23-12-2025, 12:05 AM
Chapter 25 – The Kiss by the Pool
The penthouse suite in Bangalore was quiet, the city lights shimmering below like scattered diamonds.
Nivi stood on the terrace, phone in hand, staring at the pool’s soft glow.
The day had been perfect — deals signed, her name on the company papers, freedom tasting real for the first time.
Then the phone rang.
Prem.
She answered, heart sinking.
His voice came sharp, agitated.
“Nivi? Separate rooms or same room? Put the video on — now.”
Nivi glanced at Rohan inside.
He nodded calmly — Go. Do as he needs.
She switched to video.
Prem’s face filled the screen — tired, eyes narrowed.
“Who’s there with you? Where exactly are you?”
Nivi kept her voice steady. “Separate room. Hotel booked two. I’m alone.”
Prem’s words tumbled. “I trust you. But men — I know how they look at you. Aaravind… Rakesh… I protected you from all that. And now you’re away overnight?”
He ranted — reasons piling up.
Insecurity. Fear. Control dressed as care.
Every word a chain.
Rohan watched from the doorway, silent.
Listening.
The call dragged — Prem demanding proof, questioning timings, blaming the trip.
Finally, Nivi cut it.
“I’m safe. Good night.”
She hung up.
Hands shaking.
She walked back inside, face pale.
Rohan stepped closer.
“You okay?”
She exhaled, eyes wet but fierce.
“He’s like this because of the past. Aaravind. Rakesh. And… Prakash.”
Rohan’s brow lifted slightly.
“What did they do?”
Nivi hesitated.
Then the words came — quiet, heavy.
“Aaravind tried to force himself on me in college. Prem saved me.”
“Rakesh — at the textile shop. Grabbed me. I slapped him.”
“And Prakash…”
Her voice cracked.
“The night he tried. The pill. The bedroom. I woke up… feeling used. But I pretended I didn’t remember. When Prem and I fought once, he dragged Aaravind’s name. I was terrified if he said Prakash… it would destroy him. The guilt of not protecting me.”
She looked at Rohan, tears brimming.
“So I lied. Said I didn’t know. He thinks he spared me trauma by hiding it. But really… I spared him from traumatising me with his reaction.”
Rohan moved nearer.
His presence warm, steady.
“You’ve carried too much alone.”
She nodded, voice breaking.
“These things… they made Prem never trust any man around me. Never.”
Rohan’s voice soft.
“It’s natural. You’re beautiful. If I were your husband… I’d be secured too.”
He paused.
“But not over-insecured. Trust is the base of everything.”
Nivi looked at him — grateful, raw.
He asked gently.
“So you knew about Prakash all along?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I pretended… to protect us both.”
Rohan stepped even closer.
“You’ve been strong too long.”
He opened his arms.
“My shoulder is for you. Hug me. Cry if you need. I’m here.”
Nivi stepped into his arms.
He wrapped her tight — strong, protective.
She pressed herself into his warmth, face against his chest.
The tears came then — silent, years of weight.
He held her. Tighter.
Minutes. His hands on her back — steady, safe.
She felt his heartbeat.
Fast.
Like hers.
They pulled back slowly. Faces inches apart.
Eyes locked.
“My husband doesn’t understand me,” she whispered.
“Unlike you… your wife will be lucky.”
Rohan’s gaze darkened.
He sat at the pool edge, feet in water.
Nivi sat beside him.
He told his story.
Quiet.
“My wife wants me in Kerala. Full time. Leave Chennai, the business here. Build everything there. With her family.”
Nivi listened.
“So we’re travelling the same boat,” she said softly.
“Prem wants to shut my dreams. Go his way.”
“Your wife wants the same with you.”
“Irony.”
They laughed — low, shared.
The city quiet below.
Minutes passed.
Her head rested on his shoulder.
Natural.
“When will our lives go good?” she murmured.
Their faces turned. Lips closer. Closer.
Touch. Electric.
Who started — they didn’t know.
Didn’t care.
The kiss began soft.
A gentle brush of lips — tentative, like the first raindrop testing the surface of still water.
Then hungry.
Deeper. Urgent.
Tongues met — slow at first, exploring, tasting the shared breath of the night.
It turned crazy. Twenty minutes lost in it.
Hands in hair — fingers threading, pulling closer.
Bodies pressed at the pool edge — the cool stone against her back, his warmth against her front.
Breaths mingling — fast, shallow, one rhythm.
The world gone.
Only them. Only this.
They shifted — balance lost in the heat — and slipped together onto the soft cushioned floor beside the pool.
Not a fall. A surrender.
He cushioned her beneath him, careful even in the fire.
She pulled him down, arms around his neck.
They kissed like lovers who had waited years.
Like lovers who had finally found home.
Slow now.
Deep.
Endless.
Her fingers traced his jaw.
His hand cradled her face, thumb brushing her cheek.
No rush.
No end.
Just the quiet sound of water lapping at the pool edge.
And two hearts finally speaking the same language.
When they finally parted — foreheads resting together, breaths still shared — the city lights below seemed brighter.
The night warmer.
And something inside both of them — long quiet — had come alive.
When they finally parted — gasping, foreheads together.
No words.
Just the glow of the pool.
And the knowledge.
