Family of Shaows

[sexonmind]

Part 2 of chapter 4


What Babu didn’t know was that Aruna, too, was talking to Purushotham—more often than he imagined. Their conversations were different, wrapped in a strange blend of secrecy. Late at night, when the world quieted, Aruna would call him. Her tone was soft, almost wistful, as if they were old friends reminiscing about a memory they weren’t supposed to share.

"Purushotham," she would say, her voice carrying a gentle warmth, "that night… I think of it as a sweet memory, nothing more. I’m not ready for marriage, and I can’t tell Babu that. He wouldn’t understand."

On the other end, Purushotham would sigh, relief and discomfort mingling in his voice. "I know. He brings it up almost every time we talk. I try to change the subject, but he’s persistent."
Aruna chuckled softly. "He’s always been stubborn. But you have to keep avoiding it. Don’t let him pressure you. I’ll handle him."

There was a pause, then Purushotham spoke carefully. "Are you sure about this? What if he finds out we’re still talking?"

"He won’t," Aruna reassured him. "I’ve made sure of that. And even if he does, I’ll manage. He doesn’t need to know everything."

Her tone shifted, turning more serious. "I don’t want anyone else to know about that night. It’s ours and ours alone. Let it stay that way."

Purushotham exhaled, the weight of the secrecy settling between them. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Neither did I," Aruna admitted, her voice soft but resolute. "But it did, and now we have to be careful. Just keep things as they are. Don’t let him see through you."

As the calls ended, Aruna would sit in the quiet of her room, the weight of her decisions pressing down on her. She had no intention of marrying Purushotham, but she couldn’t let Babu know. It was a delicate balance she had to maintain, ensuring that her secret remained buried while keeping Babu from pushing too hard.

For now, she thought, everything was under control. But how long could she keep it that way?

It was a lazy Sunday morning when Sai wandered into the bustling market place, drawn by the scent of fresh spices and the chatter of vendors. As he navigated through the crowded stalls, his eyes fell on a familiar figure—Rani, clutching a basket filled with vegetables and fish, her face partially hidden by the edge of her saree. Surprised, Sai approached her with a grin.

"Rani! What a surprise. What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone light. "And why haven’t you been coming to the office lately? You used to bring lunch for madam every day."

Rani’s smile wavered, and she glanced around nervously before responding. "Oh, Sai… Yes, I used to, but things have changed a bit. Madam asked Srinu to pick up her lunch now."

Sai raised an eyebrow. "Why the sudden change?"

Rani hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her saree. "Well, you see… I can’t leave the quarters unattended. Aruna madam is living with us, and she might need me at any time."

Her voice was steady, but Sai noticed the subtle tremor in her hands and the way she avoided meeting his gaze. It wasn’t like Rani to be so evasive, and her explanation felt thin, as if hastily assembled.

"That’s odd," Sai remarked casually, tilting his head. "I thought Aruna madam could manage on her own. She’s not exactly helpless, is she?"

Rani let out a nervous laugh, the sound forced and unnatural. "Of course not! But… it’s just better if I’m around, just in case."

Sai studied her closely, noting the way she shifted her weight from foot to foot, the uneasy glances she cast around. Rani was not used to lying—her body language betrayed her. She looked like someone caught in a web she didn’t know how to navigate.

"Hmm," Sai said, his tone thoughtful. "You’re always so loyal, Rani. I just hope everything’s alright back at the quarters."

"Oh, everything’s fine!" Rani said quickly, too quickly. "Nothing to worry about."

But Sai wasn’t convinced. He didn’t press further, though the seed of suspicion had been planted. As they exchanged brief pleasantries and parted ways, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off—something Rani wasn’t telling him.

As he watched her disappear into the crowd, Sai made a mental note. He would keep an eye on things. There was more to this than Rani was letting on, and he intended to find out what.

Later that day, curiosity gnawed at Sai, and he decided to seek answers. He found Srinu leaning against the office car, polishing it absentmindedly. The afternoon sun glinted off the vehicle’s shiny surface as Sai approached, hands tucked into his pockets.

"Srinu anna," Sai began casually, "I’ve been meaning to ask—why has Sunanda madam stopped sending Rani with the lunch? She always brought it herself. Now, you’re the one picking it up every day."

Srinu glanced up, wiping his hands on a cloth, and chuckled. "Oh, that wasn’t madam’s idea. It was Rani’s."

Sai frowned. "Rani’s? What do you mean?"

Srinu shrugged, leaning against the car. "One day, Rani came to me and said she couldn’t travel to the office anymore. She claimed she had to stay at the quarters because Aruna madam needed her there. She asked me to pick up the lunch instead."

Sai’s frown deepened. "And madam agreed to that?"

Srinu shook his head. "Madam didn’t say much about it. Honestly, she’s been so busy with work, I doubt she noticed. But Rani was insistent, said it was best for everyone if she stayed back. I thought it was odd, but you know Rani—she’s usually straightforward."

Sai nodded slowly, his mind racing. This confirmed what he had suspected earlier at the market. Rani’s behavior was indeed strange, and the fact that she had taken the initiative to stop coming to the office added another layer to the mystery.

"Did she say why Aruna madam needs her so much?" Sai asked, probing further.

Srinu shrugged again. "Not really. Just mentioned that Aruna madam might need help. I didn’t think much of it. Rani’s always been dedicated, so I assumed she was just being extra cautious."

Sai gave a thoughtful nod, masking the unease brewing inside him. "Thanks, Srinu. I appreciate it."

