Adultery Love Sex And War : Age Of Darkness

[Blackdick11]

Hi does this story has hot beautiful girl sex with old man or uncle or watchman type of story? please tell.

This isn’t that kind of story you're looking for.

[Bakchod Londa]

The very thing Hemant was afraid of has finally happened. I can’t help but wonder the same thing, HOW did Sonarika find out? DID Rustom really mention in his letter who Michael King is, or is there something more to it? BECAUSE honestly, my instinct telling me she didn’t learn this from the letter at all. It feels like someone else must have told her… AND for some reason, my suspicion keeps circling back to Vikram’s sister, ANJANA. I don’t know why, but something about it just doesn’t sit right. If Hemant gets exposed. Anjana is the one who benefits the most. AFTER all, the revenge is meant for MICHAEL KING not HEMANT KUMAR.

If so then hemant and sonarika are going to have a really nasty fight, where they’ll both start throwing accusations at each other about "cheating and adultery" & if sonarika found out about MK from Anjana then she probably also told her about his latest hot affairs, just to add more fuel to the fire,,,so that it completely kills any hope of them getting back together.

[Demeter]

Like I said before, I have split this chapter into two which means Chapter 32 will come online this time without delay on Saturday. 
.
.
...

Saturday's announcement is already behind us, while more than a third of Sunday is now history. 
This means that the announcement has remained empty, or rather, it has turned out to be a mirage. 
Nothing more than a chimera, and therefore an immense nothingness!

One always learns something new, for example, that one should not weigh everything that is said on golden scales and take it seriously.


-----------
Demeter

[Blackdick11]

It happens, bro. updates don’t always drop on the exact date they’re announced.
There must be some reason; otherwise Harry wouldn’t announce a date and then skip it.

[Harry Jordan]

One always learns something new, for example, that one should not weigh everything that is said on golden scales and take it seriously.


-----------
Demeter

Unfortunately , yes there is a delay. And the reason is that I was planning a special chapter with Sonarika on the eve of Women's day. But I had to modify somethings in the story so that there was more to her character. And it has progressed very well until now , because we will see some unexplored backstory of Sonarika in this chapter and also go in depth on the equation between Sonarika and Meghna , including their history. Certain things about them will be explored which will be pivotal to Sonarika's future arc and eventually set up her storyline in the Goa setting.

The reason for no chapter Yesterday was because Saturday was my Dad's Birthday and Today I couldn't do women's day because of the World Cup Final!!!


But like every chapter,  I an assure you , it will be worth the wait. Next Saturday will be posting the Women's day special chapter on Sonarika. We will spend some time learning about Sonarika and her history. The Delhi episodes will be quiet a mix of drama and thrill as Sonarika reaches her crossroad in life where she will have to choose her transformation to evolve so she can survive the war coming to her!

[RCF]

This whole I missed the Saturday so its going to be next Saturday is troubling me, If you are ready post it why wait till Saturday? Is it some kind of auspicious day for Sonarika or Hemanth to screw Bollywood beauties lol

You earlier mentioned Chapter is ready now you are saying you are improvising it for Sonarika's arc, then why wait till Saturday?

~RCF

[Harry Jordan]

This whole I missed the Saturday so its going to be next Saturday is troubling me, If you are ready post it why wait till Saturday? Is it some kind of auspicious day for Sonarika or Hemanth to screw Bollywood beauties lol

You earlier mentioned Chapter is ready now you are saying you are improvising it for Sonarika's arc, then why wait till Saturday?

~RCF

Actually I simply chose Saturday because that is the time readers are quiet comfortable with updates so that people read it comfortably. Many had sujjested weekends and I can understand why since that is a more comfortable timeline for them to enjoy the chapters. 

And yes , it was ready , but when I read it myself , it simply didn't work. I myself felt the chapter was bland with a lot of nothing happening. And it was bothering me how Sonarika's arc wasn't getting the uplift I wanted. So I wanted to explore a small but intriguing part of her past which when I added had to rework the conversation and alter the events that followed it to some extent. I intended to release it on the eve of Women's Day but sadly things didn't work out.

I will post the chapter once I am absolutely sure the quality isn't affected. Saturday is just a target I am trying to follow , maybe I'll post it sooner if I am satisfied with the final outcome.

[RCF]

Actually I simply chose Saturday because that is the time readers are quiet comfortable with updates so that people read it comfortably. Many had sujjested weekends and I can understand why since that is a more comfortable timeline for them to enjoy the chapters. 

And yes , it was ready , but when I read it myself , it simply didn't work. I myself felt the chapter was bland with a lot of nothing happening. And it was bothering me how Sonarika's arc wasn't getting the uplift I wanted. So I wanted to explore a small but intriguing part of her past which when I added had to rework the conversation and alter the events that followed it to some extent. I intended to release it on the eve of Women's Day but sadly things didn't work out.

I will post the chapter once I am absolutely sure the quality isn't affected. Saturday is just a target I am trying to follow , maybe I'll post it sooner if I am satisfied with the final outcome.

Only few readers suggested it and I find it selfish. Most of the stories here get updated all over the week with no timeline esp for only weekends, when so many readers can read it on other stories why restrict the updates on this one to Saturday? There are many readers who will read late nights, or if they get bored on a less work day, it doesn't hurt to post it as soon as it is ready.  Up to you but I feel its unnecessary stalling of the update once complete. 

~RCF

[Harry Jordan]

Only few readers suggested it and I find it selfish. Most of the stories here get updated all over the week with no timeline esp for only weekends, when so many readers can read it on other stories why restrict the updates on this one to Saturday? There are many readers who will read late nights, or if they get bored on a less work day, it doesn't hurt to post it as soon as it is ready.  Up to you but I feel its unnecessary stalling of the update once complete. 

~RCF

Yeah you're right. I did this technique simply to motivate myself to work on my story so that I can post each chapter on regular intervals. I simply used Saturday as a target so that I don't fall behind and create unexpected delays. One thing I have noticed is that usually gaps between each updates is when readers feels less involved with the story. Which is why I assumed a Saturday target so that I can post one chapter every week. But you're right , I'll just post the chapter once my review of it is done and I am satisfied by the final outcome!

[Demeter]

A good story is characterised above all by its dynamism, which captivates the reader. 

‘And this story is a very good one indeed!’

This dynamism is only possible through continuity, which is why the time between the publication of following chapters should be kept as short and consistent as possible 
in order to maintain the reader's interest.

 Another aspect I should mention is that I find it very regrettable that readers (with a few exceptions) do not put their thoughts, expectations, feelings and views about the 
story into words and comment on them, even if it is only two words!

