13-08-2026, 11:36 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-09-2026, 02:11 PM by Authorsunny.)
Chapter 10 Continued
She picked up her phone, typed something, and then placed it face down.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a thick quiet. I opened my laptop and tried to finish a module. She lay on the bed scrolling through her phone. Every few minutes the screen lit up with a message. She replied to some of them. Once she smiled at the screen and shifted her legs. The nighty rode up a little on her thighs. She did not pull it down.
At around five-thirty her phone rang again. This time she answered it on speaker without warning.
Azad bhai's voice filled the small room, low and clear.
“You are free now?”
“Yes. He is working on his laptop.”
“Tell him to put the earphones on. I want to talk properly.”
Ma looked at me. I did not move. She did not repeat the request. She simply continued the conversation with the speaker still on.
“I am listening.”
“What are you wearing?”
She glanced at me again, then answered in a voice that was quieter but still fully audible.
“The old nighty. Nothing underneath.”
There was a short silence on the other end. Then his voice came, lower.
“You know what that does to me when you say it like that.”
Ma’s cheeks coloured, but she did not switch the speaker off.
“I know. You tell me every time.”
“Come down for some time after it gets dark. I will be in the car. We can sit for a while.”
“I will see. He is home.”
“Then send him somewhere. Or come after he sleeps.”
Ma’s eyes flicked toward me. I was staring at the laptop screen without seeing anything. She spoke again, still on speaker.
“I will message you.”
“Wear the black kurti when you come. The one I like.”
“I know which one.”
She ended the call. The sudden silence in the room felt louder than the conversation that had just taken place.
I closed the laptop.
“You put him on speaker on purpose.”
She did not pretend otherwise.
“I did not feel like hiding the call. You already heard the earlier one. What difference does it make now?”
“You told him you are wearing nothing underneath.”
“It is the truth. It is hot. I removed the bra. Are you going to decide what I wear inside the house also?”
Her voice remained even, but there was a new shamelessness in the way she stated it. She was no longer careful with the edges of what I heard.
I stood up. The chair made a scbanging sound on the floor.
“This flat is too small for these conversations, Ma.”
“Then go out for some time if it bothers you. Sit at the café. Take a walk. I did not ask you to stay and listen.”
The suggestion that I should leave my own house so she could continue speaking to him more freely landed with a quiet finality.
I took my wallet and phone and left without another word. I walked to the juice centre near the station and sat there with a glass of sugarcane that I did not finish. The sky turned orange and then a dull grey. At seven-forty I started walking back.
When I reached the building, I could see his white sedan parked. The passenger seat was empty. I climbed the stairs slowly. The door of our flat was unlocked. Inside, the tube light was on. Ma was not there.
Her phone was on the bed. The old nighty she had changed into was lying on the chair.
I sat on the edge of the bed and waited.
She returned at nine-ten. Her hair was slightly open and messy. The black kurti looked a little more wrinkled than when she had left. There was a faint reddish mark on the left side of her neck, just above the collarbone, partially hidden by the neckline. She saw me looking at it and did not cover it immediately.
“You came back,” she said.
“Yes.”
She removed her sandals and went to the kitchen corner to drink water. When she lifted the glass the mark on her neck became clearer under the tube light. It was the kind of mark that did not come from a seatbelt or a rough collar.
She kept the glass down and turned.
“He asked me to sit in the car for some time. We talked. That is all.”
“There is a mark on your neck.”
She raised her hand and touched the spot lightly with two fingers, as if confirming it was still there. Then she dropped her hand.
“It will fade by morning. Do not make a story out of it.”
“You went down after telling me to leave the house.”
“I went down because I wanted to. You left because you did not want to hear the conversation. Both things can be true at the same time.”
She walked past me to the bathroom. This time she closed the door more firmly than usual. When she came out she was in the same old nighty again. The mark on her neck was still visible above the neckline. She made no attempt to hide it with powder or by adjusting the cloth.
She sat on the bed and looked at me.
“Sunny, I am going to say this once more tonight. Azad ji is part of my life now in a way that is not going to stop. He does not come here with excuses. He does not pretend. When he wants to speak to me, he speaks. When he wants me to come down, I decide whether I will go. You can stay and listen, or you can go out, or you can sit with that face you are making right now. But you cannot stop what is already happening.”
The words were steady. There was no apology inside them.
She lay down on her side, phone under the pillow, the reddish mark still clear on her skin. I switched off the main light and sat on the chair in the dark for a long time.
The favouritism was open.
The first shameless acts had stepped into the room without any attempt to lower the volume.
