paused momentarily, his touch lingering on the curve of her hip, before resuming its tender exploration. "Esha," he asked, his voice soft yet earnest, hopeful yet laced with an underlying patience, "are you… are you ready to marry me? To truly be together, to build a life together, a family?"
Esha, feeling the warmth of his touch, the comforting safety of his embrace, the undeniable strength of his love, hesitated. Her heart was still a battlefield, torn between the past and the future, between the life she had lost and the one she was tentatively trying to build. "Aniket," she replied, her voice a mere whisper, her words laced with uncertainty, "I… I need more time. I'll think about it." Her answer was not a rejection, but a promise of careful consideration, a recognition of the complexities of their situation, a proof of the emotional baggage she still carried.
As they lay there, enveloped by the tranquility of the night, their conversation gradually waned, fading into a comfortable silence. Yet, the bond between them, the unspoken connection that pulsed beneath the surface, spoke volumes. Aniket's hand continued its gentle caress, his fingers tracing patterns on her arm, each movement a silent declaration of his affection, his desire to comfort and protect. Esha's body, in turn, responded with small, involuntary shivers of pleasure, her skin tingling beneath his touch. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions, of anxieties and hopes, of past regrets and future possibilities, while her heart, still bruised and battered, was slowly learning to navigate the treacherous path between the lingering remnants of her past love and the new, tentatively blossoming love she was beginning to embrace.
Aniket, his senses heightened, his awareness attuned to the subtle changes in Esha's body, the gentle swell of her belly, the fuller curves of her breasts, whispered with a playful hunger, "I can feel… more of you, my love. More flesh, more curves… and it's making my mouth water."
Esha, with a knowing smile curving her lips, responded, her voice laced with a playful sensuality, "It's just a matter of time, Aniket. Just a matter of time before I have a big, round, protruding belly."
His voice softened, the playful teasing replaced by a genuine affection, as he pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was slow, deep, and tender. "I love you, Esha," he murmured against her lips, his words heartfelt and sincere. "I love you in all your forms, in every way. And I always will."
He paused, his hand gently stroking her hair, his voice thick with gratitude and a hint of wonder. "Thank you, Esha," he continued, his words heartfelt, "thank you for giving me this… this incredible joy, this gift of life, in the form of our baby. I… I never thought I'd have this chance, this opportunity to be a father."
Esha's eyes glistened with unshed tears, her heart touched by his words, by the depth of his love and gratitude. "I… I felt your love for the baby, Aniket," she confessed, her voice a mere whisper, her words laden with emotion. "I felt it the moment you found out. And that's why… that's why I decided to keep it, to have this baby."
Sensing the moment turning too serious, too heavy with emotion, Esha deftly lightened the mood with a playful touch. Her hand ventured beneath his shirt, her fingers tracing the outline of his chest, then teasingly over his boxer shorts, finding his hardness with a gentle, playful squeeze. Her fingers traced the length of him, her touch sending shivers of anticipation through his body, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Do you want your dessert now, Aniket?" she purred, her voice laced with a playful challenge. "For you to feel, for me to… enjoy, in reality?"
Esha shifted, moving to position herself above Aniket, her body hovering over his, her breath warm against his ear as she playfully licked the sensitive skin, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Aniket sighed, his voice husky with desire, "That's… incredible."
With a deliberate, almost torturous slowness, Esha began her journey down Aniket's body, her lips leaving a trail of warm, teasing kisses that made his skin tingle with anticipation, his muscles clenching in response. Her hands moved with practiced purpose, deftly unbuttoning his shirt, each button undone a silent promise of the exploration to come. Once the shirt was fully unfastened, she cast it aside with a casual flick of her wrist, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest to the cool night air and her eager lips.
Her tongue danced across his skin, tracing the contours of his chest, each touch sending waves of pleasure through him, his breath catching in his throat. She paused at his nipples, her breath a warm whisper against them, before her tongue flicked out, teasing first one, then the other, drawing soft moans from his lips. Then, with a gentle pressure, she bit down, just enough to blur the line between pleasure and pain, causing Aniket to arch his back involuntarily, his body a symphony of ecstasy in response to her touch. His responses were visceral, raw, each movement a silent plea for more, the intoxicating mix of sensations driving him to a heightened state of arousal.
"You're an expert," Aniket managed to jest, his voice a mixture of amusement and arousal.