Perhaps some readers will take this as an opportunity to get more involved in the future. 


-----------
Demeter

[DeanWinchester00007]

What a marvelous update . Every time , Harry . You are just ascending with every update . 

That foursome scene is very good . Now I understand you state earlier you are trying to write scene involved with two actress but you gave us bonus with FOURSOME scene . It was so good . 

The Action , I was missing it . I love the gruesome death scene .  How MK does not hold himself when it comes to kill his enemy and I want more   . 

The ENDING was one of the great part of the entire story .

SONARIKA really got some guts speaking to MK about failing of their Marriage . 

I hope when the confrontation scene come , MK does not hold himself , for the sake of maintaining the DECORUM . 

and Finally be free from HEMANT? 

So what happens now ? Is HEMANT gonna cease to exist ? Now that everyone Knows the TRUTH , does MK now be in his True self ? Was HEMANT ever existed ? Was there really a HEMANT or MK was just pretending to be some one else . 

If I have to Choose I would choose HEMANT over MK . I see them as Two complete Individual . Hemant should be the person MK wanted to be . 

and as SONA .

I dont know how she knows the truth ?

It cannot be MK's Mentor , ( thought MK just told He was in love with her Mentor's daughter , So this is like any bollywood movie scene   ) 

But I think it would be VIKRAM who would have revealed Hemant's true Identity , so he can sway SONA from Hemant . 

As for Sona , we need to understand from her point of view. She is an average middle class women , for her to know that the man she slept and had kid was not a simply a man hiding his identity but Very dangerous Psychopathic Man , who butcher half of dozen of people everyday ( again as a reader we know the his truth but She does not know MK ) . The man who terrorize the mafia of half world . 

He never confessed to her , but SONA did confessed her cheating to him . She accepted her fault but HEMANT never did , that makes him coward and He could have told her any time . Directly or Indirectly He did bring danger to her kid and her family , though he saved them too and now his truth is out , Enemies in future will target his family . 

She married a common man not MK , So her anger or what ever she is gonna do with him is some what justifiable . Just because he was good father and husband , did not cheat , would not absolve his fault . 

Just like HEMANT thought that SONA never loved , SONA could also feel the same . The Man who has done lot of shit , is definitely capable of fooling her too . 

Yes , She cheated but HEMANT's hiding his past is not something one should ignore or see it as irrelevant issue or even downplaying it would be wrong thing . 

We have talked about this earlier , And Many members said earlier , That Hemant's hiding his past is much bigger issue than SONA's cheating and Now I agree with it . 

I mean as they say every Saint has past and every sinner has a future . Hemant cannot plays a saint unless He accepts that he is a sinner too . 

And comparing too , SONA's Sin , Hemant's was bigger . Burying your past does not mean You dont own it . He did not give Sona's chance to choose .  Sona cheated but Hemant too . She is paying for her SINS and Now It is Hemant's Time to pay for his . 



Again , Wonderful Update harry . The ending was great . I would love to read Sona's disbelief or confusion or what ever she felt when she learned the truth about Her husband or MK . 

Would not she afraid of Such a Man who terrorize the biggest Mafias of world . 

I hope you  write more scenes of SONA x HEMANT . I missed them , So many updates and no scenes of them together . Now here finally , They gonna meet , Can you please increase the length of next Chapters . Just write more dialogues of them . Anything them fighting , cussing , anything , Just please write a paragraph of SONA X HEMANT  and if there is little bit possibility of them    , There is something call HATEFUCKING so maybe maybe maybe  . 

 Harry . And I agree with your point of Posting updates on SATURDAY NIGHT ( just make it extra worth the wait ) . 


12/10.1 extra for Foursome and other 1 for SONA's Return 


                           
  You are the BEST HARRY

[Demeter]

"Dean Winchester00007"s comments seem understandable and, in part, plausible to me.
There is general agreement, but there are differing views on one fundamental point.

First of all, I would like to emphasise that I greatly appreciate the character of Sonarika and that the sections in which she appears are of particular importance to me. 
The moments they share, full of sensual encounters, are characterised by an exciting atmosphere and, in my humble opinion, have a special appeal that even overshadows 
the moments with Pranitha.

Equating the adultery and affair with Vikram, which Sonarika had behind the back of her husband and the father of her child, with Hemant's silence about his past is
incomprehensible, daring and inaccurate.
At this point, Hemant had largely come to terms with his past and closed this chapter in his life. 
It is quite conceivable that Sonarika played a major role in Michael King's resurrection in Hemant. She felt it was imperative to intervene in the cafeteria in her role as protector. 
In her opinion, Hemant was not sufficiently capable of asserting himself and protecting his family. She felt the need to show him what she expected of a ‘real man’, 
namely one who was capable of protecting himself and his family.

At that point, MK was, in a sense, no longer in existence.
Sonarika harboured the desire and dream of having a strong man by her side, someone she may no longer have seen in Hemant. In my opinion, this urge was also the trigger
for her affair and sexual relationship with Vikram.
Hemant had his first extramarital sex only after Sonarika had revealed her affair with Vikram, not before.
Hemant considered discarding all the past events and making a fresh start with Sonarika if she had not gone to Vikram after their conversation and he had not found her in
Vikram's flat. Hemant had booked a hotel room for that evening, which he wanted to spend with Sonarika. 
However, things turned out differently than planned because he met her at Vikram's flat.

It would also be interesting to explore the following questions: 
What circumstances led Hemant to become Michael King?
Did he possibly have a secret mission?
I would like to cautiously note that one might wonder whether he was possibly working on behalf of government institutions and carrying out certain operations.
The question arises as to whether he was authorised to talk about this, apart from the small circle of people who were responsible for planning and commanding these operational actions?

Questions upon questions, which will hopefully be answered by the author soon...

-----------
Demeter

[RCF]

We are comparing apples to oranges..both are betrayals of different kind. Doesn't matter which sin is bigger or smaller.

What's important is Sonarika has every right to question Hemanth on hiding his past esp when ghosts from his past did not yet die and are looming around to bring war to his door step and He is still claiming custodial on their kids on the name of her infidelity and we have seen she gave up everything but now knowing what she knew she can reclaim what's important. Would an attack on Karan and his death make his sin bigger and justify Sonarika's actions?
He brought Sara to his home and made her his nanny, a living proof of his failure as MK. There ends the matter, him fighting over the risk with Sonarika is stupidity.

At the same time, Sonarika doesn't really know what MK is capable of so she cannot understand the fact that, unless the whole family is together with Hemanth, they are not safe anywhere..a simple grab and go like what happened with the goons when they took Sonarika can happen again if they are not with him and his security.