The line was crossed.
Irreversibly.
The penthouse suite in Bangalore was quiet, the city lights shimmering below like scattered diamonds.
Nivi stood on the terrace, phone in hand, staring at the pool’s soft glow.
The day had been perfect — deals signed, her name on the company papers, freedom tasting real for the first time.
Then the phone rang.
Prem.
She answered, heart sinking.
His voice came sharp, agitated.
“Nivi? Separate rooms or same room? Put the video on — now.”
Nivi glanced at Rohan inside.
He nodded calmly — Go. Do as he needs.
She switched to video.
Prem’s face filled the screen — tired, eyes narrowed.
“Who’s there with you? Where exactly are you?”
Nivi kept her voice steady. “Separate room. Hotel booked two. I’m alone.”
Prem’s words tumbled. “I trust you. But men — I know how they look at you. Aaravind… Rakesh… I protected you from all that. And now you’re away overnight?”
He ranted — reasons piling up.
Insecurity. Fear. Control dressed as care.
Every word a chain.
Rohan watched from the doorway, silent.
Listening.
The call dragged — Prem demanding proof, questioning timings, blaming the trip.
Finally, Nivi cut it.
“I’m safe. Good night.”
She hung up.
Hands shaking.
She walked back inside, face pale.
Rohan stepped closer.
“You okay?”
She exhaled, eyes wet but fierce.
“He’s like this because of the past. Aaravind. Rakesh. And… Prakash.”
Rohan’s brow lifted slightly.
“What did they do?”
Nivi hesitated.
Then the words came — quiet, heavy.
“Aaravind tried to force himself on me in college. Prem saved me.”
“Rakesh — at the textile shop. Grabbed me. I slapped him.”
“And Prakash…”
Her voice cracked.
“The night he tried. The pill. The bedroom. I woke up… feeling used. But I pretended I didn’t remember. When Prem and I fought once, he dragged Aaravind’s name. I was terrified if he said Prakash… it would destroy him. The guilt of not protecting me.”
She looked at Rohan, tears brimming.
“So I lied. Said I didn’t know. He thinks he spared me trauma by hiding it. But really… I spared him from traumatising me with his reaction.”
Rohan moved nearer.
His presence warm, steady.
“You’ve carried too much alone.”
She nodded, voice breaking.
“These things… they made Prem never trust any man around me. Never.”
Rohan’s voice soft.
“It’s natural. You’re beautiful. If I were your husband… I’d be secured too.”
He paused.
“But not over-insecured. Trust is the base of everything.”
Nivi looked at him — grateful, raw.
He asked gently.
“So you knew about Prakash all along?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I pretended… to protect us both.”
Rohan stepped even closer.
“You’ve been strong too long.”
He opened his arms.
“My shoulder is for you. Hug me. Cry if you need. I’m here.”
Nivi stepped into his arms.
He wrapped her tight — strong, protective.
She pressed herself into his warmth, face against his chest.
The tears came then — silent, years of weight.
He held her. Tighter.
Minutes. His hands on her back — steady, safe.
She felt his heartbeat.
Fast.
Like hers.
They pulled back slowly. Faces inches apart.
Eyes locked.
“My husband doesn’t understand me,” she whispered.
“Unlike you… your wife will be lucky.”
Rohan’s gaze darkened.
He sat at the pool edge, feet in water.
Nivi sat beside him.
He told his story.
Quiet.
“My wife wants me in Kerala. Full time. Leave Chennai, the business here. Build everything there. With her family.”
Nivi listened.
“So we’re travelling the same boat,” she said softly.
“Prem wants to shut my dreams. Go his way.”
“Your wife wants the same with you.”
“Irony.”
They laughed — low, shared.
The city quiet below.
Minutes passed.
Her head rested on his shoulder.
Natural.
“When will our lives go good?” she murmured.
Their faces turned. Lips closer. Closer.
Touch. Electric.
Who started — they didn’t know.
Didn’t care.
The kiss began soft.
A gentle brush of lips — tentative, like the first raindrop testing the surface of still water.
Then hungry.
Deeper. Urgent.
Tongues met — slow at first, exploring, tasting the shared breath of the night.
It turned crazy. Twenty minutes lost in it.
Hands in hair — fingers threading, pulling closer.
Bodies pressed at the pool edge — the cool stone against her back, his warmth against her front.
Breaths mingling — fast, shallow, one rhythm.
The world gone.
Only them. Only this.
They shifted — balance lost in the heat — and slipped together onto the soft cushioned floor beside the pool.
Not a fall. A surrender.
He cushioned her beneath him, careful even in the fire.
She pulled him down, arms around his neck.
They kissed like lovers who had waited years.
Like lovers who had finally found home.
Slow now.
Deep.
Endless.
Her fingers traced his jaw.
His hand cradled her face, thumb brushing her cheek.
No rush.
No end.
Just the quiet sound of water lapping at the pool edge.
And two hearts finally speaking the same language.
When they finally parted — foreheads resting together, breaths still shared — the city lights below seemed brighter.
The night warmer.
And something inside both of them — long quiet — had come alive.
When they finally parted — gasping, foreheads together.
No words.
Just the glow of the pool.
And the knowledge.
The line was crossed.
Irreversibly.
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