Esha smiled against his skin. "You've made me an expert. Thanks to you," she murmured, her voice tinged with play. "This is what I can offer right now, for the physical love I've had to deny these past months."

Esha's hands moved with a deliberate grace, her fingers hooking into the waistband of Aniket's boxers. She tugged gently, sliding them down with a slow, teasing motion, her eyes locked on his as she revealed him fully to the night air. Once his boxers were discarded, she looked up at him, her voice a soft command, "Undress me."

Aniket responded with eager hands, his touch both reverent and urgent. He started with her salwar, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric, peeling it down her legs, his palms caressing her skin as he went. The fabric whispered against her skin, pooling at her feet. Next, he reached for her kurta, lifting it over her head, his movements careful yet filled with desire. The cool air brushed against her skin, but his hands were there, warming her, as he unhooked her bra with practiced ease.

Throughout this, Esha didn't pause her kisses. Her lips wandered over his chest, up to his neck, each kiss a blend of love and longing, her mouth occasionally finding his in a series of soft, lingering kisses. Her kisses were a narrative of their tie, each one a silent whisper of desire and affection, as Aniket continued to undress her, both of them enveloped in a dance of mutual unveiling under the watchful gaze of the stars.

Esha shifted her body, positioning herself above Aniket where he lay back, his head comfortably cradled by the recliner. With a silent, seductive invitation, she offered her breasts to him, her eyes locked with his, conveying desires unspoken yet profoundly felt. Aniket, reading the language of her body, leaned forward, his lips grazing her skin first in a teasing caress before fully committing to the act.

He began to suckle her breast with a gentle, savoring touch, his lips and tongue exploring with a reverence that mirrored the moment's closeness. The taste of her skin, warm and slightly salty, blended with the sweet, intoxicating scent of her perfume, filling his senses and accentuating her allure. Each breath he took was laden with her fragrance, pulling him deeper into the experience, enhancing the bond between them.

As Aniket enveloped her nipple with his mouth, drawing it in with a tender, relentless pull, a long, drawn-out sound escaped Esha's lips, “sheee…”.

Her voice, now thick and heavy with arousal, whispered in a husky, intimate tone, "You suckle like an eager baby."

The act filled her with a profound sense of nurturing, as if she were giving life itself through this intimate embrace. She urged him on, saying, “keep going, baby."

Her fingers weaved through his hair, guiding him closer, deepening their rapport with each gentle tug, each shared breath, in this moment of profound closeness.

Aniket was completely lost in a world of ecstasy, his hands kneading the soft, naked curves of Esha's hips, his nails occasionally tracing along her spine, eliciting shivers from her. Esha leaned close to his ear, her voice a low, seductive whisper, "Your penis requires attention now."

With a slow, deliberate movement, she descended, her eyes fixed on his now throbbing erection, barely contained by his underwear. She gently tugged down the elastic, releasing his arousal, and inhaled deeply, savoring the musky scent that was uniquely his. Her gaze lingered on his erection, a prelude to what was to come.

She then extended her tongue, just barely touching him in a tease, drawing back to build anticipation, making Aniket shiver with each playful touch. This dance of anticipation repeated two, then three times, each moment stretching out the thrill.

Aniket's voice was strained with desire, "I can't wait now."

Esha, with a mischievous glint in her eye, replied, "Not so soon."

She then brought her hand into play, her fingertip gently exploring the tip of his erection, circling the sensitive opening with delicate precision. Her touch then traveled down, her finger and palm caressing the entire length of him, not forgetting the tender sacs below, each stroke drawing out a series of groans from Aniket, the sounds echoing in the still night:

"Mmm..."

"Ahh..."

"Uhhh..."

His voice was playful yet strained as he teased, "The more you tease me, the more I'll fill your mouth and make you drink."

Esha, catching the meaning in his words, responded with a smile, "Challenge accepted."

In that moment, Esha was completely detached from the complexities of her life, fully immersed in the sensual play, swimming in a sea of erotica where every touch and sound was a note in their intimate symphony.

