Adultery Priya Didi
#41
“Twenty-five,” she said.


“I wasn’t in a rush.
 But Amit came into my life like a calm wind. 
 Nothing dramatic. 
 Nothing intense. 
 Just… peaceful. Safe. 
 His family liked me. 
 He liked me. It  made sense.”


“You sound very grounded.”

“I try to be,” she said. 
“But some days I just want to be chaotic. 
 Buy a flight ticket. 
 Cut my hair short. 
 Eat dessert before dinner.”


He smiled. “Do it. I fully support dessert-first rebellion.”

She glanced at him again, that same quiet amusement in her eyes.

“You’re more talkative than I expected,” she said.

“You’re more real than I expected, Priya Didi.”

She stilled for a moment. 

Not in discomfort

But something passed between them then, even if neither admitted it.

The kind of quiet where the wind outside suddenly feels louder. 

Where one gaze held too long might become a mistake.

She looked away first, standing with the water bottle.

“Alright. Go back to work before I distract you further.”

“Too late,” he murmured under his breath.

But she heard it.

She turned her head just slightly. 

Her smile was back. 

Small. Knowing. Then gone.

As she walked away, Ravi sat back in the chair, looking at the empty steel plates.

Their first meal together.

Just food. Just talk.



But something had shifted. 

Not loudly. 

Not dangerously.

Just… inward.



-- oOo --



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#42
Brilliant narration...i loved the way you started this story. Please update soon...its really poetic and asthetically build ?
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#43
(07-07-2025, 08:41 PM)Raj087 Wrote: Brilliant narration...i loved the way you started this story. Please update soon...its really poetic and asthetically build ?


Hi Raj087

Thank you so much for your kind words! 

I’m really glad the beginning spoke to you. It means a lot to hear that. 

I’m working on the next update and can’t wait to share more with you soon!  I will be posting some updates in a little while before I sleep. 

Please do read the upcoming updates when they’re out, and don’t forget to like and leave your thoughts in the comments. 

Your support truly encourages me to keep writing!


-- Shailu
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#44
Thursday Afternoon: Not Just Another Day


The fan spun lazily above him

Its blades slicing through the silence like time itself, measured, steady, indifferent.

Ravi sat hunched over his laptop.

Elbows resting on the desk

Eyes fixed on a slide deck that hadn’t changed in twenty minutes.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, un-moving.

The document was open. 

The task clear.

But his mind? 

Drifting.


He let out a slow breath

Leaned back in the chair, and glanced toward the half-open window.

The breeze brought in the distant thrum of Mumbai life, honking, footsteps, a barking dog far below.

And beneath it all, somewhere in the apartment, the quiet, occasional sound of steel against granite.

Or a faint clink of glass being set aside.

She was still moving out there.

Priya Didi.

Not just beautiful, though she was that, almost painfully so,

But… something else.

Something in her voice, her walk, her eyes.

She had this way of listening like she could see the spaces between your words.

Of laughing like she'd forgotten she was allowed to.

She felt complete, even in silence.


And somehow

That pulled him in more than anything loud or flirtatious ever could.



- o -


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#45
He thought about lunch again


The way she sat across from him

Hands folding gently over the spoon

Her voice steady, warm, teasing at times

But never too bold.

And that moment, when he’d asked if she missed home

And she’d paused, not with grief, but with a kind of earned quiet.

She had no home to go back to.

She hadn’t said it aloud.

But he had heard it. Felt it.

No parents to call.

And still, she smiled.

That unsettled him more than anything.

She wasn’t sad.

She wasn’t broken.

But there was a silence inside her

The kind that doesn’t beg for pity, just… lives with you.

Like a second heartbeat.


- o -


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#46
He blinked and sat up straight


Rubbed his face and opened a new tab

Trying to shake the fog.


He clicked open Slack

Typed a reply

Scheduled a quick sync call for next week.


But even now

The ghost of her voice was still in the room.

“Now it feels... less quiet. In a good way.”

That one line. 

So simple. 

So innocent.

And yet, it had replayed itself at least ten times in his head since lunch.