So couple needs to discuss and come to an agreement and safety of Karan and Anjali should be priority over their petty arguments on who failed this marriage, Marriage is already gone and nothing left to ponder.

~RCF

[Munda007]

We are comparing apples to oranges..both are betrayals of different kind. Doesn't matter which sin is bigger or smaller.

What's important is Sonarika has every right to question Hemanth on hiding his past esp when ghosts from his past did not yet die and are looming around to bring war to his door step and He is still claiming custodial on their kids on the name of her infidelity and we have seen she gave up everything but now knowing what she knew she can reclaim what's important. Would an attack on Karan and his death make his sin bigger and justify Sonarika's actions?
He brought Sara to his home and made her his nanny, a living proof of his failure as MK. There ends the matter, him fighting over the risk with Sonarika is stupidity.

At the same time, Sonarika doesn't really know what MK is capable of so she cannot understand the fact that, unless the whole family is together with Hemanth, they are not safe anywhere..a simple grab and go like what happened with the goons when they took Sonarika can happen again if they are not with him and his security.

So couple needs to discuss and come to an agreement and safety of Karan and Anjali should be priority over their petty arguments on who failed this marriage, Marriage is already gone and nothing left to ponder.

~RCF

Important is the writter has never made Vikram a villain. So Sonarika going back to Vikram is very much likely ending.

[RCF]

Important is the writter has never made Vikram a villain. So Sonarika going back to Vikram is very much likely ending.

Vikram will become villain, its inevitable. He is already being influenced by two women - Meghana and his sister. 

He will follow their footprints thinking he will get Sonarika but will end up becoming that possessive ex who will eventually become a bad memory for Sonarika. 

~RCF

[rk1300051]

When will come next update...?????

[Ishowspeedy]

Any chances update today.....?

[Harry Jordan]

So folks,  as promised. Chapter 32 will be online in an hour. Compared to other chapters , this might be a little short. But it has some few surprises and reveals. And I have done a small tweak in the story with an introduction of a new character which is why the delay happened. This and the next chapter will follow Sonarika's perspective and go through the events she has been going through on her vacation in Delhi until she meets with Hemant in Mumbai at a later chapter. I will be taking an interesting approach to Hemant's backstory with this chapter as this chapter will reveal some cool aspects of Hemant's flashback before the birth of Michael King. Like I said in an old chapter , Hemant was always the blueprint for Michael King , so we will see a tease of that blueprint in the climax of this chapter. Saturday seems to be a good time for chapter posting so brace yourself for Chapter 33 in next saturday. 

For now , enjoy Chapter 32! 

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                               CHAPTER 32  

The iron gates of the old bungalow in Janakpuri creaked open with a familiar metallic groan, the same sound that had greeted Sonarika countless times during her childhood. The afternoon sun rested gently on the cream-colored walls of the house, warming the bougainvillea vines that climbed along the boundary. As the car rolled in, Sonarika felt an ache of nostalgia settle quietly in her chest. This place had always been her refuge — a world where problems once seemed simple and life had still felt whole.


Karan jumped out of the car before anyone could stop him. The seven-year-old ran across the driveway with an excitement that only children carried so effortlessly.

"Nanaji!" he shouted.

Jagjeet Sharma stepped out from the veranda, his broad frame still imposing despite the grey in his beard. The moment he saw the boy sprinting toward him, his stern businessman’s face melted into a grin. He bent down and scooped Karan into a tight embrace.

"Arre hero! Look at you" Jagjeet laughed, lifting him easily.

Behind him, Meenakshi Sharma hurried forward, wiping her hands on the end of her dupatta, her eyes already moist with happiness.

"My Karan has grown taller again" she said softly, cupping his face.

Sonarika stood by the car for a moment, watching the scene. The warmth of it filled her chest and yet pressed painfully against something fragile inside her. Her parents looked so happy — happy in a way that made the secret she carried feel heavier.

Anjali stepped beside her and nudged her shoulder lightly.

"You’re staring like a guest" the teenager whispered with a small smile.

"I know… it just feels the same as always" Sonarika exhaled slowly. 

They walked toward the house together. Meenakshi wrapped Sonarika in a long hug, the kind that only mothers could give — lingering, protective, wordless.

"You’ve become thin again" she scolded gently.

"Work" Sonarika replied with a practiced smile.

Anjali was pulled into the circle next, receiving kisses and affectionate teasing until she laughed despite herself. For a few brief minutes the house buzzed with laughter, with questions, with overlapping voices.

And for those few minutes, Sonarika almost believed everything was normal.

Inside the bungalow, the scent of sandalwood polish and cardamom tea drifted through the halls. Every room carried a memory. The framed family photographs along the staircase, the old piano she had abandoned during college, the courtyard where she and Anjali had played endless games as children.

Karan had already disappeared into the garden with Jagjeet, both of them arguing loudly about toy cars and engines.

"He will turn into a mechanic like you" Meenakshi laughed from the doorway.

"Not mechanic" Jagjeet corrected proudly from outside. 

"Automobile expert!"

Sonarika leaned against the window frame, watching them. Karan was showing his grandfather a tiny racing car, speaking with the seriousness of a businessman closing a deal. Jagjeet listened with full attention, nodding dramatically.

The sight filled her with warmth — and with grief. Once, she had imagined Hemant standing there beside her. Watching their son with quiet pride. That life had once been steady, balanced. Predictable in the best ways. Hemant had been calm where she was impulsive, thoughtful where she was restless. But somewhere along the road, she had grown curious about a different version of herself. A reckless one.

Vikram Bajaj had entered her life like a storm — exciting, daring, intoxicating. With him everything had felt unpredictable and thrilling, like living in a story where consequences didn’t exist. For a while she had convinced herself it was freedom. Now it only felt like ruin. Hemant was gone, not by fate but by her own actions. Vikram too had drifted out of her life, leaving behind nothing but the echo of mistakes. What had once felt thrilling now seemed hollow and childish. She had gambled stability for excitement. And lost both.

That evening the family gathered for dinner around the large wooden table that had stood in the house for decades. Jagjeet spoke enthusiastically about his automobile spare business expanding into new distribution lines. Meenakshi discussed neighbors and old family friends. Karan told dramatic stories about his institute. Anjali laughed easily, slipping back into the comfort of the house she had spent half her childhood visiting. Sonarika participated in the conversations, smiling and responding, careful to keep her voice light. No one at that table knew that her marriage was quietly collapsing.

They believed she and Hemant were simply 'expanding their earnings' 

They believed everything would eventually settle. She watched her parent's peaceful faces and knew she could not break that illusion yet. Later that night, after everyone had gone to sleep, Sonarika sat alone on the balcony outside her old bedroom. The Delhi air carried a cool breeze and the distant sound of traffic humming through the city.