Esha's breathing became deliberate, her inhales and exhales quickening, sending warm, moist air cascading over Aniket's penis. Each breath was an intimate tease, heightening his anticipation, wrapping him in a cocoon of warmth that promised more. As the teasing stretched on, the tension in Aniket became palpable, his body responding to the subtle dance of her breath.

Unable to bear the exquisite torture any longer, Aniket's hand reached out, his fingers gently entwining in her hair. The action was tender, yet possessive, causing Esha to break into a giggle, her laughter light and teasing, floating in the air like a soft melody. But as quickly as her laughter came, it faded, her face shifting to one of concentration. Her eyes focused, her expression turning serious as she contemplated her next move, her mind racing with the possibilities of giving him the pleasure she knew he craved.

Her mouth then descended upon him with the grace of a lover versed in the art of pleasure, taking his penis into her mouth with a gradual, teasing descent. The warmth of her breath, the wet embrace of her lips, enveloped him, starting with slow, deliberate movements that were a study in seduction. Each motion was measured, allowing him to feel the full extent of her warmth, the slickness of her saliva coating him, providing a soothing comfort that quickly turned into arousal.

As she gained speed, her actions became more fervent, her mouth moving with an urgency that matched the growing desire between them. Occasionally, she would pull back, her tongue darting out to trace the length of his shaft, exploring every ridge and vein with a precision that spoke of her intent. It would then glide over to the sensitive skin of his sac, each lick a promise of the ecstasy yet to unfold, her warm, wet tongue teasing, tasting, and tantalizing.

Her saliva glistened on his skin, not just a lubricant but a mark of their shared intimacy, coating every inch with a warmth that seemed to seep into his very being. Her mouth was not just a vessel but an instrument of pleasure, each movement, each pause, each return sending waves of sensation through Aniket, his body responding with an intensity that resonated through every fiber of his existence.

Aniket's voice was thick with desire as he commanded, "Don't use your hands," his tone a blend of authority and anticipation. He shifted into a sitting position, his movements deliberate. Taking both of Esha's hands, he encased them in his grip, not tightly but with enough firmness to ensure she could only use her mouth, heightening the intimacy of the act. His touch was careful, his eyes checking her posture, making sure she was positioned in such a way that there was no pressure on her belly, safeguarding their unborn child. With her hands held, the act of the blowjob continued, her mouth now the sole instrument of pleasure, her lips and tongue working with newfound focus and intensity.

Feeling the surge of anticipation as his arousal neared its peak, Aniket's breath hitched, his voice a husky whisper, "Give me a break." They leaned into each other, their lips meeting in a kiss that was slow and deep, a pause in their passion where their connection was palpable. The kiss was a dance of tongues and breaths, a moment of intimacy that contrasted with the urgency of their desire. After a while, with gentle guidance, he positioned her head against the headrest, his voice softening, filled with care, "Are you comfortable with deep throat?"

Esha's response was a silent nod, her eyes meeting his, conveying her assurance and comfort, a silent promise of her willingness to continue this intimate act.

Esha, with a keen sense of what was to come, softly requested, "Bring me some juice, please," her voice laced with both anticipation and practicality. Aniket, understanding the dual purpose of hydration and comfort, swiftly moved to the kitchen, returning with a chilled glass of orange juice, its scent mingling with the night air.

Back on the recliner, he positioned himself with care, his body hovering above hers, his eyes locked with hers in silent communication. He began the intimate act with deliberate slowness, his penis gliding into her mouth with a gentleness that spoke of his respect for her comfort. Each inch was given time, allowing her to adjust to the sensation, ensuring her gag reflex was kept at bay. Her hands found his hips, gripping them, a sign of her control over the depth and pace, a silent agreement to proceed.

With each deep thrust, Aniket would withdraw, giving Esha a moment to breathe before re-entering. After each particularly deep penetration, he paused, lifting the glass of juice to her lips, offering her a sip. The cool liquid soothed her throat, changing the taste from the intimacy of the act to the fresh tang of orange, providing both comfort and a moment of relief.

This careful rhythm of passion and care not only maintained her comfort but also deepened their connection, each shared breath, each touch, and each sip of juice weaving their intimacy into a tapestry of mutual respect and desire.

After the intense play of deep throat, Aniket's voice was a mix of urgency and pleasure as he announced, "I want to cum.” Esha, taking a moment to catch her breath, gave him a nod, her voice soft, "Go ahead."

