10-04-2026, 06:55 PM
Chapter 69: The Quiet Months
Almost a month passed, and Anandhi could not find a single trace of Rahul.
She searched everywhere she could think of — old contacts in Mumbai, hospitals, even quietly asking around the scientist’s known circles through Suriya’s connections. Every lead went cold. Rahul had vanished completely, as if he had never existed in his young form.
Suriya, to be honest, did not fully try. Deep down, he feared that if they found Rahul, Anandhi would choose him forever. He waited till the 100 days officially ended, silently hoping the chapter would close. When the deadline passed without any sign, Anandhi mentally prepared herself to accept the truth. But deep inside, she always felt the night she should not have had sex with Rahul — that one farewell night — was the reason he left.
Anandhi and Suriya now shared the same bed every night. But they didn’t have sex. The same place that had once been a back-to-back week of sex marathon had become a quiet sanctuary only for crying and consoling. She would lie in his arms, tears silently falling, and he would hold her tightly, stroking her hair, whispering that everything would be okay. The passion had been replaced by a heavy, tender silence.
Fifty-plus days passed.
The apartment owner had sold the building to a new builder. Suriya bought a house on the outskirts — a big, independent villa with a garden and open space. It was far too large for just the four of them, but he wanted a fresh start, a place where Anandhi could breathe and heal. They moved there quietly.
While shifting things, Suriya noticed the hidden camera Rahul had installed. His jaw tightened. He feared what if Rahul was still alive, still watching them. Without telling Anandhi, he crushed the camera under his foot and hid the pieces.
Anandhi slowly came out from the constant thoughts of Rahul. The new house gave her new reasons to move forward — a bigger space for the kids to play, a garden where she could sit and think, a kitchen where she could cook again. But she still hid her obvious relationship with Suriya from the kids. They still had stolen moments, not for sex, but for comfort. They slept together only after making sure the kids were deep in sleep.
One night, when she was crying too much, Suriya pulled her close and kissed her — not with hunger, but to console her. That was the only intimate moment they had in weeks. It was soft, lingering, full of unspoken love and patience.
Weekly once, Suriya took her and the kids to different places — sometimes in and around Mumbai, sometimes a short trip to Kolkata — partly to find any trace of Rahul, partly as a holiday for the children. Anandhi felt guilty for not treating Suriya better. As two months passed, she realised staying like this — emotionally distant, sexually frozen — was not helping anyone.
One quiet evening in their new villa, after the kids had gone to bed, she finally spoke.
She spoke what she thought, she doesnt want to punish suriya who had been waiting for her for years, now for months.
She finally hesitatingly uttered that word with so much of internal turmoil.
“Let’s get married,”
Almost a month passed, and Anandhi could not find a single trace of Rahul.
She searched everywhere she could think of — old contacts in Mumbai, hospitals, even quietly asking around the scientist’s known circles through Suriya’s connections. Every lead went cold. Rahul had vanished completely, as if he had never existed in his young form.
Suriya, to be honest, did not fully try. Deep down, he feared that if they found Rahul, Anandhi would choose him forever. He waited till the 100 days officially ended, silently hoping the chapter would close. When the deadline passed without any sign, Anandhi mentally prepared herself to accept the truth. But deep inside, she always felt the night she should not have had sex with Rahul — that one farewell night — was the reason he left.
Anandhi and Suriya now shared the same bed every night. But they didn’t have sex. The same place that had once been a back-to-back week of sex marathon had become a quiet sanctuary only for crying and consoling. She would lie in his arms, tears silently falling, and he would hold her tightly, stroking her hair, whispering that everything would be okay. The passion had been replaced by a heavy, tender silence.
Fifty-plus days passed.
The apartment owner had sold the building to a new builder. Suriya bought a house on the outskirts — a big, independent villa with a garden and open space. It was far too large for just the four of them, but he wanted a fresh start, a place where Anandhi could breathe and heal. They moved there quietly.
While shifting things, Suriya noticed the hidden camera Rahul had installed. His jaw tightened. He feared what if Rahul was still alive, still watching them. Without telling Anandhi, he crushed the camera under his foot and hid the pieces.
Anandhi slowly came out from the constant thoughts of Rahul. The new house gave her new reasons to move forward — a bigger space for the kids to play, a garden where she could sit and think, a kitchen where she could cook again. But she still hid her obvious relationship with Suriya from the kids. They still had stolen moments, not for sex, but for comfort. They slept together only after making sure the kids were deep in sleep.
One night, when she was crying too much, Suriya pulled her close and kissed her — not with hunger, but to console her. That was the only intimate moment they had in weeks. It was soft, lingering, full of unspoken love and patience.
Weekly once, Suriya took her and the kids to different places — sometimes in and around Mumbai, sometimes a short trip to Kolkata — partly to find any trace of Rahul, partly as a holiday for the children. Anandhi felt guilty for not treating Suriya better. As two months passed, she realised staying like this — emotionally distant, sexually frozen — was not helping anyone.
One quiet evening in their new villa, after the kids had gone to bed, she finally spoke.
She spoke what she thought, she doesnt want to punish suriya who had been waiting for her for years, now for months.
She finally hesitatingly uttered that word with so much of internal turmoil.
“Let’s get married,”
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