Her phone vibrated softly.

It was a message from Neha, her therapist.

'How are you feeling today?'

Sonarika stared at the screen for a long moment before typing.

'Better. Being here helps'

And it did help, in a quiet way.

She had been speaking to Neha regularly through video calls. Those sessions had slowly forced her to confront the truth she had avoided — that healing would require facing her own mistakes without running from them.

Ragini too had been checking on her constantly, sometimes sending ridiculous memes just to make her laugh. Small anchors in a chaotic sea. Her parents were proud of her new job at Vatika Botanical Research in Goa. To them it was a fresh beginning, an exciting opportunity. In truth, it was also an escape. A place far away from the wreckage of her marriage. Across the garden lights, she could see Jagjeet locking the front gate for the night. Karan’s small bicycle lay near the steps. Inside the house, Anjali’s laughter drifted faintly from the guest room where she was watching something on her phone.

Life continued around her.

And yet Sonarika knew something within her had cracked like glass — a fracture that would always remain visible.

But for now, sitting in the quiet balcony of her childhood home, she allowed herself a fragile comfort. The past inside this house reminded her that she had once been someone simpler. Someone kinder. And perhaps, if she kept moving forward — through therapy, through honest reflection, through rebuilding her life piece by piece — she might not become that person again. But she might become someone wiser. Someone who finally understood the cost of her choices. And maybe, someday, she would learn how to forgive herself.


The next morning sunlight filtered gently through the neem tree that leaned over the backyard wall of the Sharma bungalow. The lawn behind the house had always been wide and open, mostly grass and a few old shrubs that Meenakshi maintained out of habit rather than passion. As a child, Sonarika had imagined it as a garden full of color, but life had moved too quickly for her to ever return to that dream.


Now, standing there with a notebook in hand, she studied the patch of earth like a quiet architect planning something meaningful. Working with plants had always been her calm place. With her upcoming position at Vatika Botanical Research in Goa, she had felt a renewed curiosity toward the craft she once loved deeply. The idea came to her the previous night—remodel the back lawn, even if it was just a small section. Not a professional project. Just something alive. Something growing.

A small nursery nearby in Janakpuri still operated where it had for decades. The place smelled of damp soil, fertilizer, and blooming marigolds the moment she walked through its gates. Sonarika wandered between rows of saplings with a basket hooked on her arm.

Tulsi.

Jasmine.

Bougainvillea.

A few medicinal herbs.

Her fingers brushed leaves like someone greeting old friends after a long absence. The nursery caretaker watched her with mild curiosity as she examined the soil quality of different saplings, occasionally making notes on her phone.

By the time she left, the car’s back seat was filled with small plants, seed packets, and gardening tools.

Driving back through the narrow residential lanes of Janakpuri, she slowed near a row of houses that looked vaguely familiar. As she turned the corner, she noticed a woman standing near a gate across the road.

For a moment, their eyes met.

The woman froze.

There was something unmistakably startled in her expression—like someone who had just seen a ghost. Her gaze lingered on Sonarika’s face for barely two seconds before she turned abruptly and walked inside the house without looking back.

Sonarika frowned slightly.

The woman looked incredibly familiar.

Yet the memory refused to surface.

She tried to replay the moment while parking the car inside her parents’ driveway, but the name simply refused to arrive. It was one of those strange mental gaps where recognition existed without identity.

Eventually she shrugged it off and began carrying the saplings into the backyard.

Her phone vibrated just as she placed the final pot near the grass.

It was a message.

From Neha.

'I’ll be in Delhi next week for a conference. Thought we could do a face-to-face session if you’re comfortable'

Sonarika felt a wave of relief wash over her.

The therapy sessions through video calls had helped, but something about the idea of speaking to Neha in person felt grounding. She typed back quickly.

'That would be really good'

She slipped the phone into her pocket and knelt down near the soil bed she had marked with chalk earlier. The earth was slightly dry, but rich. She began loosening it carefully with a small hand shovel.

Minutes passed quietly.

The repetitive rhythm of digging, arranging soil, and placing saplings began to calm her mind. For the first time in months, her thoughts were not tangled in regret or anxiety.

They were simply present.

"Look at you"

Meenakshi’s voice came from the veranda behind her.

Sonarika turned and saw her mother watching with a soft smile.

"So this is what my daughter does now" Meenakshi continued, stepping down into the grass.

Sonarika replied, brushing soil off her hands. 

"Practice, if I’m joining Vatika, I can’t go there like a complete amateur"

Meenakshi chuckled.

"You used to spend hours with plants when you were young. Remember the terrace garden you tried to build in class nine?"

Sonarika laughed softly.

"I killed half of them"

"Yes But the other half survived because you refused to give up" Meenakshi said, amused. 

Sonarika planted another sapling into the soil and pressed the earth around it gently.

"It feels good" she admitted. 

"Being back with plants"

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

The wind rustled the leaves of the neem tree overhead.

Then Sonarika remembered something.

"Ma… I saw someone while coming back from the nursery"

Meenakshi raised an eyebrow.

"Someone?"

"A woman. She looked really familiar… like I should know her. She went into one of the houses near the corner"

Meenakshi’s lips curved into a knowing smile.

"Oh"

Sonarika noticed the expression immediately.

"What?"

"That’s what happens when you stay away for so many years,” Meenakshi teased lightly. “You forget people’s faces"

Sonarika blinked in confusion.

"You mean I know her?"

Meenakshi folded her arms, clearly enjoying the moment.

"You didn’t recognize Reshma?"

The name landed like a small explosion in Sonarika’s chest.

For a moment she simply stared.

"Reshma?" she repeated quietly.

Meenakshi nodded.

"She moved back here about three years ago. Lives in that house now"

Sonarika slowly sat back on her heels, the soil-covered shovel resting loosely in her hand.

Reshma.

Her childhood friend. Her closest companion during secondary years before college took them in different directions. They had been inseparable once. Always together. Always laughing. So close that Meghna used to complain constantly about feeling like a third wheel around them. But the memory that surfaced in Sonarika’s mind now was not just friendship.

It was deeper. More complicated.

Back then they had been teenagers—curious, confused, discovering emotions they didn’t fully understand. In those quiet years of early adolescence, their closeness had blurred into something more intimate. Something secret. Reshma had been her first experience of affection beyond innocence. Her first chapter of intimacy.

A part of her life she had carefully sealed away in memory. And now, after all these years, the universe had placed her right across the street. Sonarika stared at the small garden she was building, but her mind was somewhere else entirely. It felt strangely symbolic.

