24-12-2025, 07:39 PM
Chapter 34 -- Continuation...
The flight home was quiet — the hum of engines and occasional announcements the only sounds breaking the silence between them.
Nivi stared out the window, clouds drifting below like forgotten thoughts.
Torn.
Guilt gnawing, Prem's messages burning in her mind — his sudden change, the love pouring out when she had just...
She glanced at Rohan beside her — calm, reading a magazine, as if the night hadn't shattered everything.
She shook his hand under the armrest — small, hesitant.
“We should stop.”
Her voice barely audible.
Rohan caught it — fingers curling around hers, firm but gentle.
“Whatever you want. I’m with you.”
No argument. No push. Just acceptance.
The words eased and tightened at once.
Airport arrival — bustle of Chennai evening.
They collected luggage.
Prem waiting in the lounge — sudden, unexpected.
Spotted her.
Kneeled dramatically — bouquet of roses thrust forward.
"Nivi... welcome home."
Passersby glanced, some smiling at the gesture.
Nivi struggled to smile — face tight, forced curve of lips.
Panic rising — heart pounding. She was not at all ready to face his face due to guilt but this... she doesn't deserve she know...
He came... after everything.. that i should not have done.....
She didn't deserve this — the flowers, the kneel, the hope in his eyes.
Guilt crashed harder.
But the moment she decided — anger as shield, to cover herself, avoid breaking in front of him.
“Stop it, Prem… embarrassing…”
Tone sharp — cutting, covering the tremor in her throat, the fear threatening to spill.
She moved ahead quickly, eyes down, steps hurried.
Prem doesn't know his wife’s infidelity with her colleague now — the nights, the touches, the surrender.
He's beaming, thinking it's shyness.
He stood, confused but beaming wider. “Car that way!”
She turned back — to Rohan lingering with his bag, expression neutral.
“How will you go?”
Voice small, almost pleading — needing him there, buffer, safety.
Alone with Prem — questions, closeness, guilt face-to-face — unbearable.
Rohan calm, expression neutral.
“Your husband came to pick you. Not his friend.”
Prem flushed — pleased at the "friend" acknowledgment, warmth spreading.
“No, no — both. Come!”
Rohan nodded politely. “It’s okay. I’ll take mine.. You guys forget my car is parked there...”
Nivi fearing — lacking confidence, body still remembering touches, the ache between thighs, mind spinning lies to hold together.
Alone with Prem — the drive, the home, the bed they shared.
She wanted Rohan to accompany her at least until home — delay the reckoning.
As Prem went to parking...
Rohan leaned close, voice low, urgent — breath warm on her ear.
“It’s up to us — show or hide.”
“Your face, body language — tells everything wrong.”
“Be yourself. I’m just colleague. We just coming after a business meet.”
“Forget things that bothering your mind. Consider our sex as a dream.”
“Tomorrow we have meets with new clients. Meet tonight — dinner table. Keep the files ready.”
Focus on your career — that's the only way to distract yourself until you choose to practice handling personal chaos.
He walked away — stride confident, disappearing into crowd.
Prem’s car pulled up.
Nivi got in.
Bouquet heavy on lap — thorns pricking through paper, unnoticed.
Prem smiling wide — hopeful, loving, chatting about Aara, dinner plans.
She forced one back — tight, mechanical, eyes on the road.
Drive home began.
Silence from her.
Rohan, meanwhile, boarded his Mercedes in the airport parking — driver holding the door, engine purring softly.
He settled in the back seat, phone already in hand.
Dialed a number from memory.
The person on the other side answered promptly.
"Yes, sir."
Rohan's voice low, precise.
"Check all the agreements... files at Nivisha's office. Before madam comes in tomorrow."
A brief pause.
"Look for any identity proof of mine — passport copy, PAN, anything with my birth date."
"Make a duplicate. Backdate it to yesterday as my birthday."
The person hesitated. "Okay, sir... but why, sir?"
Rohan gazed out the window, city blurring past.
"Someone believes it was my birthday yesterday. They should not know I lied."
"Especially Nivisha."
He ended the call — sharp click.
Leaned back.
A small smile.
The web tightening.