As he walked away, Sai’s mind whirled with questions. Why was Rani so determined to stay at the quarters? What was happening there that she felt the need to hide? One thing was clear—something wasn’t adding up.He wondered if he had hurt Rani in some way. He realized that during the conference tour, he had teased her a lot, and perhaps it had affected her more than he realized. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Late one evening, unable to shake his curiosity, Sai called Rani. Sai's heart raced as the phone rang on the other end. He hadn’t thought about the time, but now that he heard Rani’s voice, there was a hint of something he hadn’t expected—irritation.

"Do you ever think about when it’s a good time to call?" Rani snapped, her voice sharp and edged with frustration. "It’s late, Sai. Some of us have lives, you know?"

Sai flinched, the tone cutting through the line. He had always been close to Rani, but her anger felt unfamiliar, especially coming from someone so patient.

"I-I’m sorry, Rani. I didn’t mean to bother you," he stammered, but Rani didn’t let him finish.

"Well, you did," she continued, her voice trembling slightly with the weight of unspoken emotions. "And you’ve been doing it for days now. Constantly teasing, calling at odd hours. Can’t you see it’s starting to get to me? I’m not your punching bag for jokes.""Rani, I—" he began, but she cut him off again, her voice cold.

"Just think before you call next time. Goodnight, Sai." The line clicked dead.

Sai sat there for a moment, the reality of the conversation settling in. He had upset Rani, and worse, he thought maybe his teasing did make her uncomfortable. His thoughts swirled—what if she didn’t want to talk to him anymore?

What Sai didn't know is that just a few moments ago, Rani's bedroom, once a sacred sanctuary of passion and love, echoed with the mechanical grunts of duty rather than the symphony of desire. Her husband, Ashok, plunged into her with a rhythm that had been honed over the years, yet lacked the finesse of a maestro. His shoulders and arms tensed with each thrust, his manhood a mere instrument of necessity rather than a wand of pleasure. Rani's ample breasts jiggled with the tempo, her dark nipples standing erect like two sentinels yearning for attention. Her curvy figure, a landscape of feminine perfection, was painted with a sheen of sweat that glistened in the dim light of the room. Despite the initial spark of excitement kindled by Ashok's vigorous pace, the fire of her passion began to dwindle as she felt his climax approaching with the speed of a runaway train. His breath grew ragged, his movements more erratic, and before she could even whisper a protest, he emptied himself into her, a fleeting moment of bliss for him, leaving Rani with nothing but a lingering ache for more.

Rani lay there, her body still trembling slightly from the force of Ashok's release, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Despite the emptiness she felt in the wake of his climax, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for her husband. The lines etched into his handsome face spoke of countless sleepless nights and the weight of the world on his shoulders. His parents' medical bills had been a never-ending source of stress, the kind that seemed to multiply like a hydra's heads with every doctor's visit. Then there was his sister's wedding, a celebration that had turned into a financial black hole, sucking in every spare rupee they had. And their baby, their precious little bundle of joy, who had brought them so much happiness but also so much responsibility. Two years of endless diaper changes and midnight feedings had taken their toll on both of them. Yet, amidst all this turmoil, she still loved him fiercely, her heart swelling with a love that transcended the physical. Her own desires took a backseat to his needs, and she often found herself willing to endure their unsatisfying encounters, hoping that one day their passion would be rekindled like a flame kissed by a gentle breeze.
As Rani returned to her evening with Ashok, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for snapping at Sai, even though she knew he had meant no harm. But her life had become so much more complicated than she could have imagined.
Next evening when the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the government quarters. Sai stood near the gate, nerves twisting in his stomach. He had been so carefree, teasing Rani endlessly, but now he realized it had driven a wedge between them. He needed to fix this.
Rani approached, her steps slow and deliberate. Her usual vibrant energy was replaced by weariness. She stopped a few feet away, folding her arms.
"You wanted to talk?" she asked, her tone wary but not cold.
Sai took a breath. "Rani, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how much my teasing was bothering you. I thought it was harmless, but I see now it wasn’t. I never meant to hurt you."
Rani sighed, glancing down. "Sai, it’s not just the teasing. Yes, it frustrated me, but there’s more to it."
Sai frowned, confused. "More? I don’t understand."
She hesitated, as if weighing her words carefully. "I’ve been keeping something from you. I’ve been helping Babu… He asked me to keep an eye on Aruna and Purushotham."
Sai blinked, stunned. "What? Why would Babu ask you to do that? Purushotham sir has always been loyal to the family. Why would he think something’s wrong?"
Rani shook her head, frustration flickering in her eyes. "I don’t know. He didn’t explain everything. He just asked me to watch Aruna, to make sure nothing happens. I didn’t want to, Sai, but I couldn’t say no."
Sai stared at her, trying to process it. "So, you’ve been spying on her? That sounds… extreme."
"I don’t understand it either," Rani admitted, her voice low. "I trust Babu, though, and if he’s worried, then I’m worried. But it’s been exhausting, Sai. I’m constantly watching, constantly on edge. That’s why I’ve been distant. It wasn’t just your teasing. It’s everything."
Sai felt a pang of guilt and concern. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You didn’t have to carry this alone."
Rani gave him a tired smile. "I couldn’t. I didn’t want anyone else involved. And you can’t tell anyone about this, Sai. Promise me."
Sai met her gaze, the weight of her request sinking in. "I promise I won’t tell anyone. But... Rani, this doesn’t sit right with me. I’ll keep your secret, but I need to find out what’s really going on. Something about this feels off."
Rani’s eyes softened, a mix of relief and worry. "Just be careful, Sai. Don’t make things worse."
"I will," Sai said, determination hardening in his voice. "I’ll be careful. And I’ll be here for you."
As they turned back toward the house, Sai’s mind raced. He had promised not to tell, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t seek answers. Something was wrong, and he intended to uncover the truth—no matter what it took.


End of Chapter 4.