09-03-2025, 12:08 AM
Chapter 31: Part 1: A Point of No Return
“So, back home,“ Namrata murmured, her voice softer than usual. She turned slightly toward Shipra, who sat by the window, gazing outside in a daze. The rolling countryside blurred past, but Shipra seemed to take no notice. Namrata, occupying the aisle seat beside her, forced a small smile, trying to inject some normalcy into the moment. Yet, the usual energy and playfulness in her tone were absent, weighed down by unspoken thoughts.
For the past half-hour, the two women had shared an uneasy silence. Neither had made an effort to fill the void between them. It was as though they had left something unspoken, something fragile hanging in the air since they boarded the bus.
Patode had insisted on arranging a car for them, but Shipra had politely declined. She wanted—needed—some semblance of normalcy, some control over her life again. She was tired of accepting favors, of feeling like a burden, like a woman being handled rather than one making her own choices. Sitting in this bus, amidst ordinary people going about their lives, was her way of reclaiming a piece of herself.
Shipra’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, caught between the chaos of the past few weeks and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. This rural posting and everything that followed had shifted something deep within her—her choices, her perspective, even her sense of self. She felt like an entirely different woman, especially after last night’s events. It all felt surreal, as if she were trapped in a dream. She could hardly believe the depths she had allowed herself to sink to. Whether it had changed her for better or worse, she still couldn’t say.
Namrata, too, was lost in her own reflections. She had accomplished what she had set out to do when she followed Shipra to that rural village. Her goal had always been clear—to open her friend’s eyes to a new world of sexual pleasure—and in that, she had succeeded. And yet… something didn’t feel right. Last night had left her with an uneasy feeling she couldn’t quite shake.
Casual hookups in the city were one thing. Men and women there were more open, more accustomed to fleeting encounters, to passion without permanence. There was a certain detachment, an understanding that sex did not have to mean anything more than the moment itself. But what had transpired between Shipra and Patode was not that.
There had been something raw, something almost dangerous, in Patode’s possession of Shipra. His dominance had been intense—borderline ruthless. It was as if he had claimed her, rather than merely shared a night with her. Namrata had watched from the sidelines, unsure whether to admire or worry.
Was it simply the fire of the moment? The primal surge of hormones and desire? Perhaps. And yet, the nagging unease refused to fade.
Was it because she was leaving Shipra behind, uncertain of what awaited her? Or was there something else beneath her concern—something more selfish? A tinge of jealousy, maybe?
Namrata exhaled, shaking the thought away. She refused to dwell on it. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t change anything now.
Forcing herself to lighten the mood, she shifted slightly in her seat and nudged Shipra’s arm. “Shipra, we need to talk,” Namrata spoke in a firm voice.
“I don’t want to Namrata,” Shipra replied nonchalantly as she kept staring outside the window without even bothering to turn toward Namrata.
But Namrata wasn’t about to let that happen. “We have to,” she insisted, placing a gentle hand on Shipra’s shoulder. “We can’t just part ways like this and pretend nothing happened. I know how you feel, Shipra… I—”
“No, you don’t, Namrata. And you never can,” Shipra cut her off sharply, turning to face her friend. Her voice was soft, but the weight behind her words was heavy. “You’re not a married woman. You’re not the one who has to go back and face her husband after an adulterous romp with a colleague. You don’t know what it’s like to justify your actions while staring at messages from a husband who’s suddenly playing the perfect partner.”
Namrata’s expression softened, but she didn’t back down. “You’re right,” she admitted quietly. “I can’t fully understand what the wife inside you is feeling. I’m sorry if my words seemed careless. It’s only natural that you feel conflicted, Shipra—but don’t forget one thing: This was your choice.”
She paused, letting her words linger in the air, watching as Shipra’s tense posture began to soften. Sensing an opening, she pressed on.
“And let’s not pretend you made that choice in a vacuum,” Namrata continued, her tone firm but supportive. “Your precious hubby—he may be sending you sweet, sugar-coated texts now, but what about the messages before? What about the neglect? The constant doubts? The way he dismissed your needs and treated your feelings like an afterthought? I’m not saying he doesn’t love you, Shipra. And I’m not saying you shouldn’t love him. But maybe it’s time to be honest with yourself about the reality of your situation.”
Shipra exhaled softly, the tightness in her chest loosening just a little as Namrata’s words began to take root.
“What happened in Ambruj stays in Ambruj,” Namrata added, her voice dropping to a more playful lilt, trying to break through the lingering heaviness. “Don’t let it haunt you or unravel the life you’ve built. What you should be thinking about now is how to strike a balance—a balance between the devoted, responsible wife who handles her duties flawlessly… and the wild, insatiable woman who lets her well-endowed lover screw her brains out under the open sky.”
A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of Namrata’s lips as she finished, hoping to coax at least a flicker of a smile from Shipra. “You can be both, you know. It’s just a matter of perspective.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, almost against her will, Shipra felt the corners of her mouth twitch as a little blush emanated on her cheeks. Namrata’s irreverent humor had a way of cutting through even the heaviest clouds. But beneath the teasing words lay a truth she couldn’t deny—whether she liked it or not, she had crossed a line. The question now was how to live with it.
“Leave that wild side of you in Ambruj and enjoy these few days with Aarav and Alok like a normal mother and wife,” Namrata said, her voice taking on a softer, almost coaxing tone. She leaned back slightly, relieved to see Shipra slowly warming up to her perspective. “I know it won’t be easy, but trust me, you’ll feel much more relaxed. And who knows? Maybe this little reset will help you reconnect with Alok.”
Shipra exhaled, pressing her lips together. “I guess you’re right,” she murmured, though the words lacked conviction. Her gaze drifted out the window again, as if seeking answers in the blurred scenery. “There’s no point in beating myself up. What’s done is done.” She hesitated, her fingers idly tracing the seam of her jeans. “I just hope my absence made Alok realize my value in his life. Maybe when I go back, things will have changed for the better.”
She shrugged her shoulders, as if trying to shake off the lingering doubts.
