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

[krish_999]

Chapter 50 continues...
 

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

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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

====xxxx====