Adultery Priya Didi

[shailu4ever]

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Priya Didi’s gaze shifted to the tray of food between them, the spread now cold but still inviting. "Do you want some?" she asked softly, her voice teasing. She couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips.
 
Ravi chuckled, reaching for the plate of biryani. "I thought you were the one who needed feeding," he teased back, his smile full of warmth.
 
"You’re right," she said, "But I’ve been eating like a queen today."
 
He glanced at her, his smile lingering, before taking a bite of the biryani. The way he chewed, the unhurried, thoughtful way he ate, made her realize just how much he had changed. There was a stillness in him now ,  a calmness that hadn’t been there before.
 
They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound the soft clink of utensils and the occasional rustle of the blanket. Ravi made sure to offer her more, keeping an eye on her, making sure she ate enough. His care was quiet, constant, and it was enough to fill her with a warmth that had nothing to do with the food.
 
As the meal slowed, Ravi wiped his hands on a napkin, then reached over to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The gesture was simple, but the tenderness with which he did it made her breath catch.
 
They both fell into a silence that was heavy with everything they hadn’t said yet, everything they were still unsure of. But in that moment, there was no need for words. Just the quiet understanding that things were different now ,  better, maybe, though neither of them dared to say it aloud just yet.
 
After a long while, Priya Didi turned to him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ravi," she said, "What are we doing?"
 
The question hung in the air, fragile and delicate, as if asking it might shatter something they were both afraid to touch.
 
Ravi looked at her, his expression soft but uncertain. "I don’t know," he admitted quietly. "But I want to keep doing it... this. I want to take care of you, Priya Didi. I... I just want to be here."
 
Her heart softened at the rawness in his voice. He didn’t have all the answers, and neither did she, but the honesty, the vulnerability, felt like a step forward.
 
"Maybe we’ll figure it out," she said, her words tentative but full of something she hadn’t felt in a long time ,  hope. "Maybe it’s enough, for now."
 
"Maybe," he replied, his gaze steady on hers, and for a moment, everything felt possible.
 
And as the sunlight filtered through the curtains, bathing them in soft, golden light, it was as if the world outside didn’t exist. In that small space, with the lingering scent of incense and the warmth of their shared silence, something fragile and beautiful was taking root.
 
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

-- oOo --

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