“That’s the spirit,” Namrata said, satisfied with Shipra’s response. “Sometimes, a little distance helps men get their shit together.”
Shipra nodded absently. “Yeah... I mean, may Aarav never fall sick again, but at least his illness gave me a much-needed break from Patode,” she admitted, rubbing her temple. “Last night was really… too much.”
Namrata let out a small chuckle, but there was something tight-lipped about it as if she were holding back a more unfiltered opinion. “Yeah, but I’m afraid that brute with his monster dick has already ruined you for Alok.” Her voice was light, teasing, but there was a flicker of something else beneath the words—perhaps concern, perhaps curiosity.
Shipra fell silent, staring down at her hands. She didn’t need Namrata to tell her that. She already knew.
After experiencing the raw, almost brutal intensity of Patode—the sheer size of him, the way he had pushed her body beyond its limits—she knew nothing else would ever compare.
But this wasn’t new for her.
She had been through this once before. When she married Alok, it had been right after her breakup with Viresh—a man with whom she had shared a fiercely passionate, almost obsessive, sexual relationship. And compared to that, Alok had never been enough. Not physically, at least.
But over time, she had learned that marriage wasn’t just about sex.
She had found a good man in Alok—someone stable, kind, and responsible. A man who accepted her past without judgment, who stood by her, who was the father of her precious son. And in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t that what really mattered? Wasn’t that enough?
She had told herself it was.
She had convinced herself that passion was something she could suppress. That the urges, the desires, the hunger for something more would eventually fade.
But they never had.
Her affair with Patode hadn’t been an accident. It had been brewing beneath the surface for a long time—an eruption of everything she had buried for years. Alok's growing indifference, Namrata’s subtle nudges, her cynical commentary on marriage, Patode’s relentless advances, his cunning manipulations, and perhaps even fate itself had all conspired to push her into his arms.
And now, there was no undoing it.
“Sooooo,” Namrata drawled playfully, elbowing Shipra with a conspiratorial wink. “If Alok fails to satisfy your loins—which, let’s be honest, he probably will—I have something for you.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “A little… souvenir from last night. A raunchy, downright scandalous video. Recorded on your phone. For your, um… private entertainment.”
Shipra’s breath hitched. Her head snapped toward Namrata, eyes widening in shock.
“You didn’t!” she gasped, her pulse quickening.
Namrata smirked. “Oh, but I did.”
Shipra’s hands flew to her bag, frantically rummaging for her phone. “Namrata, that’s so inappropriate!” she hissed, her fingers fumbling with the screen as she hurriedly scrolled through her files. Her heart pounded in her chest.
Had Namrata really recorded that? The sheer thought of it made her stomach twist in both panic and—if she was being completely honest—a strange, illicit thrill.
Namrata simply grinned, leaning back against her seat with an air of amusement. “Relax, babe,” she said breezily. “Consider it… a little reminder of what it feels like to really feel satisfied.”
Shipra swallowed hard, her fingers trembling as she searched.
She wasn’t sure what terrified her more—the possibility of its existence or the fact that a part of her hoped it did.
***********************************************
“Calm down, Salim bhai,” Patode said smoothly, leaning back in his chair, his fingers lazily tapping against the wooden armrest. “Have I ever gone back on my promise? It’s just a minor delay. The sluts will be back next week, and trust me, you’ll have your fill. You can enjoy those ripe bodies to your heart’s content, until you’re fully satisfied.” His voice was laced with reassurance, but there was an unmistakable undertone of control—he was the one pulling the strings here.
Across the desk, Salim wasn’t buying it. His thick brows furrowed, his fingers drumming against the polished wood with barely restrained frustration. “You’ve used me, Patode,” he snapped, his voice low but laced with anger. “You played on my weakness, made me do your bidding, and now you expect me to sit and wait?” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I should never have agreed to help you. I should cancel the whole damn—”
“The married one is quite submissive, Salim bhai.”
Patode’s voice sliced through the conversation, silencing the protest before it could fully take form. He took another slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling deliberately, watching as Salim’s expression flickered ever so slightly. The fire in his eyes dulled just a little, replaced by something else—curiosity.
“Yesterday,” Patode continued, his tone dropping into something almost intimate, like a man sharing a secret, “I fucked her in my lawn. Out in the open. Not a sound of protest. Just raw, unfiltered submission.” His lips curled slightly as he flicked the cigarette ash into a tray. “And I have no doubt she’s capable of much more.”
Salim’s fingers, which had been clenching into a fist, stilled. The tension in the room shifted, the charged hostility dissipating into something else—something darker.
The office fell into a thick silence, save for the distant hum of a ceiling fan and the occasional crackle of Patode’s cigarette.
Patode smirked, watching the way Salim’s frustration melted away, replaced by intrigue.
He had him yet again.
“Now that I have your attention, let's talk about the future course of action after Saad's tragic assassination,” Patode said, leaning forward with a sharp, focused gaze.
***********************************************
As Shipra reached for the taxi door handle, preparing to step out, Namrata’s voice stopped her.
“Shipra, one more thing before we part ways,” she said, her tone laced with concern.
Shipra turned back, her brows knitting slightly. “What is it?”
Namrata leaned toward the open window, lowering her voice as if wary of being overheard. “Please be careful with Patode when you head back,” she warned. “I know it’s probably nothing, but after what happened last night... I have a feeling he’s going to test your limits even more.”
Shipra let out a small sigh, her fingers tightening around the strap of her handbag. “I know, Namrata,” she admitted. “Things did go a little too far. But don’t worry, I’ll be cautious around him.” She forced a reassuring smile, though a flicker of unease passed through her eyes.
“And one more thing,” she murmured mischievously, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Try to use protection. Patode likes to do it bareback and will definitely push you to take pills instead of wearing one, but pills aren’t foolproof, and they’re not great for your health, either. Better grab a pack of extra-large ones before you head back.”
Shipra's eyes widened, and a flush of embarrassment crept up her cheeks. She shot Namrata a mock-angry glare, though the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
“Shut up, Namrata!” she hissed, swatting at her friend’s arm. “I know that already. Now get out of here before I regret sharing a taxi with you.”
