An Innocent Beauty Continues Part2

[Deepak.kapoor]

Meera's Sleepless Struggle

Meera lay motionless beside her husband, the thin cotton sheet barely covering her bare skin. The ceiling above was a blur of shadows, but her mind painted its own fevered pictures. Her breathing was shallow and uneven, every inhale laced with the heat of memory and the chill of shame.


The slow rise and fall of her husband’s chest beside her, his arm occasionally brushing hers in sleep, should have been comforting. But tonight, his presence only deepened the ache inside her. She glanced at him again—his face calm, innocent in sleep—and her stomach coiled with guilt.


He has no idea. No idea that hours ago, my body was answering to another man’s command.


She closed her eyes tight, trying to banish the flashbacks—Vikram’s fingers curling around her wrist, the possessive way his breath had ghosted against her neck, the boldness with which he had claimed her skin like he owned it. And worst of all… how her body had welcomed it.


Her thighs shifted unconsciously beneath the sheet. That wicked spark he’d lit in her still burned. She hated it—hated that it lingered. Even now, in the bed she shared with the man she loved, she could still feel Vikram's touch.


“It was supposed to be a tactic,” she whispered soundlessly. “Just enough to earn his trust, to get what we need.”


But she hadn’t just played the seductress.


She had become her.


And the woman who emerged in Vikram’s presence—that woman—was someone Meera didn’t recognize. A stranger who moaned at the wrong man’s lips, who arched into his grasp, who whispered things she shouldn’t have even thought.


She turned on her side, facing away from her husband, pressing her thighs together tightly.


“Why did I let it go that far?”


But she already knew. It wasn’t just strategy. Something inside her had wanted it-hungered for the danger, dominance, and reckless surrender. With Vikram, there were no rules, no structure—only heat and chaos.


Her fingers gripped the bedsheet.


She had always been composed. She had lived by control, planned, calculated, and been careful, but one afternoon in Vikram’s arms had shattered that composure like glass. And even now, the shards were cutting through her conscience.


“Am I losing myself?” she wondered. “Or am I finally discovering who I am?”


She hated that question.


She hated how part of her wanted to feel that way again. Her lips still tingled, her breath still quickened, and her core still pulsed with the echo of what he had awakened. It was a betrayal of her husband, of herself.


And yet… part of her lay awake, wanting more.


Was it possible to be two women at once—devoted wife and dangerous lover?


Could she still be who she used to be… or had Vikram unlocked a door she couldn’t close?


Tears stung the corners of her eyes, but they didn’t fall. She wouldn't let them.


“This is for Riya,” she reminded herself again, the mantra weakening in her mind each time she repeated it. “Get the videos. End his power. And then... forget all of this.”


But she knew she wouldn’t forget. The fire had already been lit, even if she never touched him again. It would stay with her, smoldering, hungry, waiting.


The guilt and desire warred inside her as the hours passed. She clenched her thighs tighter, curled into herself, and bit down on her lip one final time.


Sleep wouldn’t come tonight.


And tomorrow, she knew, would only be harder.