Adultery Weekday Wife [COMPLETED]

[Sherlocked]

The evening passed in a blur of distraction. Shweta moved through the house like a sleepwalker, her body present but her mind trapped in the stairwell.


"Shweta?"


She blinked, looking up from her plate at dinner. Ani was watching her, his brow furrowed. "You've barely touched your food. And you seem... lost. Is everything okay?"


Shweta felt a flush of guilt creep up her neck. She forced a small, sad smile. "I'm okay. Just... sad that you're leaving tomorrow. The weekend went too fast."


Ani’s face softened instantly. He reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze, followed by a side hug as he leaned in. "I know. It’s hard for me too. But I'll be back soon."


Shweta nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. She couldn't look him in the eye. And she certainly couldn't look across the table.


She didn't need to look to know Sumu was watching. She could feel his gaze burning into her skin, heavy and demanding. He ate silently, his presence looming large and dark at the table. Every time she reached for the water jug, she felt the weight of his eyes on her wrist, on her neck, stripping away her pretense of normalcy.


The relief was palpable when the men finally finished and went upstairs to their respective rooms. Shweta threw herself into the cleanup, scrubbing the dishes with a manic intensity, grateful for the noise of the running water and the chatter of her mother-in-law and Jethima.


One by one, the lights went out. The elders retreated to their rooms on the ground floor. The house settled into the heavy, suffocating silence of the night, illuminated only by the faint, amber glow of the night lamps in the corridor.


Shweta dried her hands and turned toward the stairs. Her heart began to race again. She had to pass his room to get to hers.


She climbed the stairs slowly, her anklets chiming softly. She reached the second-floor landing. The hallway was dark, save for a slice of yellow light spilling from the slightly ajar door of her own bedroom at the far end.


She took a step toward safety.


Suddenly, a hand shot out from the shadows near the staircase pillar.


"Mmph!"


Before a scream could tear from her throat, she was yanked sideways. She crashed into a wall of hard muscle, the air knocked out of her lungs.


Sumu.


He didn't give her a second to recover. He spun her around and slammed her back against the wall in the narrow, dark recess between the staircase railing and the entrance to the hallway.


Panic exploded in Shweta’s chest. Her eyes darted wildly to her bedroom door, just ten feet away. through the crack, she could see the edge of the bed. She could see Ani’s legs.


*Oh god. He’s right there.*


If Ani woke up, if he walked out to see who made the noise...


Sumu seemed to thrive on the danger. He pressed his entire body against hers, pinning her to the plaster. He grabbed her face with one large hand, his fingers digging into her cheeks, forcing her to look at him in the gloom.


She could feel the trembling of her own body, vibrating against his solidity. He lowered his head, his face looming in the darkness until their noses touched. His breath, smelling faintly of toothpaste, fanned across her lips.


"We should finish what we started in the afternoon," he whispered.


His voice was barely a breath, a low rumble that vibrated straight through her chest bones.


Shweta’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth, a desperate "no" forming on her tongue, but Sumu was faster.


He placed two fingers firmly over her lips, silencing her.


He didn't pull them away. He rubbed her lower lip slowly, pressing into the softness. He traced the shape of her mouth—the mouth he had bruised earlier, the mouth he clearly wanted to devour again.


"Come when he falls asleep," he commanded softly.


The words hung in the air, heavy and absolute.


Then, as suddenly as he had grabbed her, he released her. He stepped back into the shadows of the landing, disappearing toward his room without a backward glance.


Shweta stood frozen against the wall, her legs shaking so hard she thought she might collapse. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm the erratic thumping of her heart. She waited one minute. Two.


She smoothed her saree, took a deep, shuddering breath, and walked into her bedroom.


Ani was dozing, his phone loosely gripped in his hand, the screen casting a pale light on his chin. Shweta walked over and gently pried the device from his fingers, placing it on the bedside table.


Ani stirred, blinking blearily. "Hmm? Shweta? Where were you?"


"I was just helping Ma and Jethima clean up the kitchen," she lied, her voice sounding surprisingly steady to her own ears. She forced a smile, though her facial muscles felt tight.


"Mmm. Okay," Ani mumbled, shifting to make space for her. He patted the mattress. "Come to bed."


Shweta walked to the door. She turned the lock with a soft *click*, the sound echoing the finality of her decision to stay. She switched off the light, plunging the room into darkness, and climbed into the antique bed beside her husband.


Ani immediately rolled toward her. He wrapped his arm heavy around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply.


"Goodnight," he murmured.


"Goodnight," Shweta whispered.


Within minutes, his breathing deepened, shifting into the rhythmic, soft snoring of deep sleep.


But for Shweta, sleep was a distant country.


The ceiling fan whirred overhead, churning the hot air, but it did nothing to cool the fever in her blood. She lay rigid, staring into the dark. Every time she closed her eyes, the images assaulted her.


She saw herself in the white and red puja saree, pressed against the wall. She felt Sumu’s hand disappearing into her waistline. She heard the wet sound of his fingers inside her. She felt the ghost of his erection pressing against her stomach through the metal thali.


*Come when he falls asleep.*


The command replayed in her mind on a loop.


It wasn't just a command; it was a promise. A promise of the fire she craved, the oblivion she needed to escape the suffocating dullness of her life.


She tried to fight it. She thought of Ani, sleeping peacefully beside her, trusting her. She thought of the shame, the risk, the sheer immorality of it.


But then she thought of the fire. She thought of the way Sumu looked at her—like he wanted to consume her whole. She thought of the release she had been denied on the stairs, the pressure building in her lower belly until it was a physical ache.


An hour passed. Then another. The house was dead silent.


Shweta bit her lip until it tasted of iron. She couldn't take it anymore. The heat in her veins was unbearable. She felt like she was going to scream if she didn't move.


Finally, the decision crystallized in her mind. It wasn't a surrender, she told herself. It was a necessity. She would go to him. She would go to his room and tell him to stop. She would tell him this madness had to end, that they couldn't keep playing with fire without burning the whole house down.


Yes. That was why she was going. To end it.


Ani’s sleep was heavy, born of physical labor and trust. Slowly, with agonizing care, she reached for Ani’s arm dbangd across her chest. She lifted it, inch by inch, holding her breath. He grunted softly, shifting his leg, and Shweta froze, her heart stopping.


He settled again, his breathing resuming its heavy rhythm.


She lowered his arm to the mattress. She carefully extracted her legs from where they were tangled with his. She slid to the edge of the bed and placed her feet on the floor.


She stood up, the silence of the room amplifying the rustle of her saree. She took a step.


*Chink.*


Her anklet made a soft sound. She paused, looking back at the bed.


Ani didn't stir. He hugged the pillow she had just vacated, pulling it close to his chest, seeking her warmth in his sleep.


She tiptoed across the room, her breath held tight in her lungs. She reached the door and slid the bolt back with painstaking slowness. She turned the knob.


She slipped out into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind her, leaving her husband sleeping peacefully with a pillow in his arms, while she turned toward the stairs to ascend into the darkness.