Adultery The Husband’s Doubt [Completed]

[heygiwriter]

Chapter 21 – Lines Drawn, Trust Earned

The air was different — charged, but not tense.

Prem spoke first.

“We need to draw lines, Nivi. House and office.”
Nivi nodded, waiting.

“You handle the pitches. You’re brilliant at it. But Aara comes home by 4. You must be back by 6 PM latest — homework, dinner, bedtime.”
Nivi’s eyes flickered, but she agreed. “Okay.”

“By 10:30 Am, you need to be at office.”
She smiled faintly. “Understood.”

Prem leaned forward. “Once the business grows — really grows — I’ll hire professional marketing people. Train them. Then you can step back if you want. Lessen the burden. You’ll have more time for Aara… and us.”

Nivi looked at him for a long moment.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
But inside, something stirred.
Step back?

She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

The following week, it began.
Rohan brought one client every week — carefully chosen, mid-to-large, hungry for outsourcing.
Nivi shone in every meeting.

Her pitches were stories — not slides.
Clients leaned in.
Signed.

Prem’s small office grew louder — more staff, more phones ringing, more revenue.
Nivi became the face of the front end.

Prem handled the back — delivery, operations, scripts.
After one particularly big win, Rohan turned to her in the conference room.

“There’s a new prospect. Needs a personal touch. Dinner meeting tomorrow night?”
Nivi hesitated.

Prem, in the room, handed her the car keys without missing a beat.
“Go. You’ll close it.”

Then, smoothly, he turned to Rohan.
“Stay back a minute? Need your thoughts on scaling the team.”

Rohan sat.
He understood.
Trust not fully earned yet.
Prem still guarding.
Rohan smiled inwardly.
Fine.

He had time.
That night, he texted Aaravind.

Move on Inforexat Pvt Ltd. Cause a scene. Nivi will be there for the pitch.
Aaravind replied instantly: Done.

The next day — thirty minutes into Nivi’s solo pitch at Inforexat — trouble.
Fake technical glitch, planted by Aaravind’s “representative.”

Client frustrated.
Nivi called Prem, voice calm but urgent.

Prem panicked — critical script release that day.
He couldn’t leave.

“Rohan’s nearby,” he said. “I’ll send him.”
Rohan arrived.

Fixed it — quietly, efficiently.
Client impressed.
Deal closed.

From then on, for almost a month, it became pattern.
Every client meet.
Every escalation.
Rohan accompanied Nivi.

Prem too busy with operations to join.
“Safer anyway,” Prem told himself.

Rohan and Nivi — car rides, conference rooms, coffee breaks between meetings.
Always professional.
Never personal.

But the time together grew.
They talked shop — market trends, client psychology, scaling dreams.

Rohan listened when she spoke about old college ideas.
Never pushed.
Never flirted overtly.
Just… present.
Attentive.

He loved her company more than the thought of taking her to bed.
For now.

The trust bloomed.
Slowly.

One evening, after a late meeting in Rohan’s mall office, rain threatening again.
Nivi gathered her laptop.

“Thank you for coming today. Again.”
Rohan looked up from his desk.

“You don’t need to thank me every time.”
She smiled — small, genuine.
“I know. But I mean it.”

He held her gaze.
“You’re wasted on just pitches, Nivi.”
She paused at the door.
“What do you mean?”
He leaned back.
“You could run the whole show. One day.”
She laughed softly.
“One day.”
She left.

Rohan watched her go.
The obsession deepened.
Not just her body.

Her mind.
Her fire.
The way she was waking up.

He could wait.
The bed would come.
When she was ready to burn.