Aniket let out a deep groan, his body tensing as he began to release. Esha, ever the sport, gently squeezed his balls, encouraging him to let go completely. The long period of celibacy had built up within him, and he inundated her mouth with his release, so much so that some of it spilled from her lips. Her eyes watered slightly from the deep throat, the tears a display of the intensity of the act.

As Aniket slowly withdrew, the air between them charged with the remnants of their shared ecstasy, Esha playfully opened her mouth, revealing the cum still on her tongue. Her smile was a mix of mischief and profound satisfaction, a silent celebration of their intimate connection. With a theatrical flair, she swallowed, her eyes twinkling with a shared secret, her gaze never leaving his, a silent acknowledgment of the pleasure they had both experienced.

Aniket, his breath still ragged from the intensity of his release, lay down beside her, his arms finding her in the semi-darkness, pulling her close until her head rested against his chest. The rhythm of his heart was a comforting beat under her ear. His voice, when it came, was warm, almost a caress, filled with genuine praise, "You gave me immense pleasure, Esha. Are you comfortable?" His words were not just a statement but a question posed with real concern for her well-being.

Esha chose silence first, basking in the closeness, her body snuggled against his, finding comfort in the quiet aftermath of their passion. After several minutes, she finally broke the silence, her voice a soft whisper, imbued with contentment, "I feel so satisfied when I see you happy. Hope you liked it?" Her words were a gentle confession of her happiness in his joy, a query wrapped in the hope of mutual satisfaction.