After everything that had happened in her life… after the mistakes with Hemant, the chaos with Vikram, the slow painful process of therapy and self-reflection…

Now this. Another unfinished chapter returning. She exhaled slowly. Perhaps this wasn’t random. Perhaps the universe had its own way of bringing people back into your path when it was time to confront things left unresolved. Meenakshi gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You should visit her sometime" she said casually. 

Sonarika looked toward the distant corner house beyond the trees.

Reshma.

A name from a life that felt like another era. Maybe this meeting was inevitable. Maybe healing didn’t just mean fixing the present. Sometimes it meant making peace with the past too. And this time, Sonarika felt ready to face it.


Sonarika stood for a moment outside the modest cream-colored house at the corner of the lane. The gate was partly open, and she could see a small porch with potted plants lined neatly along the railing. The house looked warm and lived-in, very different from the quiet mystery it had seemed earlier that day.

She took a slow breath and rang the doorbell.

Footsteps approached from inside.

The door opened.

Reshma stood there, exactly as Sonarika remembered from a few hours earlier—eyes wide with surprise, her expression frozen in disbelief for a brief second.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

Then Sonarika smiled gently.

"I’m sorry, I really should have recognized you earlier" she said softly. 

Reshma blinked, as if waking from a trance. The shock slowly melted away and her lips curved into a hesitant but genuine smile.

"It’s been… what… fifteen years?" she said.

"Something like that" Sonarika replied.

Reshma stepped aside and opened the door wider.

"Come in"

The living room felt cozy and warm. A beige sofa set faced a wooden center table, and a television murmured quietly in the background. The walls were decorated with framed photographs, most of them family portraits.

Sonarika’s eyes paused on one frame in particular.

It showed Reshma standing beside a man with kind eyes and two smiling children—an older boy and a little girl.

"They’re beautiful" Sonarika said sincerely.

Reshma followed her gaze and smiled proudly.

"That’s my husband, Suresh" she said. 

"And the kids—Arjun and Poonam"

"Lovely names" Sonarika said.

Reshma sat down across from her.

"Suresh works at a government institution. Administrative department" she explained. 

"He’s usually busy, but he’ll be home later"

Sonarika leaned slightly forward to look closer at the photograph.

"Arjun must be… what… eight?"

"Nine" Reshma replied.

Sonarika chuckled softly.

"That means he’s about a year older than my son Karan"

Reshma’s eyebrows lifted.

"You have a son?"

"Yes" Sonarika said with a small smile.

For a while the conversation drifted naturally into old memories.

They spoke about college days, the endless practice sessions for cultural events, the excitement of annual functions.

"Do you remember how we used to dominate the dance competitions?" Reshma laughed.

Sonarika grinned.

"We were the cultural program"

"That’s true, if we weren’t performing, the audience would lose interest" 

Reshma said with mock pride. They both laughed. Reshma leaned back in her chair, eyes sparkling with nostalgia.

"And poor Ranvijay" she added suddenly. 

"He was so hopelessly smitten with you"

Sonarika raised an eyebrow.

"Oh God" she groaned. 

"Don’t remind me"

Reshma laughed again but then added casually—

"Honestly, I always felt bad for him. He never knew you and I were actually—"

She stopped abruptly.

The sentence hung unfinished in the air. The awkwardness arrived instantly. Reshma’s eyes widened slightly as she realized what she had almost revealed aloud. For a brief moment, silence filled the room. Sonarika broke it gently.

"It was a long time ago" she said calmly. 

"And clearly we both moved on"

Reshma studied her face carefully, trying to read her reaction. Sonarika gave a small, reassuring smile.

"Honestly" she continued, 

"Those silly teenage adventures… they were part of growing up. We were curious, confused… figuring ourselves out"

Reshma’s shoulders relaxed slightly.

"I guess that’s true" she said quietly.

Then after a small pause she admitted softly,

"I’m actually glad… that my first time experiencing something like that was with you"

Sonarika laughed lightly.

"Well technically" she said teasingly. 

"We didn’t really have a first time. There was no… you know"

Reshma burst into embarrassed laughter.

"That’s true" she admitted.

Her expression then shifted to curiosity.

"I was shocked when I heard you started dating Rocky after college"

Sonarika’s smile faded just slightly.

"That was… a dark chapter" she said honestly. 

"One I’d rather leave behind"

She paused for a moment before adding quietly,

"Honestly, if I think about it now… I’d rather consider our teenage phase as my first intimacy in this lifetime. It feels healthier than remembering Rocky"

Reshma nodded slowly, understanding the weight behind those words.

The conversation shifted again after that.

"So, tell me about your husband" Reshma asked gently, 

Sonarika hesitated for a split second. The truth sat painfully at the edge of her mind—the broken marriage, the distance, the uncertainty. But she chose not to open that wound here.

Not today.

"His name is Hemant Kumar...he used to work as a project manager at an IT firm called Quadron" 

She said calmly. Reshma’s eyes widened slightly.

"Wait… Hemant Kumar?"

Sonarika nodded.

"He left the company a few years ago. Now he runs his own company—YOD Industries"

Reshma leaned forward.

"I know that name! I’ve seen articles about it in business news"

Sonarika gave a modest smile.

"It’s growing faster than anyone expected"

"Wow...That’s impressive" Reshma said sincerely. 

The afternoon sunlight had begun to shift toward evening.

Sonarika glanced at the clock and slowly stood up.

"I should head back" she said.

Reshma walked her to the door. It felt strange and comforting at the same time—reconnecting after so many years, confronting a piece of the past they had both quietly buried.

"Come again" Reshma said warmly.

"I will" Sonarika replied.

They shared one last smile before Sonarika stepped out into the lane. As she walked back toward her parents’ house, the cool Delhi breeze brushed gently across her face. The conversation replayed softly in her mind.

Memories.

Mistakes.

Old emotions resurfacing and settling again. For the first time in a long while, she felt something close to peace. Her past wasn’t something she could erase. It was filled with impulsive choices, broken relationships, and painful consequences. But meeting Reshma had reminded her of something important. Mistakes didn’t have to define the future. They could become lessons instead. As the familiar gates of the Sharma bungalow appeared ahead, Sonarika felt lighter than she had that morning. She couldn’t undo what she had done. But she could rebuild herself. And this time, she intended to do better

                                                                                                                   (TO BE CONTD)

[Harry Jordan]

                                                                                                                  (CHAPTER CONTD)          

The next few days passed with an unfamiliar calm settling over Sonarika’s life.