And the small flat held both the mark on her neck and the silence that followed it, as if the walls themselves had already accepted the new order of things.
She picked up her phone, typed something, and then placed it face down.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a thick quiet. I opened my laptop and tried to finish a module. She lay on the bed scrolling through her phone. Every few minutes the screen lit up with a message. She replied to some of them. Once she smiled at the screen and shifted her legs. The nighty rode up a little on her thighs. She did not pull it down.
At around five-thirty her phone rang again. This time she answered it on speaker without warning.
Azad bhai's voice filled the small room, low and clear.
“You are free now?”
“Yes. He is working on his laptop.”
“Tell him to put the earphones on. I want to talk properly.”
Ma looked at me. I did not move. She did not repeat the request. She simply continued the conversation with the speaker still on.
“I am listening.”
“What are you wearing?”
She glanced at me again, then answered in a voice that was quieter but still fully audible.
“The old nighty. Nothing underneath.”
There was a short silence on the other end. Then his voice came, lower.
“You know what that does to me when you say it like that.”
Ma’s cheeks coloured, but she did not switch the speaker off.
“I know. You tell me every time.”
“Come down for some time after it gets dark. I will be in the car. We can sit for a while.”
“I will see. He is home.”
“Then send him somewhere. Or come after he sleeps.”
Ma’s eyes flicked toward me. I was staring at the laptop screen without seeing anything. She spoke again, still on speaker.
“I will message you.”
“Wear the black kurti when you come. The one I like.”
“I know which one.”
She ended the call. The sudden silence in the room felt louder than the conversation that had just taken place.
I closed the laptop.
“You put him on speaker on purpose.”
She did not pretend otherwise.
“I did not feel like hiding the call. You already heard the earlier one. What difference does it make now?”
“You told him you are wearing nothing underneath.”
“It is the truth. It is hot. I removed the bra. Are you going to decide what I wear inside the house also?”
Her voice remained even, but there was a new shamelessness in the way she stated it. She was no longer careful with the edges of what I heard.
I stood up. The chair made a scbanging sound on the floor.
“This flat is too small for these conversations, Ma.”
“Then go out for some time if it bothers you. Sit at the café. Take a walk. I did not ask you to stay and listen.”
The suggestion that I should leave my own house so she could continue speaking to him more freely landed with a quiet finality.
I took my wallet and phone and left without another word. I walked to the juice centre near the station and sat there with a glass of sugarcane that I did not finish. The sky turned orange and then a dull grey. At seven-forty I started walking back.
When I reached the building, I could see his white sedan parked. The passenger seat was empty. I climbed the stairs slowly. The door of our flat was unlocked. Inside, the tube light was on. Ma was not there.
Her phone was on the bed. The old nighty she had changed into was lying on the chair.
I sat on the edge of the bed and waited.
She returned at nine-ten. Her hair was slightly open and messy. The black kurti looked a little more wrinkled than when she had left. There was a faint reddish mark on the left side of her neck, just above the collarbone, partially hidden by the neckline. She saw me looking at it and did not cover it immediately.
“You came back,” she said.
“Yes.”
She removed her sandals and went to the kitchen corner to drink water. When she lifted the glass the mark on her neck became clearer under the tube light. It was the kind of mark that did not come from a seatbelt or a rough collar.
She kept the glass down and turned.
“He asked me to sit in the car for some time. We talked. That is all.”
“There is a mark on your neck.”
She raised her hand and touched the spot lightly with two fingers, as if confirming it was still there. Then she dropped her hand.
“It will fade by morning. Do not make a story out of it.”
“You went down after telling me to leave the house.”
“I went down because I wanted to. You left because you did not want to hear the conversation. Both things can be true at the same time.”
She walked past me to the bathroom. This time she closed the door more firmly than usual. When she came out she was in the same old nighty again. The mark on her neck was still visible above the neckline. She made no attempt to hide it with powder or by adjusting the cloth.
She sat on the bed and looked at me.
“Sunny, I am going to say this once more tonight. Azad ji is part of my life now in a way that is not going to stop. He does not come here with excuses. He does not pretend. When he wants to speak to me, he speaks. When he wants me to come down, I decide whether I will go. You can stay and listen, or you can go out, or you can sit with that face you are making right now. But you cannot stop what is already happening.”
The words were steady. There was no apology inside them.
She lay down on her side, phone under the pillow, the reddish mark still clear on her skin. I switched off the main light and sat on the chair in the dark for a long time.
The favouritism was open.
The first shameless acts had stepped into the room without any attempt to lower the volume.
And the small flat held both the mark on her neck and the silence that followed it, as if the walls themselves had already accepted the new order of things.
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