Namrata chuckled, clearly pleased with herself. But despite her teasing, the concern in her eyes hadn’t faded. With a soft sigh, she nodded. “Alright, alright,” she relented. “I’ll try to be back as soon as I can. Just... stay in touch, okay?”
Shipra’s expression softened. She knew Namrata was only looking out for her. “I will,” she promised.
Namrata gave her one last reassuring smile before sinking back into her seat. As the taxi pulled away, Shipra stood outside her house, watching until it disappeared from sight. The playful moment faded, leaving behind the weight of reality. Taking a deep breath, she turned toward the house, her fingers tightening around her luggage as she braced herself for what awaited inside.
***********************************************
The heavy wooden door creaked open as Constable Jadhav stepped inside the Ambruj security officer Station, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He had just returned from a night patrol, expecting the usual slow morning where the officers lounged around, sipping tea and catching up on village gossip. But the atmosphere that greeted him was anything but ordinary.
The station, typically sluggish at this hour, buzzed with an unusual energy. Papers were being shuffled hurriedly, desks were being hastily arranged, and even the laziest officers seemed to be moving with an unprecedented sense of urgency. There was an air of tension—no, not just tension, but change. Something significant was about to happen.
Jadhav frowned and turned to his colleague, Head Constable Deshmukh, who was frantically straightening the stack of reports on his desk.
“सर्व गोंधळाचे काय आहे?”
“What’s with all this fuss?”
Jadhav asked, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and concern.
Deshmukh barely looked up, his hands busy aligning the cluttered files. “Haven’t you heard? Kodape Sir has been transferred. We’re getting a new SHO today,” he said, his voice tinged with both panic and disbelief.
Jadhav's brows knitted together. “What? Since when? There was no official communication. And Kodape Sir didn’t mention anything about a transfer!” His voice rose slightly, a reflection of the growing unease settling in his gut.
Deshmukh leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing some classified intelligence. “It all happened suddenly. Kodape Sir received his transfer orders just yesterday evening. No prior warning, nothing. And here’s the real shocker—” He paused for dramatic effect. “The new SHO is a woman.”
Jadhav blinked, certain he had misheard. “A woman? Here? In Ambruj?” He let out a disbelieving chuckle. “Come on, Deshmukh, someone’s pulling your leg. No one in their right mind would post a female officer in this place.” His laughter was laced with incredulity.
Deshmukh, however, did not join in the laughter. He looked around nervously and swallowed hard before whispering, “I swear, it's true. And from what I’ve heard about her, she’s not someone to take lightly.”
Before Patil could respond, a loud bang echoed through the room. The heavy station door swung open with force, silencing every conversation in the office. The casual chatter, the whispered speculations, the hurried preparations—everything stopped in an instant.
All heads turned as Senior Inspector Kodape stepped in, his usual authoritative demeanor intact, but there was something different about him today—an air of resignation, perhaps even nervousness. But it wasn’t just Kodape who had entered.
Beside him stood a woman, her presence commanding yet calm.
She was not what they had expected.
SHO Shrutika Arora had arrived.
***********************************************
“Mummmmyyyyy…,” Aarav’s frail voice wavered, barely more than a whisper. His tiny arms struggled to lift from the bed, reaching out, desperate for the comfort of his mother’s embrace. His excitement at seeing her was overshadowed by the weakness that had overtaken his little body, but his eyes sparkled with longing.
Shipra’s heart clenched at the sight of her son in such a fragile state. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she rushed to his bedside. She knelt down, gathering him into her arms, pressing him close as if she could transfer her strength to him through her touch. His body felt so light, so delicate, and the realization made her grip him even tighter.
“I’m here, my love… Mummy’s here,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She ran her fingers through his disheveled hair, pressing soft kisses on his warm forehead. “I will take care of you, my baby. You’ll be fine… I promise.”
Aarav nestled into her embrace, sighing softly, the comfort of his mother’s arms working better than any medicine.
Standing at the door, Alok’s mother observed the tender moment with a smile of quiet relief. Seeing her grandson wrapped in his mother’s love, she felt reassured that he would soon regain his strength.
“With you here, he’ll recover in no time,” she said warmly. “A mother’s love is the best cure. Don’t worry, Shipra.”
Shipra wiped her tears and turned toward her mother-in-law, her gratitude evident in her eyes. “Thank you, Ma, for being here with him. For taking care of everything in my absence,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alok’s mother lifted a gentle hand, waving off Shipra’s gratitude with a warm smile. “There’s no need to thank me, beta. This is what family is for,” she said, her voice filled with quiet reassurance.
Just then, Alok stepped into the room, his presence bringing a new warmth to the air. He looked at Shipra, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Good to have you back, Shipra,” he said, his tone calm but carrying an underlying emotion only she could recognize.
Shipra met his gaze, searching for the affection she longed for. Outwardly, his expression remained composed, restrained in the presence of his mother. But in his eyes, she saw the glint of love, relief, and something unspoken yet deeply familiar.
Sensing the moment, Alok’s mother placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she said knowingly before stepping out, giving them the privacy they needed.
Alok slowly made his way toward Shipra, his steps unhurried yet purposeful. As he reached her, he wrapped his arms around both Shipra and Aarav, pulling them into a firm, reassuring embrace. Shipra felt the warmth of his touch, the solid reassurance of his presence, and in that instant, every doubt, every unspoken complaint, and every trace of anger she had carried simply melted away.
Nothing else mattered. Not the past, not the misunderstandings, not the distance that had crept between them. All that existed in this moment was her child, her husband, and the unshakable bond of their family.
If it were up to her, she would stay like this forever—wrapped in their love, never letting go.
Shipra lifted her head slightly, her heart swelling with the desire to bridge the final gap between them. She searched his eyes for the same longing and leaned in, hoping for a deep, lingering kiss—a kiss that would reaffirm everything unspoken between them. A kiss that would reclaim her.
