Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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Ravi set the tray on the bedside table, adjusting it carefully. His hands brushed against the cloth, smoothing the edges, before he turned back to her, his expression soft and earnest.
 
"You thought of everything," Priya Didi said, her smile tugging at her lips. His thoughtfulness, the way he’d ordered her favorites, felt like more than just a meal. It was care. It was him in every choice.
 
"I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I ordered a bit of everything," Ravi replied, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
 
"You didn’t have to," Priya Didi murmured, a quiet ache forming in her chest. The gesture, so simple yet so intentional, felt like more than just food. It was an offering. A piece of him.
 
"I wanted to," Ravi said simply. His voice was warm, with something deeper hiding just beneath the surface.
 
"I’ll serve you," he said, reaching for the spoon. There was something gentle in his touch, and the softness in his expression made her heart skip.
 
Priya Didi opened her mouth to protest, but his eyes, those quiet, soulful eyes, made her pause. He had never looked at her like this before, so tender, so open. She softened under his gaze, warmth blooming in her chest.
 
Ravi started with the paneer tikka, its golden edges catching the light. The fragrance filled the air as he placed a piece on her plate. It was too beautiful to be real. She could feel the heat of it on her fingertips as she reached for the first bite.
 
When the paneer hit her tongue, it was a rush of smoky softness, followed by cumin and garlic. Her eyes fluttered closed, a soft sigh escaping her lips before she could stop it. It wasn’t just the food. It was everything, the intimacy of the moment, the way he watched her, the way he cared for her.
 
Ravi watched her closely, the faintest curve of a smile on his lips. She remembers what she loves, he thought, feeling something shift within him. She’s trusting me again.
 
"I’m glad you like it," he murmured, his voice low, intimate. It was more than a casual comment; the words felt heavy, filled with unspoken meaning.
 
"It’s perfect," Priya Didi replied softly, meeting his gaze. She could see it now, the subtle shifts in his expression, the care in every movement. It wasn’t just about food; it was about comfort, about closeness. It was their unspoken language.
 
"You remembered," she said quietly, glancing at the spread. It wasn’t just the food. It was how he remembered her favorites, how he still thought of her.

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