Aniket, touched by her sincerity and the depth of their connection, leaned down to place a tender kiss on her forehead. His response was filled with deep admiration, "You're the perfect woman anyone could ever hope for." His words were not just praise but a declaration, a recognition of her essence, her role in his life, and the completeness she brought to him.
————————————
The doorbell of Priya's apartment chimed, a melodious sound that echoed through her tastefully decorated living space. Priya, with an anticipation that quickened her steps and brought a subtle smile to her lips, hurried to the door, her mind already certain of the visitor's identity. She swung the door open with a flourish, revealing Kunal standing on the threshold, his expression a mixture of unease and reluctant determination.
"Welcome, Kunal," Priya greeted warmly, her smile widening, her voice smooth and inviting, radiating a sense of hospitality. "Come in, come in. I hope you didn't have any trouble finding the place? It's a bit tucked away, I'm afraid."
Kunal gave a slight, non-committal nod, his eyes quickly scanning the unfamiliar surroundings, taking in the details of Priya's apartment. "No, I managed," he replied, his voice betraying none of the turmoil he carried within, his tone carefully neutral, polite.
"Please, make yourself comfortable," Priya gestured towards the plush sofa in her inviting living room, her movements graceful and welcoming as she ushered him inside. "Feel at home, Kunal.”
Kunal settled onto the sofa, his posture still somewhat rigid, his eyes taking in the décor of Priya's apartment for the first time. The space was a reflection of her personality – meticulously organized, with subtle hints of her feminist activism woven into the décor, through various books, art pieces, and strategically placed magazines scattered around. His mind, however, was preoccupied, heavy with the weight of the upcoming discussion, the looming negotiation for Aditya's co-parenting plan, a path that stretched before him, uncertain and daunting.
"Relax, Kunal," Priya said, her perceptive eyes noticing his tension, her voice soothing. "I'll get you some water." She disappeared into the kitchen, her steps light and confident, the picture of a gracious hostess. Moments later, she returned with a chilled glass of water, which she placed on the coffee table before him. "And I'll make us some coffee and a plate of samosas," she added, her voice warm and inviting. "It'll be ready in a bit. Just give me a few minutes."
Kunal nodded curtly, his thanks terse, his thoughts preoccupied with how this meeting would unfold, with the potential minefield of emotions that lay ahead. He was here under duress, compelled by the court's mandate, pushed into this uncomfortable territory fraught with personal history, unresolved conflicts, and lingering resentments. As Priya busied herself in the kitchen, the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee began to mingle with the air, a subtle scent that offered a semblance of normalcy, a momentary distraction from the charged atmosphere that crackled between them.
After easing into the conversation with some casual talk about the weather, about work, about the mundane details of everyday life, Priya leaned forward, her demeanor shifting, her tone becoming more focused, more business-like. "So, Kunal," she began, her voice gentle yet direct, "what have you decided regarding Aditya's co-parenting plan? Have you given any thought to how you envision it working?"
Kunal's face hardened, his jaw clenching, his eyes flickering with a mix of stubborn resolve and lingering resentment. "I have conditions," he stated, his voice low but firm, brooking no argument. "Esha… she won't be taking Aditya anywhere near her… lover." He spat the word out like a curse, his disgust evident.
Priya, unfazed by his hostility, countered calmly, "I understand your concerns, Kunal. But Aditya needs to see his mother. So, I'm just trying to understand the options. If Esha can't take Aditya to her home, would you be open to her coming to your house to see him? Perhaps on weekends, or…"
Kunal's response was immediate, a sharp, definitive "No." His expression hardened further, his voice laced with bitterness. "Absolutely not. I don't want… I don't want the pain of seeing Esha's face in my home, in the place where we built our lives together, where…" He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. "If Esha wants to see Aditya, she can bring him here, to your place, or to some other neutral venue, a park, a restaurant, whatever. But," he paused, his voice taking on a sharper edge, "I will not accompany Esha to any of Aditya's special events. If there are college functions, birthday parties, anything where parents are typically required to attend together, only one of us will go. We can alternate, we can decide who goes to which event, through you, but we will not, under any circumstances, attend together."
He leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on Priya's, as if trying to gauge her reaction, to assess her approval. "I'm not happy with this arrangement, Priya," he stated, his voice heavy with reluctance. "Not in the slightest. But I'm doing this… I'm agreeing to this… for Aditya's well-being. And because… because it's what the court has ordered." His words were a grudging concession, a clear indication of the ongoing battle raging within him between his personal feelings, his wounded pride and anger, and the legal obligations he was now bound to follow.
Priya listened intently to Kunal's conditions, her expression one of careful neutrality, her mind absorbing every detail, every nuance of his words.
"I understand," she said, her tone even and measured, betraying no hint of judgment or surprise. "I'll convey this to Esha, and we'll work out the logistics of the visits, ensuring it is comfortable for everyone involved, especially for Aditya."
She paused, her gaze shifting slightly, as if considering her next question. "So," she inquired, her voice casual, "when are you planning to move back to Mumbai? To your own home?"
Kunal's gaze drifted towards the window, his expression distant, his voice resigned. "Next week," he replied, his tone flat, devoid of emotion. "I'll return to my… apartment. It's not really a home anymore, is it?"
He added, after a brief silence, "Esha can meet Aditya the day before the next hearing, which, as you know, is on a Sunday.”
Priya nodded, a subtle hint of approval in her eyes. "It's good that you've decided to come back to Mumbai, Kunal," she said, her voice sincere. "It's important for Aditya to have both his parents in his life, in his city, in his… world."
"As if I have a choice," Kunal retorted, his bitterness palpable, his voice laced with resentment. "I'm doing this… so that Esha doesn't come to Pune and… and inflict her presence, her pain, on my parents as well. They've suffered enough."
"Kunal," Priya asked gently, her voice softening, her tone laced with concern, "why… why are you still so bitter towards Esha? Why can't you… let go of the anger, the hurt? It's… it's just a divorce. Why not try to maintain a… a normal, amicable relationship with her, as… as an ex-wife, as Aditya's mother?"
She paused, her eyes searching his, her voice taking on a persuasive tone. "Don't you think that would be better for Aditya? To see his parents… interacting civilly, respectfully? To know that even though you're not together anymore, you can still… co-exist, co-parent, without this… this constant tension, this animosity?"
Kunal's agitation was immediate, his body visibly tensing, his voice sharp with barely contained emotion. "I'm not some… some messiah," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness, "who can just… just passively accept this situation, who can play second fiddle to my ex-wife's new life, her new… family."
"Don't expect me to be okay with this, Priya," he added, his words biting, his eyes flashing with anger. "Don't expect me to just… smile and pretend that everything is fine, that I'm not hurt, that I'm not…" He trailed off, unable to articulate the depth of his pain and betrayal.
