24-05-2026, 11:14 PM
The pale light of dawn creeps into the car windshield, but inside Lokesh’s mind, the timeline of the previous night is a blurred, agonizing puzzle.
Three blocks away, Karthik stares at the pavement, the intoxicating memory playing in high definition behind his eyes.
This is what *actually* happened three hours earlier, beneath the haze of the alcohol and the quiet betrayal of the night.
Chapter 22:The Flashback: 2:15 AM
The house was dead silent except for the low murmur of Lokesh’s voice from the dining room, slurring a story about work.
Karthik had stood up from the table, muttering something about needing the restroom. The liquor had hit him hard—a heavy, warm fog that blurred the edges of his vision but amplified his impulses.
He staggered down the dimly lit hallway. The main bathroom was straight ahead, but as he passed the guest room, he noticed a sliver of warm light spilling onto the hardwood floor. The door was half-open, unlatched.
It started as a genuine accident.
His hand caught the frame to steady his clumsy balance. The door swung inward a few inches with a faint, oiled glide. Through the gap, the steam from the attached bathroom was already billowing out, carrying the sweet, floral scent of Divya’s shampoo.
And then, he saw her.
Shruthi was stepping out of the shower cubicle to reach for a towel. The frosted glass door was slid back, and in the soft, glowing light of the bathroom, she was completely exposed. Her skin was glistening with water droplets, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders.
Karthik’s breath hitched in his throat. The fog in his brain instantly cleared, replaced by a sharp, electric shock of adrenaline.
He knew he should turn around. He knew he should close the door, walk away, and carry the accidental glimpse to his grave.
But he didn't move..
Instead, a quiet, reckless compulsion took over. He stepped completely inside the guest bedroom, his bare feet making no sound on the rug. He stood in the shadows of the bedroom, entirely concealed, staring through the open bathroom door.
Seconds stretched into minutes. He watched her dry her shoulders, completely lost in a trance. In the sterile light of the bathroom, Shruthi looked beautiful—a soft, vulnerable version of the woman he usually only saw across dinner tables or in crowded bars. The initial shock mutated into a deep, possessive fascination.
The boundary of friendship didn't just blur; it dissolved entirely. He stayed far longer than any accident could justify, drinking in the sight of friends wife.
Then, Shruthi turned her head toward the mirror, her eyes scanning the room.
Panic finally struck him.
Karthik backed away blindly, his heel catching the edge of the bedroom door. As he pulled himself out into the hallway, his fingers slipped on the brass doorknob.
*Click.*
The lock mechanism snapped shut too loudly in the quiet house.
Karthik didn't look back. He sprinted on his tiptoes to the living room couch, diving onto it, pulling the throw blanket over his shoulders, and forcing his breathing to slow down just as Shruthi’s panicked voice cut through the guest room door.
Back to the Present
In the morning light, Karthik rubs his face, his hands still trembling slightly. It hadn't been a mistake. He had crossed a line he could never uncross, and the memory of her in the steam was now permanently burned into his mind.
And the most dangerous part? Shruthi was currently tearing her marriage apart to protect him from the truth.
Three blocks away, Karthik stares at the pavement, the intoxicating memory playing in high definition behind his eyes.
This is what *actually* happened three hours earlier, beneath the haze of the alcohol and the quiet betrayal of the night.
Chapter 22:The Flashback: 2:15 AM
The house was dead silent except for the low murmur of Lokesh’s voice from the dining room, slurring a story about work.
Karthik had stood up from the table, muttering something about needing the restroom. The liquor had hit him hard—a heavy, warm fog that blurred the edges of his vision but amplified his impulses.
He staggered down the dimly lit hallway. The main bathroom was straight ahead, but as he passed the guest room, he noticed a sliver of warm light spilling onto the hardwood floor. The door was half-open, unlatched.
It started as a genuine accident.
His hand caught the frame to steady his clumsy balance. The door swung inward a few inches with a faint, oiled glide. Through the gap, the steam from the attached bathroom was already billowing out, carrying the sweet, floral scent of Divya’s shampoo.
And then, he saw her.
Shruthi was stepping out of the shower cubicle to reach for a towel. The frosted glass door was slid back, and in the soft, glowing light of the bathroom, she was completely exposed. Her skin was glistening with water droplets, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders.
Karthik’s breath hitched in his throat. The fog in his brain instantly cleared, replaced by a sharp, electric shock of adrenaline.
He knew he should turn around. He knew he should close the door, walk away, and carry the accidental glimpse to his grave.
But he didn't move..
Instead, a quiet, reckless compulsion took over. He stepped completely inside the guest bedroom, his bare feet making no sound on the rug. He stood in the shadows of the bedroom, entirely concealed, staring through the open bathroom door.
Seconds stretched into minutes. He watched her dry her shoulders, completely lost in a trance. In the sterile light of the bathroom, Shruthi looked beautiful—a soft, vulnerable version of the woman he usually only saw across dinner tables or in crowded bars. The initial shock mutated into a deep, possessive fascination.
The boundary of friendship didn't just blur; it dissolved entirely. He stayed far longer than any accident could justify, drinking in the sight of friends wife.
Then, Shruthi turned her head toward the mirror, her eyes scanning the room.
Panic finally struck him.
Karthik backed away blindly, his heel catching the edge of the bedroom door. As he pulled himself out into the hallway, his fingers slipped on the brass doorknob.
*Click.*
The lock mechanism snapped shut too loudly in the quiet house.
Karthik didn't look back. He sprinted on his tiptoes to the living room couch, diving onto it, pulling the throw blanket over his shoulders, and forcing his breathing to slow down just as Shruthi’s panicked voice cut through the guest room door.
Back to the Present
In the morning light, Karthik rubs his face, his hands still trembling slightly. It hadn't been a mistake. He had crossed a line he could never uncross, and the memory of her in the steam was now permanently burned into his mind.
And the most dangerous part? Shruthi was currently tearing her marriage apart to protect him from the truth.
-Pickup, drop, escape.
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