The mornings in the Janakpuri bungalow began with sunlight pouring across the backyard lawn where she had started building her small garden. The soil there had begun to soften under her constant care, and neat rows of saplings now stood where there had once been plain grass. Basil, jasmine, hibiscus, and a handful of medicinal herbs were already taking root.

Working with the plants brought her a quiet satisfaction she hadn’t felt in years.

Sometimes she would kneel there with her hands in the soil for hours, gently loosening the earth around a root or adjusting the spacing between saplings. The scent of damp mud and leaves filled the air, grounding her thoughts. Not far away, chaos usually unfolded on the lawn. Anjali had taken it upon herself to teach Karan how to play volleyball. The idea had sounded simple at first. In reality it became a daily comedy of missed serves, exaggerated dives, and loud arguments about rules that neither of them fully understood.

"Anju didi, you cheated!"

"I didn’t cheat! That was a perfect serve!"

"That ball went outside!"

"You don’t even know where the line is!"

Sonarika often paused her gardening just to watch them. Karan would run wildly across the grass trying to hit the ball, while Anjali attempted to demonstrate techniques she herself had barely mastered. Every now and then the ball would fly straight into one of Sonarika’s plant pots.

"Careful!" she would shout.

"Sorry!" they would yell together before bursting into laughter.

Watching them filled her with warmth. Two innocent souls playing freely in the sunlight, completely unaware of the fragile cracks hidden beneath the surface of their family. They didn’t know that the world around them was quietly shifting. They didn’t know that her marriage was slowly dissolving. And part of her was grateful for that innocence. In the evenings she sometimes took Karan and Anjali to the nearby park. It had a walking path lined with tall trees and a small play area where children gathered every evening. Karan loved the place. He would run straight to the swings or chase other kids across the grass, his laughter echoing through the park.

Sonarika often sat on a bench nearby watching him. The joy on his face made everything else fade for a while. For those moments she was simply a mother watching her child grow. Nothing more complicated than that. One evening, as the sun dipped below the trees, her phone buzzed. It was Neha.

"I wanna go out....shall we get together for some night cap?" Neha asked over the call. 

Sonarika hesitated for a second before smiling.

"Why not?"

Since the place Neha suggested was close to the neighborhood, Sonarika left Karan at home with Anjali.

"Make sure he calls his Papa before sleeping" she told her sister while handing over her phone. 

Anjali nodded.

"Okay Didi"

With that reassurance, Sonarika left the house and met Neha outside a lively pub not far from the main market road. Inside, music pulsed through the dimly lit hall while colored lights swept across the dance floor. The atmosphere was vibrant, full of laughter and movement. It had been a long time since Sonarika had stepped into a place like this. At first she felt slightly out of place. But Neha pulled her onto the dance floor.

"Just to be clear....there won't be any therapy....only friend things!" Neha laughed.

They danced for a while, letting the music carry them. Later they sat at a high table with a couple of drinks, the conversation slowly drifting into more personal territory. At some point Sonarika mentioned her reunion with Reshma. Neha listened carefully. Then Sonarika revealed something she hadn’t told many people before.

"We were… intimate" she said calmly.

Neha’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"With another woman?"

Sonarika nodded.

"It was during our teenage years. Exploration more than anything"

Neha leaned back slightly, thinking.

"Then why didn’t you ever have those feelings toward Meghna?" she asked. 

"She was openly bisexual even back then"

Sonarika smiled faintly.

"I didn’t know that at the time. I only learned about Meghna’s bisexuality later… after I had started dating Rocky"

She took a small sip of her drink.

"And honestly, my thing with Reshma wasn’t about orientation. It was curiosity. We were teenagers discovering things about ourselves"

Neha nodded slowly.

"That makes sense"

They sat in silence for a moment before Neha spoke again.

"You really are healing" she said.

Sonarika gave a small smile.

"I feel that way too"

But Neha’s expression turned thoughtful.

"Still… you should also prepare yourself for something"

Sonarika frowned slightly.

"What?"

Neha looked at her carefully before answering.

"A future without Hemant"

The words felt unexpectedly heavy. Sonarika blinked.

"Why would you say that?"

Neha sighed quietly.

"Ragini mentioned something to me. There are rumors circulating in certain business circles"

"What rumors?"

Neha hesitated before saying the name.

"That Hemant has changed.....he has been getting very close with Pranitha Mehta"

Sonarika’s mind immediately recognized it.

Pranitha Mehta.

A powerful member of the Mehta family—the owners of RegalCorp, one of the largest corporate empires in the country. Years ago, when Hemant had worked at Quadron, he had been involved in managing the setup of Pranitha’s multi-speciality hospital project in Mumbai. She remembered that project well.

Now Neha continued.

"People are talking about how close Hemant has become with her recently. And that closeness has paved the way for him to welcome a different lifestyle"

"What kind of lifestyle?"

"You know....the lifestyle of hookups and flings....some close rumors is that Pranitha follows a very open lifestyle as she has hooked up with film stars....and she is apparently giving Hemant a taste of that pleasure!"

Sonarika stared quietly at the table.

"If that’s true....then Hemant will be a way different person than you knews in your time with him" 

Neha added carefully. The thought settled uncomfortably in Sonarika’s mind. It would make sense. Hemant is more than broken , he has been a betrayed man in their relationship. In a way her actions might've caused doubts in his character and manhood to the point he would stray to these kinds of flings.

Later that night, Sonarika walked home alone through the quiet neighborhood streets. Neha’s words echoed repeatedly in her thoughts. A future without Hemant. He may already be moving on. When she reached the bungalow, the house was silent. Anjali had fallen asleep on the couch with a blanket over her shoulders. Karan was curled up beside her, one arm around a pillow. Her parents’ bedroom lights were off. Sonarika quietly covered them with another blanket before heading to her room. A message notification blinked on her laptop screen. It was from Neha.

A news link.

Sonarika opened it slowly. The article headline flashed across the screen:

'YOD Industries in Strategic Partnership Talks with RegalCorp'

The article mentioned discussions between Hemant’s company and the Mehta corporate group regarding future expansion projects. Sonarika read the lines again and again. Her chest tightened. Because she understood something the article didn’t explicitly say. If YOD Industries and RegalCorp were aligning this closely…Hemant’s world was evolving into something far bigger than the life they had once shared. A world she might no longer belong to. The realization hit her quietly but deeply. Sitting alone in the dim light of her room, Sonarika closed the laptop and pressed her palms over her eyes.

For days she had felt hopeful, optimistic about rebuilding herself. But this news reopened a wound she thought she had begun to heal. The man she still loved might already be walking toward a completely different future. One that didn’t include her. Tears slowly slipped down her cheeks as she sat there in silence. She didn’t wake anyone. She didn’t make a sound. She simply allowed herself to cry quietly into the night, releasing the pain she could no longer hold back.