But instead, Alok pressed a soft peck on her lips, brief yet affectionate, before gently pulling away.
“We really missed you, Shipra,” he murmured, his voice laced with sincerity. His fingers brushed her arm as if reluctant to let go. “And I would love nothing more than to spend the whole day with you… but I have my mock test, and I need to leave.”
Shipra’s heart sank a little. She had expected—no, hoped—that he would stay longer, that they could steal some time for themselves after so long apart. A hint of disappointment flickered in her eyes as she met his gaze. “Can’t you skip it today, Alok?” she asked, her voice carrying a quiet plea.
Alok sighed, his hand coming up to cup her face gently. “I wish I could, Shipra, but the exams are just next month. I can’t afford to slack off, not even a little,” he explained, his tone apologetic yet firm. Then, sensing her lingering disappointment, he added, “But I promise, I’ll come home early. We’ll spend some time together, just us. I mean it.”
Although a part of her still wished he would stay but she knew how important his studies were. She let out a small sigh before offering him a soft, understanding smile.
“I understand,” she said, her voice gentle but filled with meaning. “I’ll be waiting.”
Alok gave her hand a small squeeze before pulling away, offering her one last lingering glance before turning toward the door.
Shipra watched Alok’s retreating figure, a storm of emotions swirling inside her. A part of her—the devoted wife, the woman who had once built her world around him—longed for more. She wanted him to pull her back, to hold her with the intensity of a man who had missed his wife beyond measure. She wanted him to kiss her deeply, passionately, making her forget everything that had happened over the last few weeks. She wished he would sense the distance between them and bridge it with love, with desire, with the kind of affection that would make her feel like nothing had changed.
But another part of her—the part buried beneath layers of guilt and secrecy—felt a strange relief. Alok’s brief affection and his hurried departure meant she didn’t have to face him just yet. She wasn’t sure how to meet his eyes without betraying the shame curling inside her. How to hold his hand without feeling the ghost of another man’s touch. How to lie to him, again and again, without letting the weight of her deception crush her completely.
The memories of her adulterous acts with Patode clung to her like an invisible stain, one that no amount of guilt or remorse could wash away. She had crossed a line, and there was no undoing it. Now, she found herself trapped in the impossible space between the woman she once was and the woman she had become.
She shook her head, forcing the thoughts away. For now, none of it mattered. Not the lies, not the guilt, not the gnawing fear of discovery.
Right now, she was here, holding Aarav in her arms. Her son—her little boy, innocent and oblivious to the turmoil within his mother. His warmth, his presence, was the only thing grounding her in this moment.
For now, that was enough.
Everything else… could wait.
***********************************************
Kodape leaned back in his old wooden chair, the worn-out creaks of the furniture blending with the quiet hum of the ceiling fan. His office, though modest, carried an air of authority, much like the man himself. With an easygoing posture, he observed the young officer sitting across from him, curiosity evident in his sharp gaze.
“Shrutika, if you don’t mind me asking,” he began, his voice carrying the weight of both experience and genuine intrigue, “why would a young, highly qualified officer like yourself choose a posting in such a difficult place?”
Shrutika’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. It wasn’t the first time she had heard this question, and she doubted it would be the last. People always seemed surprised—some, even skeptical—about her decision to be here.
Her fingers lightly traced the rim of the file resting on her lap as she met his gaze. “Why, Sir?” she asked, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Don’t you think female officers can handle tough postings?”
Kodape shifted slightly in his seat, momentarily caught off guard. He hadn’t expected such a direct response. “Oh no… that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, clearing his throat as he tried to regain his composure.
Shrutika remained silent, watching him with patient curiosity.
Leaning forward, Kodape rested his elbows on the desk, regaining his usual casual demeanor. “What I meant,” he clarified, “is that you’re exceptionally talented—a cybercrime expert, someone with immense potential to climb the ranks. Yet, you chose Ambruj. Let’s be honest, this isn’t exactly a stepping stone to lucrative postings. So, why are you really here?”
There was a hint of frustration in his tone, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her, as if trying to peel away the layers of her carefully composed exterior.
Shrutika held his gaze, her smile unwavering, but something unreadable flickered across her expression. She had expected this line of questioning—it was inevitable.
“You know, sir,” she began, her tone even, almost casual, “a woman working a desk job in this department is rarely taken seriously. No matter how hard she works, no matter what she achieves, there’s always a whisper behind her back—some source must have pulled strings for her, some favor must have been exchanged.” She paused, watching his reaction before continuing. “I had a great opportunity working with the big shots at the DGP office. But even if I had climbed the ranks there, my promotions would have been dismissed as favoritism. So, here I am, choosing to gain real field experience—on my own terms. And what better place to prove myself than a district as difficult as Ambruj?”
Her voice was calm, her body language poised and composed, radiating quiet confidence.
Kodape let out a slow breath, tapping his fingers on the desk. He wasn’t entirely convinced. There was something about her answer—perhaps too polished, too well-rehearsed—that made him suspect she wasn’t telling him the whole truth. But before he could push further, Shrutika’s next words caught him off guard.
“And you must be happy, shouldn’t you, Kodape sir?” she added smoothly, her tone laced with something almost playful. “Finally getting transferred from such a challenging place.”
Kodape stiffened, the amusement in her words not lost on him. He knew exactly what she was implying.
It was no secret that places like Ambruj—riddled with muscleman politicians, gangsters, and a thriving network of corruption—were a goldmine for those willing to look the other way. Being the SHO here wasn’t a punishment; it was an opportunity, one that came with countless under-the-table perks. And Kodape had made full use of it.
His transfer out of Ambruj wasn’t a victory—it was a financial setback. And he was well aware that Shrutika knew it.
His jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he forced a chuckle, masking his irritation. “Well, every posting has its own… challenges,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Let’s see how long your enthusiasm lasts, Shrutika. Ambruj isn’t as simple as cybercrime investigations from an air-conditioned office.”
Shrutika merely smiled, unfazed by his subtle jab. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we, Sir?” she replied smoothly.
