Incest Mom tricked by Bully (Mask of Desire)

[Steel]

The dining table was a battlefield of silence that night. Madhuri sat at one end, her dress swapped for a loose cotton pajama set.

Ramesh sat opposite, hunched over his plate, spooning dal into his mouth with mechanical grunts. The TV blared a news debate, a distraction none of them needed but all of them clung to. 

Abhi picked at his rice, his appetite gone, every clink of cutlery amplifying the noise in his head.

She broke the silence, "Ramesh, you're eating like a machine. Still thinking about that client, aren't you?"

Ramesh didn't look up, just shrugged. "Work is work honey," he muttered.

Madhuri rolled her eyes, setting her spoon down with a clatter. "You're always zoned out. Talk to me like I'm a human, okay?" 

Her tone softened at the end, a plea masked as frustration. But Ramesh only grunted again, reaching for more roti.

Abhi watched the exchange. He'd seen this before.  Usually, he'd feel bad for her, maybe crack a joke to make her smile. Tonight, he couldn't. 

She turned to him, catching his stare. "What's wrong sweetie? You're not eating." Her brown eyes searched his face, and he flinched, dropping his gaze to the plate.

"I'm fine, maa," he said, too quick, too hollow.

She frowned, reaching over to feel his forehead. "No fever... but you're off. Are you worried about anything?" Her hand lingered, warm and steady, and Abhi's throat closed up.

He wanted to tell her about Ishaan, the texts and everything, but the words wouldn't come. "Nothing, I'm just full," he lied, pushing his plate away.

Madhuri sighed, pulling her hand back. "Fine, go rest then. But tomorrow, you will eat properly."

Later, as Madhuri washed the dishes, Abhi lingered in the hallway. The sink water splashed, her pajama top riding up slightly, exposing a sliver of her lower back. He shouldn't look. But his eyes disobeyed, tracing the curve, and his breath stuttered. Ishaan's voice hissed in his ear, "Dig deeper."

Before he could stop himself, he texted: "Dad ignored her at the dinner and she's mad."

The reply was instant: "What else can you expect from that old fart? Be a good son and don't ignore her tonight. Check her room again, look for real shit this time."

Abhi's fingers tightened around the phone, a mix of dread and curiosity churning inside thinking, "Real shit? Like what?"

Madhuri turned off the tap, drying her hands, and caught him standing there. "Have some water before bed," she said, a tired smile tugging at her lips. 

Abhi nodded, mute, and watched her head to her room. The door clicked shut, and he waited, counting the seconds, the house settling into its nighttime hush. Then, like a thief, he crept closer to their bedroom, peeking through the door.