Because sometimes healing meant facing the hardest truth of all—that the person you love most might already be drifting beyond your reach.

Sonarika's consciousness swam upward through layers of warm, clinging sleep, not toward light, but toward a feeling. It was a low, throbbing pulse that seemed to originate from her core and radiate outwards, making every nerve ending hum. Her breaths were shallow, rapid puffs against her pillow. A soft, needy sound escaped her lips—her own moan, she realized distantly. What…?

Her hips gave a small, involuntary roll, pushing into a delicious, wet warmth. Oh. Sensation crystallized into understanding. That was a mouth. That was a tongue. There.

She forced her heavy eyelids open, the world a bleary, morning-gray blur. The duvet was pushed down to her waist. She was naked from the waist down. And there, between her splayed thighs, was the familiar, beloved shape of her husband’s head, his dark hair tousled from sleep. Hemant.

His face was buried in her, his broad shoulders shifting as he worked. A long, slow, luxurious lick from her entrance all the way up to her clit made her back arch off the mattress with a sharp gasp. The motion woke her fully, the grogginess burned away by pure, electric pleasure.

He felt her tense, her awakening. He pulled back just enough to glance up, his lips glistening with her arousal. His eyes, dark and intense, held a mix of hunger and a soft apology. 

"I am sorry" he murmured, his voice a husky rasp against her inner thigh. 

"And good morning"

The fight. Right. The vague memory of raised voices, a slamming door, the cold silence in bed last night surfaced and then dissolved, meaningless against the heat of his mouth. She couldn’t even remember what it was about. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except the aching emptiness he was so expertly filling.

She felt the lace of her panties—she’d fallen asleep in them—stretched and pushed aside, a frustrating barrier. With a urgency that surprised her, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband. She breathed, lifting her hips. He helped, pulling the flimsy garment down her legs and tossing it aside without breaking contact, his mouth finding her again immediately. This time, skin to skin.

Oh God. His tongue was flat and firm, painting slow, maddening circles around her clit before zeroing in with pinpoint precision. One of his hands came up to cradle her hip, his thumb digging into the soft flesh, holding her in place for his feast. The other hand slid beneath her, fingers splaying over the curve of her ass, pulling her more firmly onto his mouth.

"Aahhh, Hemant…" 

She moaned, her head falling back, fingers tangling in his hair. Not to guide, but to anchor herself. 

"You… you always find my spot so easily"

He groaned against her, the vibration shooting straight to her womb. He lifted his head for just a second, his breath hot on her soaked skin. 

"You are my woman" he stated, as if it were the simplest, most fundamental truth. 

"It is my only ambition" 

Then he dove back in, his tongue spearing into her this time, fucking her with it shallowly, mimicking the act she already craved. It was relentless, worshipful, needy. He was reading her body like a favorite book, each twitch, each gasp, each clench of her inner muscles guiding him. The coil in her lower belly wound tighter and tighter, a spring of pure pleasure threatening to snap. But she didn’t want it like this. Not this time.

With a force of will that shuddered through her, she pushed at his shoulders. 

"Stop. Hemant, stop"

He pulled away instantly, his face flushed, eyes questioning and dark with concern. 

"Did I hurt—?"

"No" she cut him off, her chest heaving. 

"I need you inside me. Now"

The look that crossed his face was pure, undiluted male satisfaction. He moved up her body, kissing her stomach, the valley between her breasts, then her lips, letting her taste herself on him. It was salty, musky, hers. He knelt between her legs, shoving his own underwear down just enough to free his cock. He was already so hard, the tip flushed and leaking. He kept his simple white tank top on.

He rubbed the broad head through her slick folds, gathering moisture, teasing her entrance. Sonarika bit her lip, her hips lifting, seeking. “Please.”

With one smooth, deep push, he filled her. A shared, guttural groan filled the space between them. He didn’t move immediately, just stayed buried to the hilt, letting her adjust, letting them both feel the perfect, stretching fullness. Then he began to move.

It wasn’t a hard, frantic pounding. It was a slow, deep, deliberate rhythm. In… and out… and in. Each stroke dragged against every sensitive nerve inside her. His eyes never left hers. That was what undid her more than anything. The unbroken eye contact. In the dim morning light, she could see every fleck in his brown irises, see the dilation of his pupils, see the raw affection and heat there. Their breaths synced, puffing against each other’s faces. This wasn’t just sex; it was a conversation, a reconnection, a silent apology and acceptance spoken with hips and heartbeats.

A distant, thrill-seeking part of her usually craved the mindless, rough fucking that wiped her thoughts clean. But this… this was better. This built a different kind of fire, a deep, glowing ember that heated her from the inside out.

She realized he hadn’t tried to remove her shirt—a simple, faded cotton sleep tee. He loved watching her body, loved seeing her breasts bounce, loved tracing her abs. But his hands stayed on her hips, his focus entirely on her face, on the joining of their bodies.

"Ahh....ahhh....Why?" she whispered, her voice thick. 

"Ahh....You didn’t ask for the shirt....ahhhh"

He thrust deep and held it, grinding his pelvis against her clit. 

"This morning...uhh...uhhh" he panted. 

"uhh....uhhh....is for you. Not for me....mhmmm"

That was her Hemant. Her perfect, infuriating, thoughtful husband. She shook her head, emotion welling in her throat. She clenched around him, making him gasp. 

"Wrong....It’s for us"

Before he could argue, she wrapped her legs around his waist and rolled them. He followed her lead, a masterful dancer in this intimate waltz, until she was straddling him, his cock still seated deeply within her. The new angle made her see stars. Now she was in control.

She sat up, her hands going to the hem of her shirt. She pulled it off in one fluid motion, tossing it aside, letting the cool morning air kiss her skin. Her breasts, full and heavy, swayed with the motion. Hemant’s gaze dropped, his hands coming up to cradle their weight, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. A low, appreciative groan rumbled from his chest.

"My god, Sona" he breathed, mesmerized. 

"You are… a vision"

She began to move, riding him with slow, rising intensity. She watched his face, watched his eyes darken as he watched her body—the jiggle of her breasts, the taut shift of her stomach muscles, the glide of her body on his. She felt powerful, desired, loved.

His rhythm began to falter, his thrusts becoming more urgent from beneath her. 

"Sona… I’m getting close" he warned, his hands tightening on her hips.

"So am I" she moaned, the tension coiling impossibly tight. 

"Together. We cum together"

He nodded, his control snapping. He drove up into her, hard and deep, once, twice, three times.