Continued to next post....
“So, back home,“ Namrata murmured, her voice softer than usual. She turned slightly toward Shipra, who sat by the window, gazing outside in a daze. The rolling countryside blurred past, but Shipra seemed to take no notice. Namrata, occupying the aisle seat beside her, forced a small smile, trying to inject some normalcy into the moment. Yet, the usual energy and playfulness in her tone were absent, weighed down by unspoken thoughts.
For the past half-hour, the two women had shared an uneasy silence. Neither had made an effort to fill the void between them. It was as though they had left something unspoken, something fragile hanging in the air since they boarded the bus.
Patode had insisted on arranging a car for them, but Shipra had politely declined. She wanted—needed—some semblance of normalcy, some control over her life again. She was tired of accepting favors, of feeling like a burden, like a woman being handled rather than one making her own choices. Sitting in this bus, amidst ordinary people going about their lives, was her way of reclaiming a piece of herself.
Shipra’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, caught between the chaos of the past few weeks and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. This rural posting and everything that followed had shifted something deep within her—her choices, her perspective, even her sense of self. She felt like an entirely different woman, especially after last night’s events. It all felt surreal, as if she were trapped in a dream. She could hardly believe the depths she had allowed herself to sink to. Whether it had changed her for better or worse, she still couldn’t say.
Namrata, too, was lost in her own reflections. She had accomplished what she had set out to do when she followed Shipra to that rural village. Her goal had always been clear—to open her friend’s eyes to a new world of sexual pleasure—and in that, she had succeeded. And yet… something didn’t feel right. Last night had left her with an uneasy feeling she couldn’t quite shake.
Casual hookups in the city were one thing. Men and women there were more open, more accustomed to fleeting encounters, to passion without permanence. There was a certain detachment, an understanding that sex did not have to mean anything more than the moment itself. But what had transpired between Shipra and Patode was not that.
There had been something raw, something almost dangerous, in Patode’s possession of Shipra. His dominance had been intense—borderline ruthless. It was as if he had claimed her, rather than merely shared a night with her. Namrata had watched from the sidelines, unsure whether to admire or worry.
Was it simply the fire of the moment? The primal surge of hormones and desire? Perhaps. And yet, the nagging unease refused to fade.
Was it because she was leaving Shipra behind, uncertain of what awaited her? Or was there something else beneath her concern—something more selfish? A tinge of jealousy, maybe?
Namrata exhaled, shaking the thought away. She refused to dwell on it. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t change anything now.
Forcing herself to lighten the mood, she shifted slightly in her seat and nudged Shipra’s arm. “Shipra, we need to talk,” Namrata spoke in a firm voice.
“I don’t want to Namrata,” Shipra replied nonchalantly as she kept staring outside the window without even bothering to turn toward Namrata.
But Namrata wasn’t about to let that happen. “We have to,” she insisted, placing a gentle hand on Shipra’s shoulder. “We can’t just part ways like this and pretend nothing happened. I know how you feel, Shipra… I—”
“No, you don’t, Namrata. And you never can,” Shipra cut her off sharply, turning to face her friend. Her voice was soft, but the weight behind her words was heavy. “You’re not a married woman. You’re not the one who has to go back and face her husband after an adulterous romp with a colleague. You don’t know what it’s like to justify your actions while staring at messages from a husband who’s suddenly playing the perfect partner.”
Namrata’s expression softened, but she didn’t back down. “You’re right,” she admitted quietly. “I can’t fully understand what the wife inside you is feeling. I’m sorry if my words seemed careless. It’s only natural that you feel conflicted, Shipra—but don’t forget one thing: This was your choice.”
She paused, letting her words linger in the air, watching as Shipra’s tense posture began to soften. Sensing an opening, she pressed on.
“And let’s not pretend you made that choice in a vacuum,” Namrata continued, her tone firm but supportive. “Your precious hubby—he may be sending you sweet, sugar-coated texts now, but what about the messages before? What about the neglect? The constant doubts? The way he dismissed your needs and treated your feelings like an afterthought? I’m not saying he doesn’t love you, Shipra. And I’m not saying you shouldn’t love him. But maybe it’s time to be honest with yourself about the reality of your situation.”
Shipra exhaled softly, the tightness in her chest loosening just a little as Namrata’s words began to take root.
“What happened in Ambruj stays in Ambruj,” Namrata added, her voice dropping to a more playful lilt, trying to break through the lingering heaviness. “Don’t let it haunt you or unravel the life you’ve built. What you should be thinking about now is how to strike a balance—a balance between the devoted, responsible wife who handles her duties flawlessly… and the wild, insatiable woman who lets her well-endowed lover screw her brains out under the open sky.”
A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of Namrata’s lips as she finished, hoping to coax at least a flicker of a smile from Shipra. “You can be both, you know. It’s just a matter of perspective.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, almost against her will, Shipra felt the corners of her mouth twitch as a little blush emanated on her cheeks. Namrata’s irreverent humor had a way of cutting through even the heaviest clouds. But beneath the teasing words lay a truth she couldn’t deny—whether she liked it or not, she had crossed a line. The question now was how to live with it.
“Leave that wild side of you in Ambruj and enjoy these few days with Aarav and Alok like a normal mother and wife,” Namrata said, her voice taking on a softer, almost coaxing tone. She leaned back slightly, relieved to see Shipra slowly warming up to her perspective. “I know it won’t be easy, but trust me, you’ll feel much more relaxed. And who knows? Maybe this little reset will help you reconnect with Alok.”
Shipra exhaled, pressing her lips together. “I guess you’re right,” she murmured, though the words lacked conviction. Her gaze drifted out the window again, as if seeking answers in the blurred scenery. “There’s no point in beating myself up. What’s done is done.” She hesitated, her fingers idly tracing the seam of her jeans. “I just hope my absence made Alok realize my value in his life. Maybe when I go back, things will have changed for the better.”
She shrugged her shoulders, as if trying to shake off the lingering doubts.
“That’s the spirit,” Namrata said, satisfied with Shipra’s response. “Sometimes, a little distance helps men get their shit together.”