Priya, maintaining her calm demeanor, her voice steady and reasonable, countered his emotional outburst. "Kunal," she said, her tone gentle yet firm, "it's our culture, our societal conditioning, that makes us take divorce so personally, that views marriage as something sacred, inviolable. We're taught to see it as a failure, a personal failing, a source of shame."
"But in reality," she continued, her voice taking on a more pragmatic tone, "marriage is just a contract, a legal agreement between two people. And like any contract, it can be… dissolved, broken, if the terms are no longer being met, if the parties involved are no longer… compatible."
"Once a marriage ends, Kunal," she explained patiently, "it's absolutely normal, healthy even, to maintain a cordial, respectful relationship with your ex-partner. Especially when children are involved. It's about maturity, about putting aside your personal feelings for the sake of your child's well-being."
"This way," she argued, her voice gaining strength, "the children don't have to become part of the… compromise, the collateral damage. They don't have to be forced to choose sides, to feel the tension, the animosity. If you're willing, Kunal, you can still have a normal, healthy interaction with Esha. You can co-parent, you can be civil, you can…"
"She's chosen a different life, Kunal," she concluded, her voice softening. "She's made her decision. It's… it's better to let her go with grace, with dignity. Holding onto anger, to resentment… it will only hurt you, poison you, in the end. It won't change anything."
Kunal's agitation flared again, his words sharp, cutting through the air like shards of glass. "I cannot… I will not… forget this betrayal, Priya," he declared, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. "I will not forgive her. Not now, not ever."
"In my world, Esha is a symbol of sin," he declared, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes burning with a righteous anger.
His gaze bored into Priya's, a warning evident in his tone. "And you, Priya," he said, his voice low and menacing, "stay out of my relationship with Esha. Stay out of our lives."
"Don't try to manipulate me," he cautioned, his gaze unwavering, his jaw clenched tightly. "I won't tolerate it."
Priya realized she had pushed him far enough for now. She would need to find a way to calm him down, to de-escalate the situation, before she could continue with her subtle manipulations. She knew she would require more interaction, more opportunities to subtly influence him, to play her game, but for now, she needed to ease up, to give him space to process his emotions.
"Okay, okay, Kunal," she said soothingly, raising her hands in a placating gesture. "Chill. I understand. I'm just trying to help, to find a solution that works for everyone."
She was about to offer him more coffee, to ask "Do you want another cup?" when suddenly, her intercom buzzed, interrupting their conversation.
She quickly picked up the receiver, her voice smooth and professional as she spoke to the apartment security guard. "Yes?" she said. "Ah, yes, I'm expecting someone. Please have them wait in the reception area. I'll be down shortly."
Turning back to Kunal, she explained, "I'm so sorry, Kunal, but a client has just arrived to meet with me. I need to go down to the reception area for a bit. I shouldn't be too long, perhaps half an hour or so."
She gestured towards the kitchen. "Please, feel free to help yourself to anything you need while I'm gone. There's more coffee, some soft drinks, juices… whatever you'd like."
Priya then switched on the TV, handing Kunal the remote with a polite smile. "Feel free to watch something if you'd like," she offered. "There's a cricket match on, I believe. Or perhaps a movie? Whatever you prefer. Just make yourself comfortable." With that, she excused herself and headed out to meet her client, leaving Kunal alone with his thoughts, with the simmering resentment and the unwelcome reality of his situation.
Kunal mindlessly flipped through the television channels, the vibrant colors and jarring sounds barely registering in his consciousness. His mind was still preoccupied, still heavy with the weight of his conversation with Priya, with the unwelcome reality of his situation, the bitter taste of betrayal lingering in his mouth. Seeking a moment of calm, a temporary escape from the turmoil within him, he decided to make himself another cup of coffee. He walked over to the kitchen, drawn by the familiar, comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee, a small solace amidst the emotional storm raging within him.
He carefully poured the steaming coffee from the kettle into a mug, but his hand, still trembling slightly from the lingering stress and anger, caused the kettle's lid to slip from his grasp. It fell with a clatter, the metallic sound echoing in the quiet apartment, before sliding beneath the refrigerator, disappearing into the darkness. Sighing in frustration, Kunal knelt down, peering into the dark, narrow space beneath the appliance. He stretched out his hand, his fingers probing around blindly, feeling for the lost lid. Suddenly, his fingers brushed against something unexpected, something soft and yielding—a piece of paper.
Thinking it might be stuck to the underside of the kettle lid, Kunal tugged at it gently. To his surprise, both the paper and the lid came free, sliding out from beneath the refrigerator. As he rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his hands, his eyes fell upon the contents of the paper he held. It was an old, dusty photograph, the edges slightly crinkled, perhaps from age, perhaps from being carelessly tucked away, hidden from sight.
In the photo, he immediately recognized himself and Esha, standing not in the joyous embrace he remembered from their wedding day, but awkwardly apart, a noticeable distance between them. Even more unsettling, the background was conspicuously absent, as if it had been surgically removed from the image, leaving them stranded in a white void. His heart skipped a beat, a jolt of confusion and unease coursing through him.
"Why… why would Priya have this?" he muttered to himself, his mind reeling with questions. The photo was clearly from his wedding day, a day filled with love, laughter, and promises of a lifetime together, now eerily altered, a piece of his happy memories defaced, manipulated. His thoughts raced, piecing together the oddities, the inconsistencies in Priya's behavior. He remembered vividly the scene at the hospital, where he had seen Priya with an elderly woman, whom she had addressed affectionately as "Ma." Yet, Priya had explicitly told Esha that her mother was dead.
Kunal felt a surge of suspicion, his instincts screaming at him that something was amiss, that there were deeper deceptions at play, secrets lurking beneath the surface. He took a deep, steadying breath, his hand still shaking slightly as he brought the coffee cup to his lips, trying to calm the storm brewing within him. Could there be more to this situation than he was aware of? Had Esha and Priya been playing some kind of elaborate game with him all along, manipulating him for their own purposes?
With a newfound resolve hardening within him, a determination to uncover the truth, Kunal decided to keep this discovery to himself, to conceal his suspicions. He carefully rolled the photograph and slipped it into his pocket, his mind already strategizing, planning how he could investigate further, how he could gather more information, without alerting Priya, without revealing his hand. The unexpected encounter with the photograph had left him with more questions than answers, with a growing sense of unease and distrust. For now, he needed to play his cards close to his chest, to observe, to gather evidence, to bide his time. He sipped his coffee slowly, deliberately, each gulp a small step towards regaining control, towards calming his turbulent emotions. His gaze occasionally darted towards the door, his ears attuned to the slightest sound, as he waited for Priya's return, his mind now a whirlpool of intrigue, suspicion, and doubt.

