Adultery A SOUTH INDIAN WIFE'S -Unspoken Flames

[thirddemodreamer]

A Refreshed Start at the Quarters

The next morning, Vanitha’s day began as usual, but with a renewed spark—sunlight pierced the kitchen windows, the aroma of freshly roasted lentils filling the house. She made idlis and chutney for the kids, sent them to college, and handed Vinith a coffee.
Vanitha: "Take care," she said with a smile, seeing him off—a lightness spread in her mind.
The house quieted, and she stepped into the bathroom—the white tiles gleamed in the morning light, a faint soap scent surrounding her. Shedding her churidar, she grabbed a cotton towel and filled the tub with hot water—steam rose, fogging the mirror. She eased into the tub, warm water kissing her feet, relaxing her body—she scooped water, pouring it over her shoulders, letting it roll down her back, sparking a shiver. She ran fingers through her hair, washing it with shampoo’s gentle fragrance, and scrubbed her body with new soap—bubbles softened her skin, refreshing her. After bathing, she dried off and dbangd a large black-and-grey checkered cotton saree—its textured fabric wrapped her softly, a black blouse adding dignity. Leaving her hair loose over her shoulders, she pinned a jasmine flower, then headed out—a cab sent for her took her to the quarters.
As the cab stopped behind the quarters, Vanitha stepped out—the morning breeze nudged her saree, hinting at a fresh start. Mani and Sumithra waited by the house. Mani, in his forties, an average man in a faded grey shirt and black pants—his hair slightly greyed, a thin beard framing a modest, lower-middle-class look—smiled faintly, though his eyes held a flicker of curiosity, hands faintly sweaty, a small bag slung over his shoulder. Sumithra, in her late fifties, petite in a green saree, hair in a tight bun—her wrinkled face carried lively eyes that sparkled.
Mani and Sumithra: "Come, madam," they said with small smiles.
Mani opened the house door, ushering Vanitha in—the cab drove off. The house, though small, was clean and slightly modern—a large hall with a partitioned kitchen upfront, a wooden dining table behind, and a big office desk with a computer. A bedroom with an attached bathroom sat to the side—white walls, soft yellow light, and a breeze from a small window kept it fresh. Vanitha had been here a few times for audits or temp paperwork, but now it felt like a new beginning. She took a deep breath.
Vanitha: This place feels peaceful for work, she thought—relief settled in, knowing it wouldn’t stir Angith’s memories.
Sumithra: "Madam, need anything?" she asked softly.
Vanitha smiled.
Vanitha: "Alright, akka, make tea for all three of us," she said, her voice warm with friendliness.
While tea brewed, Vanitha walked to the office desk, adjusting the chair to sit—her saree slipped slightly, baring her waist, her soft skin glinting faintly. Mani, standing nearby, caught it—his eyes widened, a spark of interest crossing his face. He’d always felt a quiet attraction to Vanitha—her beauty and position kept him at a distance, yet he secretly savored these rare close moments. But he lacked the nerve to cross boundaries—his hands trembled, and he looked away. Vanitha noticed but brushed it off—men at the office often admired or stole glances; she saw it as routine.
Vanitha: "Mani, are all the files I asked for here?" she asked, her voice firm and professional.
Mani: "Yes, madam," he replied, pointing to the stack on the desk.
Vanitha flipped through them.
Vanitha: "Two files are missing. Get them," she instructed.
Sumithra arrived with three cups of tea—its sweet aroma filled the room, a gentle warmth circling them. Vanitha sat, sipping slowly—her lips touched the cup, a faint satisfaction on her face. Mani stood opposite, drinking his tea, sneaking glances—her saree’s curves and the glimpse of her waist drew his eyes, but he hid it, looking away.
Sumithra and Mani: "Madam, we’ll step out and be back," they said after finishing.
Vanitha nodded slightly, opened the files, and began work—pen in hand, she powered on the computer, murmuring softly as she read, her mind sinking into the task, finding calm.
Around 1:00 PM, Mani returned with a bag—lunch and the requested files. He’d also brought a new water can.
Mani: "Madam, got this too," he said with a small smile, clearly trying to impress.
Vanitha didn’t dwell on it; men acting this way was nothing new.
Vanitha: "Alright, I’ll let you know if I need anything else," she said casually, her tone professional.
Mani: "Okay, madam," he said, leaving.
Vanitha closed the files and moved to the dining table.
Vanitha: "Sumithra, come, let’s eat," she called.
Sumithra: "Madam, me too?" she asked, hesitant.
Vanitha laughed.
Vanitha: "Come, akka, I won’t eat alone," she insisted, seating her.
They shared lunch—rice, dal, and a small vegetable curry—chatting lightly.
Vanitha: "Akka, what does your son do?"
Sumithra: "He works in a shop, madam," she replied with a smile.
After lunch, Vanitha resumed work—reading files, taking notes, sighing with mild fatigue. Sumithra washed dishes and cleaned—the clink of utensils filled the space. In the evening, Vanitha had tea with Sumithra again—the warmth soothing her. Around 5:30 PM, Mani returned with more files. Vanitha handed him completed ones.
Vanitha: "I need these files tomorrow," she said, giving him a written list.
Mani: "Alright, madam," he nodded, stealing a glance before leaving.
Vanitha grabbed her bag and took a cab home—the air had cooled, and leaning against the window, she felt a quiet relief. At home, in bed, she vented to Vinith.
Vanitha: "Vinith, this new work is so tiring. So much for the next promotion," she said, a hint of exhaustion in her voice.
Vinith hugged her.
Vinith: "Vani, you’re a tiger. You’ll nail this too. For a month, I’ll handle the house and kids—you focus on work," he said reassuringly, his voice firm with love, a support he offered whenever she needed it.
Vanitha gave a small smile.
Vanitha: "Thanks, Vinith," she murmured, resting against his chest, drifting into sleep—her breaths evened out, the day’s fatigue melting into calm.