Shipra nodded absently. “Yeah... I mean, may Aarav never fall sick again, but at least his illness gave me a much-needed break from Patode,” she admitted, rubbing her temple. “Last night was really… too much.”
Namrata let out a small chuckle, but there was something tight-lipped about it as if she were holding back a more unfiltered opinion. “Yeah, but I’m afraid that brute with his monster dick has already ruined you for Alok.” Her voice was light, teasing, but there was a flicker of something else beneath the words—perhaps concern, perhaps curiosity.
Shipra fell silent, staring down at her hands. She didn’t need Namrata to tell her that. She already knew.
After experiencing the raw, almost brutal intensity of Patode—the sheer size of him, the way he had pushed her body beyond its limits—she knew nothing else would ever compare.
But this wasn’t new for her.
She had been through this once before. When she married Alok, it had been right after her breakup with Viresh—a man with whom she had shared a fiercely passionate, almost obsessive, sexual relationship. And compared to that, Alok had never been enough. Not physically, at least.
But over time, she had learned that marriage wasn’t just about sex.
She had found a good man in Alok—someone stable, kind, and responsible. A man who accepted her past without judgment, who stood by her, who was the father of her precious son. And in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t that what really mattered? Wasn’t that enough?
She had told herself it was.
She had convinced herself that passion was something she could suppress. That the urges, the desires, the hunger for something more would eventually fade.
But they never had.
Her affair with Patode hadn’t been an accident. It had been brewing beneath the surface for a long time—an eruption of everything she had buried for years. Alok's growing indifference, Namrata’s subtle nudges, her cynical commentary on marriage, Patode’s relentless advances, his cunning manipulations, and perhaps even fate itself had all conspired to push her into his arms.
And now, there was no undoing it.
“Sooooo,” Namrata drawled playfully, elbowing Shipra with a conspiratorial wink. “If Alok fails to satisfy your loins—which, let’s be honest, he probably will—I have something for you.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “A little… souvenir from last night. A raunchy, downright scandalous video. Recorded on your phone. For your, um… private entertainment.”
Shipra’s breath hitched. Her head snapped toward Namrata, eyes widening in shock.
“You didn’t!” she gasped, her pulse quickening.
Namrata smirked. “Oh, but I did.”
Shipra’s hands flew to her bag, frantically rummaging for her phone. “Namrata, that’s so inappropriate!” she hissed, her fingers fumbling with the screen as she hurriedly scrolled through her files. Her heart pounded in her chest.
Had Namrata really recorded that? The sheer thought of it made her stomach twist in both panic and—if she was being completely honest—a strange, illicit thrill.
Namrata simply grinned, leaning back against her seat with an air of amusement. “Relax, babe,” she said breezily. “Consider it… a little reminder of what it feels like to really feel satisfied.”
Shipra swallowed hard, her fingers trembling as she searched.
She wasn’t sure what terrified her more—the possibility of its existence or the fact that a part of her hoped it did.
***********************************************
“Calm down, Salim bhai,” Patode said smoothly, leaning back in his chair, his fingers lazily tapping against the wooden armrest. “Have I ever gone back on my promise? It’s just a minor delay. The sluts will be back next week, and trust me, you’ll have your fill. You can enjoy those ripe bodies to your heart’s content, until you’re fully satisfied.” His voice was laced with reassurance, but there was an unmistakable undertone of control—he was the one pulling the strings here.
Across the desk, Salim wasn’t buying it. His thick brows furrowed, his fingers drumming against the polished wood with barely restrained frustration. “You’ve used me, Patode,” he snapped, his voice low but laced with anger. “You played on my weakness, made me do your bidding, and now you expect me to sit and wait?” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I should never have agreed to help you. I should cancel the whole damn—”
“The married one is quite submissive, Salim bhai.”
Patode’s voice sliced through the conversation, silencing the protest before it could fully take form. He took another slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling deliberately, watching as Salim’s expression flickered ever so slightly. The fire in his eyes dulled just a little, replaced by something else—curiosity.
“Yesterday,” Patode continued, his tone dropping into something almost intimate, like a man sharing a secret, “I fucked her in my lawn. Out in the open. Not a sound of protest. Just raw, unfiltered submission.” His lips curled slightly as he flicked the cigarette ash into a tray. “And I have no doubt she’s capable of much more.”
Salim’s fingers, which had been clenching into a fist, stilled. The tension in the room shifted, the charged hostility dissipating into something else—something darker.
The office fell into a thick silence, save for the distant hum of a ceiling fan and the occasional crackle of Patode’s cigarette.
Patode smirked, watching the way Salim’s frustration melted away, replaced by intrigue.
He had him yet again.
“Now that I have your attention, let's talk about the future course of action after Saad's tragic assassination,” Patode said, leaning forward with a sharp, focused gaze.
***********************************************
As Shipra reached for the taxi door handle, preparing to step out, Namrata’s voice stopped her.
“Shipra, one more thing before we part ways,” she said, her tone laced with concern.
Shipra turned back, her brows knitting slightly. “What is it?”
Namrata leaned toward the open window, lowering her voice as if wary of being overheard. “Please be careful with Patode when you head back,” she warned. “I know it’s probably nothing, but after what happened last night... I have a feeling he’s going to test your limits even more.”
Shipra let out a small sigh, her fingers tightening around the strap of her handbag. “I know, Namrata,” she admitted. “Things did go a little too far. But don’t worry, I’ll be cautious around him.” She forced a reassuring smile, though a flicker of unease passed through her eyes.
“And one more thing,” she murmured mischievously, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Try to use protection. Patode likes to do it bareback and will definitely push you to take pills instead of wearing one, but pills aren’t foolproof, and they’re not great for your health, either. Better grab a pack of extra-large ones before you head back.”
Shipra's eyes widened, and a flush of embarrassment crept up her cheeks. She shot Namrata a mock-angry glare, though the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
“Shut up, Namrata!” she hissed, swatting at her friend’s arm. “I know that already. Now get out of here before I regret sharing a taxi with you.”
