26-12-2025, 01:28 AM
(This post was last modified: 26-12-2025, 01:40 AM by shailu4ever. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
The Night She Couldn’t Forgive Herself
Priya lay motionless in the dark, her body still faintly trembling, still echoing with sensations she did not want to remember, still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm, but her mind was a storm.
The room was quiet, too quiet, broken only by the soft, rhythmic sound of Amit’s breathing beside her. His chest rose and fell steadily, peacefully, as if the world had not shifted beneath her feet just moments ago.
His arm rested around her waist, familiar and warm, a gesture that had once made her feel safe. Tonight, it felt like a weight she did not deserve to carry.
Her eyes remained open, fixed on the darkness above, unblinking. Her body had found release, but her soul felt heavier than ever. The warmth between her thighs faded slowly, replaced by a hollow ache that spread through her chest and settled deep in her stomach.
“What have I done?”
The question echoed inside her, sharp and relentless.
She tried to focus on Amit, on the man beside her, on the husband who loved her, who trusted her without question.
She listened to his breathing, counted it, clung to it, hoping it would anchor her. He had no idea. He was asleep, content, believing everything between them was as it should be.
That thought alone made her throat tighten.
Guilt rose in her chest like poison, thick and suffocating. It crawled upward, burning her throat, making it hard to breathe.
“How could I let this happen?”
“How could I betray him like this?”
Her mind refused to stay still. It dragged her backward, replaying moments she wished she could erase.
The movie theater.
The dim lights. The closeness. Ravi sitting beside her.
The accidental brush of fingers.
The pause that followed.
The way her breath had caught when he didn’t pull away.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but it only made the images clearer.
“I should have moved.”
“I should have stopped him.”
But she hadn’t.
Priya lay motionless in the dark, her body still faintly trembling, still echoing with sensations she did not want to remember, still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasm, but her mind was a storm.
The room was quiet, too quiet, broken only by the soft, rhythmic sound of Amit’s breathing beside her. His chest rose and fell steadily, peacefully, as if the world had not shifted beneath her feet just moments ago.
His arm rested around her waist, familiar and warm, a gesture that had once made her feel safe. Tonight, it felt like a weight she did not deserve to carry.
Her eyes remained open, fixed on the darkness above, unblinking. Her body had found release, but her soul felt heavier than ever. The warmth between her thighs faded slowly, replaced by a hollow ache that spread through her chest and settled deep in her stomach.
“What have I done?”
The question echoed inside her, sharp and relentless.
She tried to focus on Amit, on the man beside her, on the husband who loved her, who trusted her without question.
She listened to his breathing, counted it, clung to it, hoping it would anchor her. He had no idea. He was asleep, content, believing everything between them was as it should be.
That thought alone made her throat tighten.
Guilt rose in her chest like poison, thick and suffocating. It crawled upward, burning her throat, making it hard to breathe.
“How could I let this happen?”
“How could I betray him like this?”
Her mind refused to stay still. It dragged her backward, replaying moments she wished she could erase.
The movie theater.
The dim lights. The closeness. Ravi sitting beside her.
The accidental brush of fingers.
The pause that followed.
The way her breath had caught when he didn’t pull away.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but it only made the images clearer.
“I should have moved.”
“I should have stopped him.”
But she hadn’t.
.


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