[Steel]

Madhuri stood in her bedroom that night, the coral saree pooled on the floor, her reflection stark in the mirror. She'd changed into a nightie, traced her fingers along her collarbone, replaying Ishaan's visit.

His boldness, offering help and touching her , flexing abs like some hero, should've annoyed her. But it didn't. It stirred her, a ripple in the calm she'd clung to for years. "He's just a teenager... yet his confidence, his eyes, his body... they didn't feel like that," she thought.

Downstairs, Abhi paced the living room, he'd seen it, her flush, her laugh, the way she'd looked at Ishaan's abs. It wasn't just nice. It was something else, something that made his stomach churn and weirdly his dick twitch like betrayal he couldn't face.

His phone buzzed, Ishaan: "Hey, show me what she's doing."

Abhi's breath hitched, cursing himself, "I'm an idiot, swear to G0d, I might as well carve my own tombstone." He crept upstairs, the house creaking under him, and paused at her door.

It was ajar, the mirror angled just right, he saw her, nightie slipping off one shoulder, slightly showing off her cleavage, her hand sliding down her neck, eyes half-closed, her dress revealing bit of her inner thighs.

His mouth went dry looking at her. A jolt shot through him with a mix of shame and thrill.

She was lost in her own world, and he fumbled his phone, snapping a blurry shot before bolting back downstairs.

He sent it, hands shaking: "Here. Don't ask anymore."

Ishaan's response was a firebomb: "Damn! your mom's looking like a slut."

"Congrats, dummy, you didn't screw it up, miracles do happen after all."

Abhi deleted the pic and the chats, curling into the couch. But the image seared into him, his mom, vulnerable, alive in a way he'd never seen. He hated Ishaan, hated himself, but the thrill lingered, dark and addictive.

Upstairs, Madhuri caught a shadow in the mirror, a flicker, gone fast, and froze.

"Who's there?" she whispered, but the room was empty.

She stood up and locked the door, but the crack was widening, her pride splintering under eyes she couldn't see.

Across town, Ishaan grinned at the photo, stroking himself through his shorts. Madhuri was crumbling, faster than he'd hoped.