"Now  Sona now!!!!"

It was all the permission she needed. The world shattered into blinding white light. Her climax ripped through her, a seismic wave of pleasure that clenched her entire body. Her inner muscles spasmed around his cock in rapid, pulsing waves, milking him. With a choked shout, he followed her over, his own release surging hot and deep inside her as he bucked beneath her. She collapsed forward, sealing her mouth over his, kissing him fiercely, swallowing his groans and muffling her own keening cries, a desperate, silent pact to keep their ecstasy from waking their son in the far room.

They floated down together, spent and tangled, their hearts hammering a frantic, synchronized beat against each other’s chests. As the last aftershocks trembled through her, Sonarika let out a breathless giggle against his sweat-damp neck.

"You always know how to end an argument" she whispered, 

"I just know what makes my wife happy" 

He turned his head, kissing her temple, his arms tightening around her. She nestled into him, breathing in his scent—sleep, sex, and him—a perfect, contented stillness settling in her soul. This was her life. This was her love.

The stillness shattered.

The scent changed. It was no longer Hemant and sex and their bedroom. It was stale air, and a faint hint of her mother’s rose talcum powder.

Sonarika’s eyes flew open.

Not to her bedroom ceiling, but to the familiar, endured , pale painted bedroom in her maternal home in Janakpuri. The gray light was the same, but it was cold, empty. The weight on her body was just a heavy, solitary duvet. The warmth between her legs was a phantom echo, already fading into a dull, aching emptiness.

Her hand flew to her mouth, still feeling the ghost of his kiss, the taste of him—of them—still on her tongue. A full-body tremor wracked her. A dream. It was all a dream.

The vividness of it—the feel of his stubble against her inner thighs, the exact pressure of his hands, the depth of his gaze—flooded back with cruel, exquisite clarity. A moment shared between husband and wife. A moment that no longer existed.

Now, the only thing missing was him. Hemant was a memory. A ghost in her sheets. The perfect, intimate love he'd just shown her in the dream was a haunting of what she had destroyed.

She lay perfectly still in the vast, empty bed, the silence of the lonely room pressing in on her, a tangible, suffocating thing. The pleasure of the dream curdled into a profound, hollow loss that settled deep in her bones. She had traded this… this everything… for nothing.

The memory faded as Sonarika opened her eyes. The ceiling of her childhood bedroom replaced the past. Reality settled over her slowly. Those moments with Hemant were no longer part of her present. They had become echoes—beautiful, painful echoes that now returned mostly in dreams. She closed her eyes briefly, letting the sadness pass through her rather than fighting it. After a while she got up and walked to the backyard.

The small garden she had been building was beginning to take shape. The saplings stood in neat rows, their leaves catching the morning sun. Kneeling beside them, Sonarika began loosening the soil around a jasmine plant.

Gardening had become her quiet therapy.

The rhythm of tending plants allowed her mind to settle. But even today, the lingering emotion from the dream tugged gently at her thoughts. She pressed the soil firmly around the roots, exhaling slowly.Just then, her phone rang.

The name on the screen made her freeze.

Vikram.

For a few seconds she stared at it before answering.

"Hello?"

"Sonarika"

His voice sounded different from what she remembered. Softer. Tired.

"What do you want, Vikram?" she said calmly. 

"You know there’s no point chasing me after everything"

"I’m not chasing you" he replied quietly. 

"I need your help"

That made her pause. He explained that he was in Delhi for official work and asked if they could meet briefly. Reluctantly, Sonarika agreed. They met at a quiet restaurant later that afternoon. When Vikram walked in, he looked much the same as before—wearing a simple cream-colored shirt and black slacks, his posture confident, his presence naturally commanding attention. Once, that presence had drawn Sonarika toward him like gravity.

Even now, there were brief moments when she felt that familiar pull. But the thought of Hemant rose immediately afterward, like a silent reminder of the consequences of that attraction. Today, however, something about Vikram felt different. He looked… worn down. The usual spark in his eyes seemed dim. After they ordered coffee, he spoke slowly.

"Maybe I’m also getting punished" he said.

Sonarika frowned slightly.

"What do you mean?"

He rubbed his forehead before answering.

"My sister… Anjana"

The name immediately brought back a memory. Sonarika had met her once years ago in Jabalpur. Anjana had been cheerful, warm, welcoming.

"What about her?" Sonarika asked quietly.

Vikram looked down at the table.

"Her husband Ritesh… died last week"

Sonarika felt the shock ripple through her.

"A car crash" he added.

For a moment she couldn’t speak.

She remembered Anjana’s smiling face, the way she had spoken about her family with pride.

"She must be devastated" Sonarika whispered.

Vikram nodded slowly.

"The funeral happened last week. I couldn’t go"

"Why?"

He sighed deeply.

"Because Ritesh wasn’t just my brother-in-law. He was like a real brother to me"

His voice wavered slightly.

"And now I don’t know how to face them. I don’t know how to face the house without him there"

Sonarika studied him carefully.

This wasn’t the confident Vikram she had known.

This was a man struggling with grief.

"I want to go" he said quietly. 

"But I don’t have the strength to do it alone"

He looked directly at her.

"I need you to come with me"

Sonarika blinked.

"What?"

"It’s not what you think" he added quickly. 

"This isn’t about us. There’s nothing romantic about it"

He leaned forward slightly.

"You’re the only person I trust enough to ask. I just need someone beside me so I don’t fall apart in front of them"

The sincerity in his voice surprised her. For several seconds she remained silent, weighing the situation. Her first instinct had been to refuse. After everything that had happened between them, reopening any connection felt dangerous. But the thought of Anjana changed something. She remembered the kindness that woman had shown her years ago. If Anjana had lost her husband so suddenly, the pain she must be facing would be unimaginable.

"When?" Sonarika finally asked.

"Tomorrow" Vikram said. 

"I’ll drive. We’ll go early and return before sunset. I promise I’ll drop you home the same day"

She studied his face one more time. This wasn’t manipulation. It was grief. Finally she nodded.

"Alright"

The relief on Vikram’s face was immediate.

"Thank you" he said quietly.

As they left the restaurant later, Sonarika walked toward her car with a thoughtful expression. Her life had become complicated in ways she had never imagined. Yet in that moment she realized something simple. People were still turning to her in moments of need. Despite her mistakes, despite the broken pieces of her past, someone still believed she could be a source of strength. And perhaps helping someone through their grief was also part of her own healing. Tomorrow would be difficult. But she felt certain about one thing. Sometimes the right path forward wasn’t about escaping the past. It was about showing up for others when they needed you most.

                                                                                                          (TO BE CONTD)