Namrata chuckled, clearly pleased with herself. But despite her teasing, the concern in her eyes hadn’t faded. With a soft sigh, she nodded. “Alright, alright,” she relented. “I’ll try to be back as soon as I can. Just... stay in touch, okay?”
Shipra’s expression softened. She knew Namrata was only looking out for her. “I will,” she promised.
Namrata gave her one last reassuring smile before sinking back into her seat. As the taxi pulled away, Shipra stood outside her house, watching until it disappeared from sight. The playful moment faded, leaving behind the weight of reality. Taking a deep breath, she turned toward the house, her fingers tightening around her luggage as she braced herself for what awaited inside.
***********************************************
The heavy wooden door creaked open as Constable Jadhav stepped inside the Ambruj security officer Station, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He had just returned from a night patrol, expecting the usual slow morning where the officers lounged around, sipping tea and catching up on village gossip. But the atmosphere that greeted him was anything but ordinary.
The station, typically sluggish at this hour, buzzed with an unusual energy. Papers were being shuffled hurriedly, desks were being hastily arranged, and even the laziest officers seemed to be moving with an unprecedented sense of urgency. There was an air of tension—no, not just tension, but change. Something significant was about to happen.
Jadhav frowned and turned to his colleague, Head Constable Deshmukh, who was frantically straightening the stack of reports on his desk.
“सर्व गोंधळाचे काय आहे?”
“What’s with all this fuss?”
Jadhav asked, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and concern.
Deshmukh barely looked up, his hands busy aligning the cluttered files. “Haven’t you heard? Kodape Sir has been transferred. We’re getting a new SHO today,” he said, his voice tinged with both panic and disbelief.
Jadhav's brows knitted together. “What? Since when? There was no official communication. And Kodape Sir didn’t mention anything about a transfer!” His voice rose slightly, a reflection of the growing unease settling in his gut.
Deshmukh leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing some classified intelligence. “It all happened suddenly. Kodape Sir received his transfer orders just yesterday evening. No prior warning, nothing. And here’s the real shocker—” He paused for dramatic effect. “The new SHO is a woman.”
Jadhav blinked, certain he had misheard. “A woman? Here? In Ambruj?” He let out a disbelieving chuckle. “Come on, Deshmukh, someone’s pulling your leg. No one in their right mind would post a female officer in this place.” His laughter was laced with incredulity.
Deshmukh, however, did not join in the laughter. He looked around nervously and swallowed hard before whispering, “I swear, it's true. And from what I’ve heard about her, she’s not someone to take lightly.”
Before Patil could respond, a loud bang echoed through the room. The heavy station door swung open with force, silencing every conversation in the office. The casual chatter, the whispered speculations, the hurried preparations—everything stopped in an instant.
All heads turned as Senior Inspector Kodape stepped in, his usual authoritative demeanor intact, but there was something different about him today—an air of resignation, perhaps even nervousness. But it wasn’t just Kodape who had entered.
Beside him stood a woman, her presence commanding yet calm.
She was not what they had expected.
SHO Shrutika Arora had arrived.
***********************************************
“Mummmmyyyyy…,” Aarav’s frail voice wavered, barely more than a whisper. His tiny arms struggled to lift from the bed, reaching out, desperate for the comfort of his mother’s embrace. His excitement at seeing her was overshadowed by the weakness that had overtaken his little body, but his eyes sparkled with longing.
Shipra’s heart clenched at the sight of her son in such a fragile state. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she rushed to his bedside. She knelt down, gathering him into her arms, pressing him close as if she could transfer her strength to him through her touch. His body felt so light, so delicate, and the realization made her grip him even tighter.
“I’m here, my love… Mummy’s here,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She ran her fingers through his disheveled hair, pressing soft kisses on his warm forehead. “I will take care of you, my baby. You’ll be fine… I promise.”
Aarav nestled into her embrace, sighing softly, the comfort of his mother’s arms working better than any medicine.
Standing at the door, Alok’s mother observed the tender moment with a smile of quiet relief. Seeing her grandson wrapped in his mother’s love, she felt reassured that he would soon regain his strength.
“With you here, he’ll recover in no time,” she said warmly. “A mother’s love is the best cure. Don’t worry, Shipra.”
Shipra wiped her tears and turned toward her mother-in-law, her gratitude evident in her eyes. “Thank you, Ma, for being here with him. For taking care of everything in my absence,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alok’s mother lifted a gentle hand, waving off Shipra’s gratitude with a warm smile. “There’s no need to thank me, beta. This is what family is for,” she said, her voice filled with quiet reassurance.
Just then, Alok stepped into the room, his presence bringing a new warmth to the air. He looked at Shipra, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Good to have you back, Shipra,” he said, his tone calm but carrying an underlying emotion only she could recognize.
Shipra met his gaze, searching for the affection she longed for. Outwardly, his expression remained composed, restrained in the presence of his mother. But in his eyes, she saw the glint of love, relief, and something unspoken yet deeply familiar.
Sensing the moment, Alok’s mother placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’ll leave you two alone,” she said knowingly before stepping out, giving them the privacy they needed.
Alok slowly made his way toward Shipra, his steps unhurried yet purposeful. As he reached her, he wrapped his arms around both Shipra and Aarav, pulling them into a firm, reassuring embrace. Shipra felt the warmth of his touch, the solid reassurance of his presence, and in that instant, every doubt, every unspoken complaint, and every trace of anger she had carried simply melted away.
Nothing else mattered. Not the past, not the misunderstandings, not the distance that had crept between them. All that existed in this moment was her child, her husband, and the unshakable bond of their family.
If it were up to her, she would stay like this forever—wrapped in their love, never letting go.
Shipra lifted her head slightly, her heart swelling with the desire to bridge the final gap between them. She searched his eyes for the same longing and leaned in, hoping for a deep, lingering kiss—a kiss that would reaffirm everything unspoken between them. A kiss that would reclaim her.
But instead, Alok pressed a soft peck on her lips, brief yet affectionate, before gently pulling away.