[Anju angel]

Very very interesting

[Speedy21]

Marriage is contract between the two ppl wht the fuck those bitch priya justify marriage is bigger maarige is hope n love n commitment n familys n lot more .. if in reality if I c. This kinda slut that could be fun...

[Rockket Raja]

Very nice update. Did not like the aniket blow job episode. The complete damage is already done. What kunal is going to gain doing the CBI job?

[Harry Jordan]

I actually thought chapter T was done and we will be getting U but I am glad it continued. And I stay my stance , chapter T is hands down my faovrite chapter in this entire story simply because I applaud the incredible character development you have provided to Kunal. He is slowly becoming a breath of fresh air from the usual "loser husband" characters that stories like this often portrays. I only have one request to Author. Please don't reduce Kunal to a cliche , let this separation and this drama bring out a change of focus for him. Apart from finding the real truth regarding Priya , let this separation bring the eventual change in Kunal.

If Esha can easily move away from Kunal without much thought , then I believe Kunal deserves the change too. Let him return to Mumbai and start to focus on himself and become a better parent for Aditya. Have him work on his physical appearance and bring a drive for improvement in his physicality and let him change eventually. Let Aditya seek solace in others and make him have a bond with another woman. Let Esha witness this and bring out the hypocritical part of hers out where she would feel jealous that the man who she believed loved her unconditionally is now giving attention to another woman with no care for her. Let that experience bring the hypocritical Esha out and let Kunal call out her BULLSHIT.

Let Kunal be the hero of this story and expose Priya for what she is. A lying manipulative BITCH!

And once Priya's role is done , have Kunal ignore Esha  , and make Esha fight to earn back Kunal's love and trust again. I am sick and tired of looser husbands , let the wife fight this time.

One thing is for sure , at this point. Esha doesn't deserve a happy ending. But a part of me want her to see that Kunal was always the perfect man for her and she must realize her mistake. Esha should face the consequences and at the same time eventually after all the suffering she should return to Kunal in my opinion. But honestly I know it won't happen because Aniket is portrayed as the PERFECT MAN.


