16-06-2025, 01:19 AM
Sunday Morning Drive – Abhi and Madhavi
The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of Abhi's apartment.
It was just past 9:15 AM when he stepped out, freshly showered and dressed in a crisp cream shirt and dark jeans, and a pair of brown leather loafers.
As he locked the door, he turned to see Madhavi waiting outside her flat — Flat 202.
She stood gracefully, adjusting her delicate saree.
It was a soft lilac shade with a subtle shimmer, the kind that caught the light and wrapped around her like water.
The fabric hugged her curves in a way that seemed unintentional, yet impossible to ignore.
Her sleeveless blouse was simple but revealing enough to draw attention — a low back, thin straps, and a neckline that hinted at fullness beneath.
Her glossy black hair was pinned loosely, a few tendrils brushing her cheeks.
A pair of pearl studs dangled from her ears.
She looked up and smiled. "You’re early. Or am I late?"
"Right on time," Abhi replied, returning her smile.
As they walked toward Sandeep's car, she clutched her small silver clutch and murmured, "I hope I’m not troubling you, Abhi. I know your Sundays are precious."
He unlocked the car and opened the door for her. "Not at all. It’s a pleasure, Madhavi."
Inside the car, the air felt cooler, more enclosed — almost like a bubble separate from the rest of the world.
It is not like bus ride. Even though they sit closer in bus, this is more private
Abhi started the engine and adjusted his rear-view mirror.
As he did, he caught a glimpse of her back — bare, save for the blouse’s delicate straps.
She was adjusting her pallu, pulling it across her chest, but for a moment, it had slipped, giving him a view of the smooth skin along her side.
She caught him glancing.
"You’ve become more confident in looking at things you’re not supposed to," she said softly, her lips curling into a knowing smile.
Abhi chuckled under his breath. "Some things are hard to ignore."
Madhavi leaned back, her fingers idly playing with the corner of her saree.
"You were so shy during those bus rides. You’d sit stiffly, even when the seat forced us shoulder-to-shoulder."
"I was scared I’d fall for a married woman," he said before realizing it had come out louder than intended.
There was a pause.
She looked out the window, but he saw her smile gently. "And did you?"
He hesitated. "I don’t know. I just know I still remember how you smelled every time I got off the bus."
She turned to face him then, fully, her eyes deep and searching.
Her pallu had slipped slightly again, resting low on one arm, and she didn’t correct it.
"There’s something about being seen, Abhi," she said quietly. "Not just noticed. Seen. With Sandeep, life is... coordinated. Familiar. But with you..."
Her voice trailed off. The traffic slowed at a signal. Silence settled.
Abhi reached for the gear, and as he did, her hand brushed against his. Neither pulled away immediately.
She looked down, then let out a soft breath. "You make me feel like a woman. Not just a wife."
The light turned green.
They drove in silence for a while, the tension lingering like a melody with no resolution. The city blurred around them. They weren’t touching, but something in the air pulsed — slow, warm, electric.
As they neared Secunderabad, she broke the silence. "Sometimes I wonder if I’d met you before I got married... would I have waited longer to say yes to someone else."
Abhi swallowed. He didn’t respond.
This wasn’t just a drive.
Something had shifted again.
---
The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of Abhi's apartment.
It was just past 9:15 AM when he stepped out, freshly showered and dressed in a crisp cream shirt and dark jeans, and a pair of brown leather loafers.
As he locked the door, he turned to see Madhavi waiting outside her flat — Flat 202.
She stood gracefully, adjusting her delicate saree.
It was a soft lilac shade with a subtle shimmer, the kind that caught the light and wrapped around her like water.
The fabric hugged her curves in a way that seemed unintentional, yet impossible to ignore.
Her sleeveless blouse was simple but revealing enough to draw attention — a low back, thin straps, and a neckline that hinted at fullness beneath.
Her glossy black hair was pinned loosely, a few tendrils brushing her cheeks.
A pair of pearl studs dangled from her ears.
She looked up and smiled. "You’re early. Or am I late?"
"Right on time," Abhi replied, returning her smile.
As they walked toward Sandeep's car, she clutched her small silver clutch and murmured, "I hope I’m not troubling you, Abhi. I know your Sundays are precious."
He unlocked the car and opened the door for her. "Not at all. It’s a pleasure, Madhavi."
Inside the car, the air felt cooler, more enclosed — almost like a bubble separate from the rest of the world.
It is not like bus ride. Even though they sit closer in bus, this is more private
Abhi started the engine and adjusted his rear-view mirror.
As he did, he caught a glimpse of her back — bare, save for the blouse’s delicate straps.
She was adjusting her pallu, pulling it across her chest, but for a moment, it had slipped, giving him a view of the smooth skin along her side.
She caught him glancing.
"You’ve become more confident in looking at things you’re not supposed to," she said softly, her lips curling into a knowing smile.
Abhi chuckled under his breath. "Some things are hard to ignore."
Madhavi leaned back, her fingers idly playing with the corner of her saree.
"You were so shy during those bus rides. You’d sit stiffly, even when the seat forced us shoulder-to-shoulder."
"I was scared I’d fall for a married woman," he said before realizing it had come out louder than intended.
There was a pause.
She looked out the window, but he saw her smile gently. "And did you?"
He hesitated. "I don’t know. I just know I still remember how you smelled every time I got off the bus."
She turned to face him then, fully, her eyes deep and searching.
Her pallu had slipped slightly again, resting low on one arm, and she didn’t correct it.
"There’s something about being seen, Abhi," she said quietly. "Not just noticed. Seen. With Sandeep, life is... coordinated. Familiar. But with you..."
Her voice trailed off. The traffic slowed at a signal. Silence settled.
Abhi reached for the gear, and as he did, her hand brushed against his. Neither pulled away immediately.
She looked down, then let out a soft breath. "You make me feel like a woman. Not just a wife."
The light turned green.
They drove in silence for a while, the tension lingering like a melody with no resolution. The city blurred around them. They weren’t touching, but something in the air pulsed — slow, warm, electric.
As they neared Secunderabad, she broke the silence. "Sometimes I wonder if I’d met you before I got married... would I have waited longer to say yes to someone else."
Abhi swallowed. He didn’t respond.
This wasn’t just a drive.
Something had shifted again.
---
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