He checked the time. 3:57 PM.

He smiled to himself.

She’d said something about making tea at four.

He didn’t need it.

But he would go.

Not for the tea.

Not for the break.

But for her voice

Her smile

And the chance to hear her say something

Anything

That might linger again.


-- oOo --


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#47
Thursday, 4:00 PM: The Tea Between Them


Ravi stepped out of his room just as the kettle let out its soft whistle.

He paused at the doorway, smiling.

Right on time.

Priya was already there

Her back to him

Pouring hot water into two mugs.

Her hair was loosely braided now

A few strands falling near her ears.

The afternoon light lit up her profile as she leaned slightly over the counter—her silhouette soft, real, etched in grace.

She turned at the sound of his footsteps.

“4:01,” she said, eyes narrowing playfully. “Cutting it close.”

“I didn’t want to seem too eager,” Ravi grinned

Pulling out a chair at the dining table.

She brought the mugs over—black tea for her

A light milky chai for him.

“Be honest, Didi,” he said

Accepting the cup, “Are you secretly testing me for punctuality?”

She sat down across from him with a quiet smile. 

“Just making sure you’re not all talk. You said you liked tea breaks.”


“And I do. Especially if they come with company like this.”


- o -

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#48
Her eyes met his, a flicker of amusement dancing in them.



“So, do you do this often?” he asked, taking a careful sip. “Make tea at exactly 4?”

She nodded. “I like the rhythm. Morning coffee, afternoon tea. A little pause before the day drifts into evening.”

“You’re kind of poetic, Priya Didi.”

She chuckled. “Not poetic. Just old-college.”

“No,” Ravi said, watching her closely. “You’re… composed. You live like someone who values the little things.”

She tilted her head slightly, curious now. “And what about you? What do you value?”

He leaned back, thoughtful. “Still figuring that out. I like people who feel… familiar, even if I just met them.”

She smiled softly. “That’s a nice way to put it.”

“You know what’s strange?” he added, 

Turning the mug between his fingers. “This place doesn’t feel new anymore. I’ve been here barely three days, and it already feels like I’ve known it longer.”


“That’s the apartment?”


“No,” he said, meeting her eyes. “It’s you.”


She blinked once. 

Then smiled, lowering her gaze.
“Smooth.”


“Just honest, Priya Didi.”

She laughed, and it reached her eyes. “Amit said you were always charming.”

Ravi smiled. “I hope he also said I was well-behaved.”

“Oh, he did,” she said, mock-serious. “But that remains to be seen.”


They sipped quietly for a while, the conversation dipping into silence and rising again naturally.


“So what did you imagine,” she asked suddenly, “when you thought of Amit’s wife before you met me?”



- o -


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#49
He raised his eyebrows, caught.


“Honestly?” he said.

“Obviously.”

“I expected… someone very serious. Quiet.
 Maybe in salwars all the time. With glasses.
 Reads spiritual books. Watches news channels in the evening.”


She burst out laughing, covering her mouth. “Oh god.”

“But instead,” he continued with a teasing grin,
“I got this stunning, jeans-wearing,
filter-coffee-brewing
mystery girl who could easily pass off as a movie heroine.”


She narrowed her eyes

Still smiling. “Careful, Ravi. You’ll lose your ‘well-behaved’ badge very soon.”

“I’m counting on Didi’s mercy.”

She tilted her head again.

“Tell me something. Why do you keep calling me that?

“Didi?”

“Yes.”

Ravi paused

Then smiled—less playful now.

“Because I have to.”

There was something honest in his voice


And she caught it.




- o -


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#50
“You’re not afraid of me, are you?”


“No,” he said

Slowly. “Just… trying not to forget where I am. And whose home this is.”


She didn’t reply immediately.

Just stared into her tea.

“I’m not used to being someone’s wife yet,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I still feel like I’m pretending.”


Ravi nodded. “Sometimes I feel like I’m pretending to be an adult.”

That made her laugh again.


Outside, a crow cawed somewhere. 

A scooter zipped by. The world was moving on.


