Adultery Radiance of Vanitha

[adams_masala]

The coordinator nods, her eyes bright with the enthusiasm of someone who loves her job. 

"Latha is wonderful, and she's very committed. You're lucky to have her. And I see we've already received your frozen materials. Everything is ready to proceed as soon as you're comfortable."


Ashok's confidence seems to grow with her words. "That's great to hear," he says. "We've been thinking about this for a long time, and we feel ready." His words echo their discussion from last night, where 'we' meant so much more than Vanitha had dared to tell him.

Vanitha listens, the words bouncing off the walls of her mind as other thoughts crowd in. Is she ready? Does she want to be? SilverFox77's intrusion unsettles her again, the stranger's images leaving an indelible mark on her certainty. Why, out of everyone, did she let him into her life? His blatant audacity lingers like a question she's too proud to ask.

The coordinator taps her tablet, making notes, glancing at Vanitha with expectation. "Do you have any questions or concerns? The initial steps can feel overwhelming, but we're here to guide you."

Vanitha hesitates, her smile poised, as she recalls the sensation of lying on a clinic table, needles and sterile lights overhead as they harvested her eggs. It seemed so clinical, so detached. She wonders, not for the first time, if she's missing an experience, a connection, by not carrying the child herself. But then she thinks of her body, the discipline, the control she's fought to maintain, and the haunting presence of those unsolicited images. Is her fear of change really so selfish?

She leans forward, adopting Ashok's earnestness. "We just want to be sure we're making the right choice with Latha. That she's prepared." The question is meant to sound practical, but beneath it lies a deeper uncertainty she's not willing to voice.

"She's a great match for you," the coordinator assures, a practiced smile accompanying her words. "And her commitment is absolute. You couldn't ask for a better surrogate." 

Vanitha glances at Ashok, his excitement clear as he nods along with the coordinator's reassurances. He seems to believe in this path so completely. She tries to mirror his enthusiasm, telling herself this is what she wanted, what they both need to be happy. 

They finalize the details, Vanitha's signature looping across the screen with the fluidity of a decision that seems set in stone. She wonders if the ink will dry or if it will smear under the weight of her hidden doubts. 

"You're making a wonderful choice," the coordinator says, shaking their hands as she escorts them back to the reception area. Ashok looks at Vanitha with eyes full of hope, and she smiles back, fighting to suppress the conflict inside her. As they step outside, the sun bright and incongruent with the burden she feels, Ashok slips an arm around her waist.

"It's real now," he says, his voice filled with an optimism she both envies and resents. 

She leans into him, the familiarity of his touch a comfort and a reminder. "It is," she agrees, her voice softer, edged with an emotion she can't quite name. The words feel hollow, the reality not as solid as she hoped. She pictures her life like those orchids — flawless at first glance but with unseen imperfections lurking. 

Ashok watches her, reading the unspoken tension, and gives her a reassuring squeeze. "Remember, we're doing this together. I love you."

Vanitha smiles, trying to absorb his certainty. She recalls the unread message waiting, a reminder of the impulsive decision she's too proud to retract. Maybe it's not too late to delete it all, forget the haunting glimpse into a different life. But another part of her, the part that opened the first one, wonders what she's giving up. "I love you too," she whispers, holding him close as they walk away from the clinic, the smooth path of their plan paved with her secret uncertainty.