Adultery Between Nabila and Ranjeet

[naj0501]

The first guest came a few minutes after Ammi sat down with Adnan.Then guests started coming and house transformed from a quiet, heavy space to one buzzing with greetings, laughter and hustle bustle. Children’s voices rose. The smell of samosas and jalebis filled the living room as trays made their way in from the kitchen.
“Aree beta, happy birthday!”
“Bhai wah, kitna bada ho gaya hai!”
Adnan beamed under the attention, holding onto his new toy while jumping between guests and the balloon bunch Ranjeet had tied to the back of a chair.
I stood near the doorway, offering smiles, air-kissing cheeks, hugging guests and accepting compliments about the decorations.
Everyone noticed my outfit.
“Uff, Nabila, tum toh aaj chand lag rahi ho!”
“Blue suits you, yaar. Is it designer?”
“Woh lipstick shade… killer!”
I nodded, smiled, thanked them robotically. All on autopilot mode.
My eyes searched the room for Adnan every few minutes. Then found Ranjeet -standing by the drinks table, handing out juice boxes to kids, laughing softly with a guest about how many balloons it took to make the arch.
How easy he blended among the strangers .....
But when our eyes met across the room-just for a second -I knew he hadn’t forgotten what we were both holding back.
Ammi noticed it too. Her glances were quieter now, her expressions unreadable. She sat near the corner, occasionally scolding Adnan lovingly or asking someone if they’d had snacks.
And still… I felt her watching me.
I moved from guest to guest, adjusting plates, wiping crumbs, offering more chutney, complimenting their dresses. Every gesture practiced. Every laugh perfectly timed.
Strangely, no one inquired about Asif's absence.Maybe they knew better. Maybe they’d been warned.Or maybe… they didn’t care.
“Sab ready?” Ranjeet called out cheerfully. People gathered around the table where cake was placed. Ranjeet asked someone to dim the lights a little.
And then the chant began.
“Happy birthday to you…”
Adnan stood in front of the cake, his eyes wide, a grin stretching from one cheek to the other, both palms planted excitedly on the table. He looked up at me and beamed.
I stood behind him, one hand gently resting on his shoulder, the other adjusting the dupatta that kept sliding down my arm. My bangles clinked softly, lost under the sound of claps, song, and laughter.
“Happy birthday dear Adnaaan…”
The candles flickered. A tiny breeze from the ceiling fan made the flames dance just as Adnan closed his eyes tightly and made a wish.
I smiled down at him.
Everyone cheered as he blew out the candles, clapped again when he cut the cake and playfully put some frosting on my finger before licking it off with a laugh.
He took the piece in his hand and offered to me.I leaned in for a bite, laughing as he pressed it to my lips like it was tradition.People started cheering.
Something made me lift my head-maybe instinct, maybe a whisper only I could hear in the noise.
There he was.
Ranjeet stood slightly away from the group, near the edge of the crowd. His phone was in his hand, held up to capture the moment, but he wasn’t just another guest snapping photos.
He stood calmly, like he belonged there—but there was something focused about the way he was standing. One foot slightly ahead, his chin lifted, and his eyes moving slowly, searching through the crowd.
But he wasn’t looking at the cake. Not even at Adnan.
He was looking right at me.
His gaze was steady and intense, like he could see something no one else could. And even though I knew I should’ve looked away… I didn’t.
I stared back at him for a moment longer than I should have, like we were both caught in some quiet understanding neither of us could say out loud.
And in that glance, everything else faded.
The guests. The laughter. The smell of vanilla and birthday balloons.
It was just his eyes and mine.
There was no smile on his face. Just a quiet focus. Like he was memorizing something. Or someone.
Like the picture he wanted the most… wasn’t on his phone. It was already in his mind.
And just before he lowered the camera, just before the next round of cheers broke the moment-
He winked.
So quickly, so subtly, I wasn’t even sure it happened.
But my breath caught anyway.
I turned to Adnan, who was still smiling brightly, his little hands sticky with frosting. He held out the leftover piece of cake to me. I gently took it from his fingers and brought it up to his mouth, feeding it to him slowly as he giggled, crumbs sticking to the corner of his lips.
"Happy Birthday to my dearest...May you live for thousand years" I greeted him lovingly.
Then I helped Adnan cut more pieces and we started to distribute the cake to the guests.
I slipped into the kitchen to grab more plates for the guests.
The party was buzzing outside - kids chasing each other with balloon swords, someone laughing a little too loudly over the music, and Ammi calling out for someone to pass her cake.
I opened the cabinet, half-distracted, when I heard the door creak behind me.
I turned to the direction of the sound and found Ranjeet standing there.
“Tum chupke chupke kitchen mein kya kar rahi ho?” came his voice—low, warm, teasing.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Tum mujhe stalk kar rahe ho kya?”
“Main?” he raised both eyebrows. “Main toh bas yeh dekhne aaya tha ke hostess kitchen mein chhup ke cake to nahi chura rahi na.”
I smirked, sliding a plate onto the counter. “Mujhe chhup ke cake khana hota toh main balcony ka rasta leti. Tumhara toh bas reason chahiye hota hai mujhe follow karne ka.”
He took a step closer, resting one hand on the counter beside me. “Main mana nahi kar raha.”
His nearness made the air suddenly warmer. The light above flickered faintly -like even the room was holding its breath.
I turned slowly toward him, arms crossed, letting the corner of my dupatta slip from my shoulder just slightly.
“So?” I said, arching a brow. “Kya chahiye tumhe kitchen se? Cake? Chai? Ya hostess ka attention?”
He chuckled, eyes trailing down the edge of my dupatta. “Hostess ka attention mil gaya. Ab bas spoon chahiye. Cake khane ke liye.”
I reached for the drawer beside him, intentionally leaning a little too close as I opened it. My bangles brushed his wrist.
“Careful,” he murmured, voice low now. “Aise nazdeek aogi toh main spoon bhool jaunga.”
I looked up, right into his eyes. “Accha ?.”
For a second, we just stood there.
His hand hovered near mine.
My heartbeat was suddenly louder than the music outside.
He lifted one corner of his mouth in that half-smile I was learning to read too well. The one that meant don’t tempt me unless you mean it.
But before anything could slip between us - word, touch, breath - a loud knock came at the door.
“Bhaiya, aur plates chahiye!” a voice shouted from the hallway.
I exhaled, stepping back with a playful roll of my eyes.
He grabbed a few plates from the counter. “Main le jaata hoon.”
I smirked. “Spoon toh reh gaya.”
He winked. “Sorry....Mera focus kahin aur tha.”
And just like that, he disappeared into the noise again.
Leaving behind the scent of aftershave and tension that refused to leave with him.