But inside this flat, at that small dining table, the clock had slowed down.

Ravi watched her fingers circle the rim of her cup

The way her eyes softened when she looked out toward the balcony

And he wondered

How much of her was still unspoken?

He didn’t want to ask. Not yet.

But he wanted to be around long enough to know.

“You make very good tea,” he said softly.


She looked at him. And this time, she didn’t smile.

She just held his gaze for a second longer than usual.

And then, as if snapping out of it, she stood up.

“Back to work, Mr. Remote Employee.”


“Yes, Priya Didi,” he said, rising slowly.


He walked back to his room. 

But her voice, and that long, silent look, stayed behind in his mind.


-- oOo --


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#51
Thursday 7:30pm - The Light Between Them


The sky outside had turned dark. The city below their second floor flat had begun to hum

Headlights streaking like lazy fireflies, horns distant but steady.

Inside 205, the lights were dimmed.

A single warm lamp near the bookshelf gave the living room a soft, golden hue.

Ravi stepped out of his room

Stretching from a long sit.

He paused at the hallway corner when he heard her.

Priya Didi.

She was seated cross, legged on the floor near the coffee table

Laptop open, earphones in, humming softly to a tune he couldn’t hear.

Her hair was let loose now, falling over her shoulders in a wavy frame.

She wore a soft, cream-colored t-shirt and cotton track pants.

Simple. Unremarkable. And yet, stunning.

He watched her for a moment before saying anything. Just watched.

The way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

The way she leaned forward, scribbled something in a notebook, and smiled to herself.

It wasn’t just attraction anymore.

It was curiosity. The kind that doesn’t stop with just looking.

She noticed him finally and pulled out one earbud.

“Finished working?” she asked.

“For today, yes. You?”

She nodded. “Just clearing emails. Nothing important.”


He stepped closer, leaned on the edge of the sofa.



- o -


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#52
“Want to eat now?” she asked


Glancing at the clock. “It’s already 7:30.”

“Yeah,” he said, 

Then smiled. “Only if Didi’s okay eating with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t overuse that word.”

“I might need to,” he teased. “It helps me stay sane.”

Switching off her laptop. “I am less than one year older than you Ravi, it feels strange someone calls me like that”

She got up and walked to the kitchen “I didn’t make anything much new tonight. Just sambar and egg curry.”

“That sounds better than anything I’ve ever made for myself.”


By the time he joined her at the table, two plates were already set.

She handed him a spoon.

“I usually don’t like eating alone,” she said, casually. “So I wait for Amit.  But this is… nice.”

Ravi nodded. “Same. Even if it’s with someone pretending to be my elder sister.”

She let out a soft laugh. “Careful, Ravi.”

They began eating. The food was hot, fragrant. Familiar now.

“So what were you working on?” he asked between bites.

She shrugged. “Nothing glamorous. Just replying to vendors, confirming some stuff about the community event I’m helping organize.”

“You do events?”

“Just small society-level ones,” she said. “I don’t like sitting idle. I take on what I can.”

He smiled. “Of course you do. Can’t imagine you not doing ten things at once.”

She looked up, half amused. “Why do you say that?”

“Because…” he hesitated. “You feel… complete. Like one of those people who doesn’t need fixing. You just… glow quietly.”

The fork in her hand stilled, just for a second.

“That’s a very strange compliment,” she said softly.


“But true.”


She didn’t answer.


- o -


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#53
Just looked at her plate and smiled.


A quiet smile. 

One you don’t return, you just notice.

A few more bites passed in silence.

“You’re easy to talk to, Ravi,” she said suddenly.

He glanced up.

“Sometimes I find it hard with people. Too formal. Too rehearsed. But with you... it just flows.”

Ravi swallowed slowly.

“It’s easy with you too, Didi,” he said,

Voice lower now. “Maybe because you don’t talk like you’re trying to impress anyone. You just… are.”

There was a stillness between them now. Not awkward. Just soft. Open.

“I don’t think Amit expected us to bond this quickly,” she said,

Finally. “He thought you’d stay in your room mostly.”