“We really missed you, Shipra,” he murmured, his voice laced with sincerity. His fingers brushed her arm as if reluctant to let go. “And I would love nothing more than to spend the whole day with you… but I have my mock test, and I need to leave.”
Shipra’s heart sank a little. She had expected—no, hoped—that he would stay longer, that they could steal some time for themselves after so long apart. A hint of disappointment flickered in her eyes as she met his gaze. “Can’t you skip it today, Alok?” she asked, her voice carrying a quiet plea.
Alok sighed, his hand coming up to cup her face gently. “I wish I could, Shipra, but the exams are just next month. I can’t afford to slack off, not even a little,” he explained, his tone apologetic yet firm. Then, sensing her lingering disappointment, he added, “But I promise, I’ll come home early. We’ll spend some time together, just us. I mean it.”
Although a part of her still wished he would stay but she knew how important his studies were. She let out a small sigh before offering him a soft, understanding smile.
“I understand,” she said, her voice gentle but filled with meaning. “I’ll be waiting.”
Alok gave her hand a small squeeze before pulling away, offering her one last lingering glance before turning toward the door.
Shipra watched Alok’s retreating figure, a storm of emotions swirling inside her. A part of her—the devoted wife, the woman who had once built her world around him—longed for more. She wanted him to pull her back, to hold her with the intensity of a man who had missed his wife beyond measure. She wanted him to kiss her deeply, passionately, making her forget everything that had happened over the last few weeks. She wished he would sense the distance between them and bridge it with love, with desire, with the kind of affection that would make her feel like nothing had changed.
But another part of her—the part buried beneath layers of guilt and secrecy—felt a strange relief. Alok’s brief affection and his hurried departure meant she didn’t have to face him just yet. She wasn’t sure how to meet his eyes without betraying the shame curling inside her. How to hold his hand without feeling the ghost of another man’s touch. How to lie to him, again and again, without letting the weight of her deception crush her completely.
The memories of her adulterous acts with Patode clung to her like an invisible stain, one that no amount of guilt or remorse could wash away. She had crossed a line, and there was no undoing it. Now, she found herself trapped in the impossible space between the woman she once was and the woman she had become.
She shook her head, forcing the thoughts away. For now, none of it mattered. Not the lies, not the guilt, not the gnawing fear of discovery.
Right now, she was here, holding Aarav in her arms. Her son—her little boy, innocent and oblivious to the turmoil within his mother. His warmth, his presence, was the only thing grounding her in this moment.
For now, that was enough.
Everything else… could wait.
***********************************************
Kodape leaned back in his old wooden chair, the worn-out creaks of the furniture blending with the quiet hum of the ceiling fan. His office, though modest, carried an air of authority, much like the man himself. With an easygoing posture, he observed the young officer sitting across from him, curiosity evident in his sharp gaze.
“Shrutika, if you don’t mind me asking,” he began, his voice carrying the weight of both experience and genuine intrigue, “why would a young, highly qualified officer like yourself choose a posting in such a difficult place?”
Shrutika’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. It wasn’t the first time she had heard this question, and she doubted it would be the last. People always seemed surprised—some, even skeptical—about her decision to be here.
Her fingers lightly traced the rim of the file resting on her lap as she met his gaze. “Why, Sir?” she asked, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Don’t you think female officers can handle tough postings?”
Kodape shifted slightly in his seat, momentarily caught off guard. He hadn’t expected such a direct response. “Oh no… that’s not what I meant,” he said quickly, clearing his throat as he tried to regain his composure.
Shrutika remained silent, watching him with patient curiosity.
Leaning forward, Kodape rested his elbows on the desk, regaining his usual casual demeanor. “What I meant,” he clarified, “is that you’re exceptionally talented—a cybercrime expert, someone with immense potential to climb the ranks. Yet, you chose Ambruj. Let’s be honest, this isn’t exactly a stepping stone to lucrative postings. So, why are you really here?”
There was a hint of frustration in his tone, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her, as if trying to peel away the layers of her carefully composed exterior.
Shrutika held his gaze, her smile unwavering, but something unreadable flickered across her expression. She had expected this line of questioning—it was inevitable.
“You know, sir,” she began, her tone even, almost casual, “a woman working a desk job in this department is rarely taken seriously. No matter how hard she works, no matter what she achieves, there’s always a whisper behind her back—some source must have pulled strings for her, some favor must have been exchanged.” She paused, watching his reaction before continuing. “I had a great opportunity working with the big shots at the DGP office. But even if I had climbed the ranks there, my promotions would have been dismissed as favoritism. So, here I am, choosing to gain real field experience—on my own terms. And what better place to prove myself than a district as difficult as Ambruj?”
Her voice was calm, her body language poised and composed, radiating quiet confidence.
Kodape let out a slow breath, tapping his fingers on the desk. He wasn’t entirely convinced. There was something about her answer—perhaps too polished, too well-rehearsed—that made him suspect she wasn’t telling him the whole truth. But before he could push further, Shrutika’s next words caught him off guard.
“And you must be happy, shouldn’t you, Kodape sir?” she added smoothly, her tone laced with something almost playful. “Finally getting transferred from such a challenging place.”
Kodape stiffened, the amusement in her words not lost on him. He knew exactly what she was implying.
It was no secret that places like Ambruj—riddled with muscleman politicians, gangsters, and a thriving network of corruption—were a goldmine for those willing to look the other way. Being the SHO here wasn’t a punishment; it was an opportunity, one that came with countless under-the-table perks. And Kodape had made full use of it.
His transfer out of Ambruj wasn’t a victory—it was a financial setback. And he was well aware that Shrutika knew it.
His jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he forced a chuckle, masking his irritation. “Well, every posting has its own… challenges,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Let’s see how long your enthusiasm lasts, Shrutika. Ambruj isn’t as simple as cybercrime investigations from an air-conditioned office.”
Shrutika merely smiled, unfazed by his subtle jab. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we, Sir?” she replied smoothly.
Continued to next post....
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