Yesterday, 09:59 AM
Chapter 22 – The First Act
The next morning, the apartment felt heavier than usual.
Suresh woke up with a knot in his stomach. He had barely slept. Part of him wanted to back out, to apologize to Sneha and forget everything. But Gowtham’s words kept ringing in his head — Don’t drop your level. Don’t look guilty.
Sneha was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast in silence. She hadn’t spoken more than a few words to him since the confrontation. Her movements were mechanical, cold.
Suresh stood at the kitchen door, watching her for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and spoke.
“Sneha… we need to talk.”
She didn’t turn around. “I don’t want to talk right now.”
He stepped closer.
“I’m serious. This is important for me. For us.”
Sneha finally turned, her eyes sharp with irritation and hurt.
“Important? You think dragging our neighbor into our bedroom problems is ‘important’? You told him everything, Suresh. Everything about your… issue. And then you asked me to do roleplay with his name? Have you lost your mind?”
Her voice rose slightly.
“We were young and adventurous in our early marriage to have those fun, now we are matured, we have a family, grown child.
and now This is crossing every limit. I am not some toy for your fantasies. And involving Gowtham — a boy who calls me Anni — feels disgusting.”
Suresh forced himself to stay firm, exactly as Gowtham had instructed.
“I’m not asking you to sleep with him. I’m asking you to try roleplay. Just words. Just fantasy. Why can’t you understand how badly I’m struggling? Nothing else is working. Medicines, doctors — nothing. This might help me. Why are you being so selfish?”
Sneha stared at him in disbelief, her eyes filling with angry tears.
“Selfish? I have been sleeping with you even when I wasn’t in the mood for years. I have supported you through everything. And now you call me selfish because I don’t want to bring another man into our marriage, even in fantasy?”
She laughed bitterly.
“You have changed, Suresh. I don’t even recognize you anymore.”
The argument grew heated. Suresh raised his voice, sticking to the script.
“You have to at least try. For me. For our marriage.”
Sneha shook her head, wiping her tears angrily.
“I need time. Don’t push me.”
She walked away to Ramya’s room and closed the door.
Suresh stood there, chest tight. The guilt was crushing him… but he didn’t apologize.
Next day
That night, around 9:15 PM, there was a knock on the door.
Sneha opened it. Gowtham stood there with a polite smile.
“Anni, sorry to disturb. Do you have some coffee powder? I ran out.”
Sneha forced a small smile and nodded. “Come in.”
As Gowtham stepped inside, Suresh appeared from the bedroom. The atmosphere was already tense. Sneha gave Suresh a cold glance and went to the kitchen to get the powder.
Suresh saw his chance.
“Why are you behaving like this, Sneha? I told you it’s important for me!”
Sneha came out of the kitchen, irritated.
“Not now, Suresh. Gowtham is here.”
He suddenly raised his voice, loud enough for Gowtham to hear clearly.
The argument escalated quickly. Voices grew louder. Suresh, trying to stay in character, suddenly grabbed a ceramic plate from the dining table and slammed it onto the floor with force.
CRASH!
The plate shattered violently. Sharp pieces flew across the floor.
One jagged piece spun and sliced across Sneha’s bare foot.
“Ahh!” She gasped in pain, instinctively lifting her foot. A small but visible cut appeared, blood slowly welling up.
The moment he stepped inside and saw the scene — broken plate pieces everywhere and Sneha hurt — he moved instantly.
“Anni!”
Gowtham rushed forward without hesitation, ignoring Suresh completely. He knelt in front of Sneha, gently holding her ankle to check the cut.
“Are you okay? Sit down, sit down,” he said urgently, his voice full of concern.
He guided her carefully to the sofa, his strong arm supporting her. Sneha, still in shock and pain, leaned on him slightly as she limped.
Suresh stood frozen near the dining table, watching everything.
Gowtham shot him a sharp, subtle signal with his eyes — Don’t move. Stay there.
From Sneha’s perspective, the scene was devastating.
Her husband — the man who was supposed to protect her — had just broken a plate in anger and was now standing there silently while another man (a younger neighbor) was kneeling in front of her, carefully checking her injured foot.
The protective husband she once knew seemed to have disappeared.
Gowtham looked up at her with genuine-looking worry.
“Anni, it’s a small cut but it’s bleeding. Let me clean it.”
He quickly brought the first-aid box from the shelf (he already knew where it was) and began gently cleaning the wound.
Sneha’s eyes stung with tears — not just from the pain, but from the humiliation and emotional hurt.
Suresh finally spoke, his voice strained but still trying to stay in character.
“I was just asking you… you are making me lose my temper with this attitude. Again I’m telling you — I’m not asking you to sleep with him. This is our game, inside the bedroom. We are just going to use his name.”
Sneha didn’t even look at him. She kept her eyes lowered, lips pressed tightly together.
Gowtham stayed silent, focused on bandaging her foot, playing the perfect supportive neighbor.
Suresh stood there for a few more seconds, feeling a heavy mix of guilt, jealousy, and strange arousal. Then he turned and walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
The moment the door clicked shut, Sneha let out a shaky breath.
Gowtham looked up at her gently.
“Anni… are you okay?”
For the first time, Sneha felt a strange sense of safety with the young man who was kneeling in front of her.