“He doesn’t know you’re the reason I leave it.”

She looked at him

Eyes lingering just a little too long this time.

“Ravi…” she began, but didn’t finish.


He shook his head lightly. “I know. I’m careful.”


“I appreciate that.”

She got up, collected their plates.

He offered to help, and she let him this time.

They moved around each other in the kitchen, quiet,

Choreographed without meaning to be.

Washing, wiping, putting things back in place.

After they were done, she leaned on the counter, sipping water from a steel tumbler.

“You’ll be here for a while, right?” she asked.


“A few months, at least.”

“Good,” she said, turning away. “It’s… nice to have someone around.”

As she walked toward her room, Ravi watched her go.

And for a fleeting second, she turned.

Not to say anything.

Just… to look.

And then she disappeared behind her door.



-- oOo --



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#54
Thursday Night: The Things He Can’t Say


The ceiling fan spun in slow, tired circles above him.

The shadows of its blades rippled across the wall like soft, hypnotic waves.

The bedside lamp was off.

His phone screen, dimmed, showed 11:02 PM before going black.

Ravi lay on his back, one arm under his head, the other resting across his chest.

He’d been still for a while now—no scrolling, no music, no distractions.

Just his thoughts, stretching quietly into the dark.

He could hear the occasional creak of wood from the kitchen shelves.

The distant hum of a water pump somewhere in the building.

The night breeze rustling faintly through the balcony grill.
And somewhere beyond the hallway, her door.

Closed. Quiet. Like it always was.

But he knew she was inside.

It was strange, how just the awareness of another person’s presence could keep you so alert.

So awake. So... drawn.

He wasn’t used to this. Not so quickly. Not this intensely.

He’d only been here three days.

And yet

The way she smiled when she didn’t have to.

The way she listened—not just heard, but truly listened.

The way she walked across the room as if the air had to adjust to her rhythm.

And her face, lit by the golden light of the dining lamp, eyes soft and clever, lips carrying more quiet truth than she ever spoke aloud.

She wasn’t trying to be anything.

That’s what unsettled him the most.

She wasn’t trying to be beautiful. Or kind. Or graceful.

She just was.

And that made her impossible to ignore.

Ravi let out a slow breath.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong.

They hadn’t crossed a line.

It was all innocent.

A few conversations. Some smiles. Shared meals. Laughter.

But what he felt tonight

When they stood together in the kitchen, drying plates in silence, it hadn’t felt innocent.

It had felt... inevitable.

He turned onto his side now, facing the wall. His fingers curled near his cheek, his breath steady, but his heart wasn’t still.

He could still feel the faint scent of her

Something soft, floral, barely there

Lingering in the air after she’d walked away.

He closed his eyes.

Not to sleep.

Just to keep from imagining her door opening in the dark.



-- oOo --


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#55
A Few Weeks Later: The Familiar Distance


There’s something peculiar about human closeness.

We like to believe that relationships are shaped by events

That something has to happen for two people to drift toward each other.

A moment. A confession. A touch. A fall.

But most of the time, it isn’t drama that draws people together.

It’s routine.

It’s two people sharing the same table every evening, talking over tea

Laughing softly at the same joke

Walking past each other in the hallway without needing words

Because words have slowly become optional.

It’s the quiet agreements that form without discussion.

The familiar sounds, her bangles in the morning, his slippers in the evening.

The casual, everyday glances that hold just a fraction too long

But never long enough to change anything.

In the weeks that followed, nothing changed between Ravi and Priya Didi.

And yet, everything had.

They hadn’t grown flirtatious.

They hadn’t started exchanging late-night messages or secret glances.


There were no whispered words.

No dangerous closeness.

Nothing that could be captured or condemned.




- o -

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#56
But still, it was there.


That strange, slow burn.

The comfort of each other’s presence had grown so naturally, so gently, that neither of them could say exactly when it happened.

But it had. Like how one morning, you realize a plant you never noticed had bloomed right under your window.

Ravi began calling her “Priya Didi” more often.

Sometimes with warmth, sometimes with restraint, sometimes just to remind himself.