"A Woman's Heart Is An Ocean" MY ASS! 

[aravindkkumar08]

I am agree with jordan. It's clear that eshas love with Kunal is died. She wants Aditya only. Even aniket is not loving esha. He only loves her body. He always looking for sex only. Even he told he loves Aditya in future he wont love both esha or Aditya. Kunal should be bold enough to leave Esha and take Aditya away from her It's good for his future and his sons also

[aravindkkumar08]

Who is the real facilitator in Kunal life - Esha Priya or Aniket or All The Three

[Harry Jordan]

Who is the real facilitator in Kunal life - Esha Priya or Aniket or All The Three

In all sense and purpose , it is Priya. Even the courts have given her the role of the Facilitator in their life. But Kunal is no longer willing to be the puppet. He is becoming the Trump card and the player that is willing to fight. Priya is loosing control over Kunal since Kunal is aware of the truth and thus he is going to play the "King" that leads his army to victory. Kunal is basically becoming the "Director" of himself. He will no longer be part of Priya's mind games and foul play anymore. Right now there is only one thing in his mind , to find and expose the truth of Priya to Esha and then possibly leave Esha for good.


But as a fan of him , I would love if this separation pushes for a motivation of change in Kunal and he becomes the better version of himself. One thing I have noticed with stories in this sight is that men love to stay their "Loser" self in the end. Change is important  to each character and I believe Kunal deserves that change.

[Saradagaa]

Who is the real facilitator in Kunal life - Esha Priya or Aniket or All The Three

In my view, eventually, Adiya will emerge as ultimate facilitator to unknoat the intricate personal webs

[Harry Jordan]

In my view, eventually, Adiya will emerge as ultimate facilitator to unknoat the intricate personal webs

That is pretty obvious , if there is indeed a future where Esha and Kunal would eventually return to each other then Aditya will be the focal point of their reunion because he is the symbol of their love. In a way I want Kunal and Esha to unite because Esha is kind of a victim in this situation , she believes her feelings for Aniket is genuine not realizing their entire relationship was built on lies. Maybe when Esha sees the real truth she will understand how much better of a husband and partner Kunal was in her life as he was always been her ultimate support beam. Life is not all about sex , when all that eroticism and kinks die out , a bulk load of life will still remain. Esha needs to understand that Kunal will forever be the best life partner for her. Aniket on the other hand only prefers his kinks rather than his feelings. There is a good chance he will seek another woman when Esha could no longer perform. He is just a wolf wearing sheep's clothing.

[3sivaram]

I want to watch How Esha react when Aditya explains "How his new mom is so good, which the one who is going to marry Kunal"

[Harry Jordan]

I want to watch How Esha react when Aditya explains "How his new mom is so good, which the one who is going to marry Kunal"

Not gonna lie I actually want to see this happen. I want to see the "hypocrite" side of Esha when she realizes Kunal can give his love and affection to another woman since she abandoned him. I want to see Esha's reaction of Kunal committing to another and the same woman actually respecting him back for a good person he is. She must see she lost a diamond when she settled for gold! 

[Rockket Raja]

Actually court will give the custody to the mother and allow the father to see the child. Here it is vice versa and wrong.

[Harry Jordan]

Actually court will give the custody to the mother and allow the father to see the child. Here it is vice versa and wrong.

To be honest this is how the actual system works. To some extent I applaud the idea that Esha isn't willing to tarnish Kunal's legacy to claim Aditya. The Court is taking the child's mental health and well being into consideration and joint custody are often the first approach in every divorce cases if a child is involved. However , adultery can never negate the parent's parental rights in any divorce case so Esha will get partial custody in the end. Kunal has no choice but to accept that because every legal system favors the mother over father.

In every pop culture , law , any form of literature you will find. A Father will always be secondary in the family. People believe that Fathers get to pass their names in generations but the truth is that is the only identity they leave in the world. A child no matter boy or girl , will always have fond memory of the mother rather than a father.

Which is why in the Indian system , Father is considered second class. India is even called Bharat 'MATA' (Mother) for a reason. There is no such importance to "Pitah" in this country. RANT COMPLETE!