Carefully.
Perfectly.
The flight home was quiet — the hum of engines and occasional announcements the only sounds breaking the silence between them.
Nivi stared out the window, clouds drifting below like forgotten thoughts.
Torn.
Guilt gnawing, Prem's messages burning in her mind — his sudden change, the love pouring out when she had just...
She glanced at Rohan beside her — calm, reading a magazine, as if the night hadn't shattered everything.
She shook his hand under the armrest — small, hesitant.
“We should stop.”
Her voice barely audible.
Rohan caught it — fingers curling around hers, firm but gentle.
“Whatever you want. I’m with you.”
No argument. No push. Just acceptance.
The words eased and tightened at once.
Airport arrival — bustle of Chennai evening.
They collected luggage.
Prem waiting in the lounge — sudden, unexpected.
Spotted her.
Kneeled dramatically — bouquet of roses thrust forward.
"Nivi... welcome home."
Passersby glanced, some smiling at the gesture.
Nivi struggled to smile — face tight, forced curve of lips.
Panic rising — heart pounding. She was not at all ready to face his face due to guilt but this... she doesn't deserve she know...
He came... after everything.. that i should not have done.....
She didn't deserve this — the flowers, the kneel, the hope in his eyes.
Guilt crashed harder.
But the moment she decided — anger as shield, to cover herself, avoid breaking in front of him.
“Stop it, Prem… embarrassing…”
Tone sharp — cutting, covering the tremor in her throat, the fear threatening to spill.
She moved ahead quickly, eyes down, steps hurried.
Prem doesn't know his wife’s infidelity with her colleague now — the nights, the touches, the surrender.
He's beaming, thinking it's shyness.
He stood, confused but beaming wider. “Car that way!”
She turned back — to Rohan lingering with his bag, expression neutral.
“How will you go?”
Voice small, almost pleading — needing him there, buffer, safety.
Alone with Prem — questions, closeness, guilt face-to-face — unbearable.
Rohan calm, expression neutral.
“Your husband came to pick you. Not his friend.”
Prem flushed — pleased at the "friend" acknowledgment, warmth spreading.
“No, no — both. Come!”
Rohan nodded politely. “It’s okay. I’ll take mine.. You guys forget my car is parked there...”
Nivi fearing — lacking confidence, body still remembering touches, the ache between thighs, mind spinning lies to hold together.
Alone with Prem — the drive, the home, the bed they shared.
She wanted Rohan to accompany her at least until home — delay the reckoning.
As Prem went to parking...
Rohan leaned close, voice low, urgent — breath warm on her ear.
“It’s up to us — show or hide.”
“Your face, body language — tells everything wrong.”
“Be yourself. I’m just colleague. We just coming after a business meet.”
“Forget things that bothering your mind. Consider our sex as a dream.”
“Tomorrow we have meets with new clients. Meet tonight — dinner table. Keep the files ready.”
Focus on your career — that's the only way to distract yourself until you choose to practice handling personal chaos.
He walked away — stride confident, disappearing into crowd.
Prem’s car pulled up.
Nivi got in.
Bouquet heavy on lap — thorns pricking through paper, unnoticed.
Prem smiling wide — hopeful, loving, chatting about Aara, dinner plans.
She forced one back — tight, mechanical, eyes on the road.
Drive home began.
Silence from her.
Rohan, meanwhile, boarded his Mercedes in the airport parking — driver holding the door, engine purring softly.
He settled in the back seat, phone already in hand.
Dialed a number from memory.
The person on the other side answered promptly.
"Yes, sir."
Rohan's voice low, precise.
"Check all the agreements... files at Nivisha's office. Before madam comes in tomorrow."
A brief pause.
"Look for any identity proof of mine — passport copy, PAN, anything with my birth date."
"Make a duplicate. Backdate it to yesterday as my birthday."
The person hesitated. "Okay, sir... but why, sir?"
Rohan gazed out the window, city blurring past.
"Someone believes it was my birthday yesterday. They should not know I lied."
"Especially Nivisha."
He ended the call — sharp click.
Leaned back.
A small smile.
The web tightening.
Carefully.
Perfectly.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)