And slowly, she stopped correcting him.

At first, the word had amused her, made her laugh with mock irritation.

But over time, it had settled around her like a shawl, both comforting and protective.

When he said it, there was no mischief in his tone. 

Just a kind of reverence.

And when she heard it, something in her softened, as if being someone’s ‘Didi’ kept her from being anything else.


Amit remained busy, as always, work trips, late hours, tired evenings.

He trusted Ravi. He trusted her. And that was the most dangerous part of it all.


Because this story wasn’t about betrayal.

Not yet.

It was about the stories we tell ourselves to feel innocent.

That nothing is happening.

That it’s just company.

Just comfort.

Just… someone who listens.

But even the deepest oceans begin with a drop.

And in this apartment, in the soft silences between tea and dinner, those first drops had already fallen.





-- oOo --


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#57
Amit's call


It was a quiet Saturday morning when Amit called.

Ravi was pouring himself a second cup of coffee when the phone vibrated on the counter.

He picked it up casually,

Expecting a short check-in—but the voice on the other end was brisk, purposeful.

“Ravi,” Amit said,

“Listen. You remember that old property in Andheri I told you about? The one we’re planning to renovate?”

“Yeah,” Ravi replied, blinking off the sleep.

“I’ve been meaning to go check the place, but I’ve been swamped.”

“Think you and Priya can go today? Just take a look, see what needs to be done.”

“It’s a small two-bedroom. Everything’s locked, caretaker has the keys. I’ll send you the address.”


Ravi hesitated for a moment. “Sure… yeah. We can go.”

“Thanks, yaar. Ask her to take photos, get an idea of the walls, plumbing, flooring, whatever. I’ll handle the rest.”

When he hung up, Ravi stood for a moment with the phone in his hand, smiling.

This wasn’t just a chore.

This was time. Space.

Her. And him.

Alone.




-- oOo --


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#58
The Auto Ride


It was late morning when the auto pulled up in front of the gate

Its faded yellow paint dulled by years of sun

Its plastic sheet roof fluttering slightly with every breeze.

The city buzzed in the background, already wide awake.

Traffic hummed, horns called, the world moved without apology.

But inside that auto, in that brief, narrow bench seat, something paused.

Ravi stepped aside first, letting Priya climb in.

She gathered the loose end of her dupatta

Lifted the edge of her kurti slightly to step up gracefully

And she slid into the corner.

Her back straight, her hands folded in her lap.

The sunlight caught the curve of her neck as she adjusted the hair falling down one side of her shoulder.

Ravi followed, stepping in beside her.

The seat was narrow. Worn thin from use.

There was no way to avoid contact.


Their knees brushed.

Her elbow grazed his arm.



- o -

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#59
He didn’t move away.


Neither did she.

And just like that, the journey began.

The auto started with a grunt, 

Lunged forward slightly, and they both swayed.

Ravi instinctively shifted to brace himself

But her shoulder met his first.

A soft thud.

The briefest press of her arm against his.

She looked up at him, startled.

Their eyes met.

“Sorry,” she said, softly, pulling back half an inch.

But half an inch was not enough.

He smiled. “No complaints here.”

She gave him a look.

Not disapproving, warned amusement.

The kind that hides a smile under silence.

Then came the first turn.

Sharp.

The auto dipped to one side 

And Priya tilted with it


Right into Ravi’s chest.



- o -

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#60
Her hand instinctively reached for the metal bar behind the driver,


But her other hand pressed against Ravi’s shoulder to steady herself.

And in that moment, everything inside him jolted.

It wasn’t just contact.

It was warmth.

Pressure.

The unexpected, unmistakable feel of her body pressed against his side.

Light, but real.

Her hair tickled his jaw.

Her cheek brushed the edge of his shirt.

Time slowed.

Or maybe Ravi stopped noticing anything beyond her.

She straightened quickly,

Brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve.

Her breath was slightly quicker.

Her eyes avoided his.

She hadn’t meant to fall.

But her body had.


And Ravi… had felt every inch of it.



- o -


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