Sneha stumbled back in shock.
The next morning, the apartment felt heavier than usual.
Suresh woke up with a knot in his stomach. He had barely slept. Part of him wanted to back out, to apologize to Sneha and forget everything. But Gowtham’s words kept ringing in his head — Don’t drop your level. Don’t look guilty.
Sneha was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast in silence. She hadn’t spoken more than a few words to him since the confrontation. Her movements were mechanical, cold.
Suresh stood at the kitchen door, watching her for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and spoke.
“Sneha… we need to talk.”
She didn’t turn around. “I don’t want to talk right now.”
He stepped closer.
“I’m serious. This is important for me. For us.”
Sneha finally turned, her eyes sharp with irritation and hurt.
“Important? You think dragging our neighbor into our bedroom problems is ‘important’? You told him everything, Suresh. Everything about your… issue. And then you asked me to do roleplay with his name? Have you lost your mind?”
Her voice rose slightly.
“We were young and adventurous in our early marriage to have those fun, now we are matured, we have a family, grown child.
and now This is crossing every limit. I am not some toy for your fantasies. And involving Gowtham — a boy who calls me Anni — feels disgusting.”
Suresh forced himself to stay firm, exactly as Gowtham had instructed.
“I’m not asking you to sleep with him. I’m asking you to try roleplay. Just words. Just fantasy. Why can’t you understand how badly I’m struggling? Nothing else is working. Medicines, doctors — nothing. This might help me. Why are you being so selfish?”
Sneha stared at him in disbelief, her eyes filling with angry tears.
“Selfish? I have been sleeping with you even when I wasn’t in the mood for years. I have supported you through everything. And now you call me selfish because I don’t want to bring another man into our marriage, even in fantasy?”
She laughed bitterly.
“You have changed, Suresh. I don’t even recognize you anymore.”
The argument grew heated. Suresh raised his voice, sticking to the script.
“You have to at least try. For me. For our marriage.”
Sneha shook her head, wiping her tears angrily.
“I need time. Don’t push me.”
She walked away to Ramya’s room and closed the door.
Suresh stood there, chest tight. The guilt was crushing him… but he didn’t apologize.
Next day
That night, around 9:15 PM, there was a knock on the door.
Sneha opened it. Gowtham stood there with a polite smile.
“Anni, sorry to disturb. Do you have some coffee powder? I ran out.”
Sneha forced a small smile and nodded. “Come in.”
As Gowtham stepped inside, Suresh appeared from the bedroom. The atmosphere was already tense. Sneha gave Suresh a cold glance and went to the kitchen to get the powder.
Suresh saw his chance.
“Why are you behaving like this, Sneha? I told you it’s important for me!”
Sneha came out of the kitchen, irritated.
“Not now, Suresh. Gowtham is here.”
He suddenly raised his voice, loud enough for Gowtham to hear clearly.
The argument escalated quickly. Voices grew louder. Suresh, trying to stay in character, suddenly grabbed a ceramic plate from the dining table and slammed it onto the floor with force.
CRASH!
The plate shattered violently. Sharp pieces flew across the floor.
One jagged piece spun and sliced across Sneha’s bare foot.
“Ahh!” She gasped in pain, instinctively lifting her foot. A small but visible cut appeared, blood slowly welling up.
The moment he stepped inside and saw the scene — broken plate pieces everywhere and Sneha hurt — he moved instantly.
“Anni!”
Gowtham rushed forward without hesitation, ignoring Suresh completely. He knelt in front of Sneha, gently holding her ankle to check the cut.
“Are you okay? Sit down, sit down,” he said urgently, his voice full of concern.
He guided her carefully to the sofa, his strong arm supporting her. Sneha, still in shock and pain, leaned on him slightly as she limped.
Suresh stood frozen near the dining table, watching everything.
Gowtham shot him a sharp, subtle signal with his eyes — Don’t move. Stay there.
From Sneha’s perspective, the scene was devastating.
Her husband — the man who was supposed to protect her — had just broken a plate in anger and was now standing there silently while another man (a younger neighbor) was kneeling in front of her, carefully checking her injured foot.
The protective husband she once knew seemed to have disappeared.
Gowtham looked up at her with genuine-looking worry.
“Anni, it’s a small cut but it’s bleeding. Let me clean it.”
He quickly brought the first-aid box from the shelf (he already knew where it was) and began gently cleaning the wound.
Sneha’s eyes stung with tears — not just from the pain, but from the humiliation and emotional hurt.
Suresh finally spoke, his voice strained but still trying to stay in character.
“I was just asking you… you are making me lose my temper with this attitude. Again I’m telling you — I’m not asking you to sleep with him. This is our game, inside the bedroom. We are just going to use his name.”
Sneha didn’t even look at him. She kept her eyes lowered, lips pressed tightly together.
Gowtham stayed silent, focused on bandaging her foot, playing the perfect supportive neighbor.
Suresh stood there for a few more seconds, feeling a heavy mix of guilt, jealousy, and strange arousal. Then he turned and walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
The moment the door clicked shut, Sneha let out a shaky breath.
Gowtham looked up at her gently.
“Anni… are you okay?”
For the first time, Sneha felt a strange sense of safety with the young man who was kneeling in front of her.
Sneha stumbled back in shock.
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