A Chapter of Nightmare
Chapter One
I am Manav. I work in a tire threading shop in Solapur. My wife, Shubha, used to work in a popular money lending company. We were in the third year of our marriage, but we did not have any children. In the second year of our marriage, Shubha was pregnant, but unfortunately, it ended in miscarriage. So after that, we decided to take a break of two years before trying to become parents again. However, in the third year, I decided to construct a new house due to pressure from my parents, and I had to take a house building loan. By the time the construction finished, I was deep in debt. But I was confident in getting rid of it since both my wife and I were earning sufficiently. Our collective contribution was necessary to make the EMIs on time.
Three months after the housewarming of our new house, Shubha's company shut down her branch and transferred its entire staff to different branches. A few of them were lucky to receive assignments in nearby cities, but others were sent to long distances like Satara, Latur, Kalaburagi, etc. Unfortunately, my wife was particularly unlucky and shocked to know that her transfer was to Hyderabad. I was equally shocked because it was not only 300 km away from my hometown but also in another state.
Shubha had the option to leave her job, but as I mentioned, our EMIs were not going to let her do that. Both my wife and I knew our exact situations, so we convinced ourselves and our parents that there was no other way. Our only hope was that after working in Hyderabad for a couple of years, Shubha could be transferred back to Solapur or any nearby place.
So Shubha packed her bags and went to Hyderabad. I was going to accompany her. Unfortunately, my manager's wife had a premature delivery at that time, and he was busy in the hospital. Being the next senior staff, I was left to look after the shop's operations. I couldn't even help Shubha in packing.
Shubha was tense about doing it alone, but I encouraged her to handle it independently. She was not only beautiful but also smart, and she quickly overcame the tension and eventually boarded the train to Hyderabad. Before that, she had contacted her Hyderabad office, and her colleagues had promised to help her find accommodation.
My manager returned to work only after three weeks, and that's when I finally got the chance to go to Hyderabad and see how Shubha was coping with her new challenge. She would call me every day, even crying on the phone many times. I tried my best to help her, boosting her confidence all the time.
By the time I visited her for the first time, she was doing alright. She had rented a small 1BHK flat a few kilometers from her office. She had arranged for a gas connection and purchased basic crockery to live comfortably. I was happy to see that she was doing well.
I stayed with her for two days. On the second day, her colleague visited us, and Shubha introduced him to me. His name was Sethu. Apart from being her colleague, Sethu had become a very good friend of hers. He was the one who helped her find the flat and set up everything there. She had only good things to talk about him, and I thanked him wholeheartedly for all the help.
Gradually, we adjusted to our new life. We would meet twice every month; once I would go to stay with Shubha, and the next time she would travel to me. Those four days were truly the highlight of our month, filled with happiness and contentment. In between those visits, I would count down the days and nights until we could be together again. Despite the two-week gap, our bond grew stronger, and our intimacy deepened. We cherished every moment and never missed an opportunity to express our love during those times. In other words, we made love every night during those precious four days.
During my visits to Hyderabad, I met her office friend Sethu many times, and I too became acquainted with him. He was a cool guy with plenty of stories to share. One day he invited me to a party with his friends, and I politely declined because he suggested there would be liquor, and I was a non-drinker. I said I would join him some other time. Shubha was pleased with my response and teased Sethu for trying to get her husband to his booze party.
Sethu raised his hand as if to hit her, and Shubha moved away in fear. Although it was a playful gesture from Sethu, I was slightly perplexed by his rude behavior since I was standing there. I was equally surprised by Shubha's choice not to challenge him. From then on, I started to get a strange vibe of Shubha behaving slightly submissively towards Sethu, and Sethu displaying dominance. It was strange because I had no memory of my wife doing the same with me. Even though I thought it might be because of Sethu's muscular body structure compared to the lean petite figure of Shubha, the idea that she felt overwhelmed by his dominant nature left me with a sense of unease.
One evening, Shubha called me and mentioned she was going to watch a film with her friends. When I asked about Sethu, she confirmed, "Yeah, he's also coming."
By then, I had already met two women from her office, so I assumed they were all going to watch the movie together. However, that weekend when I visited her, while casually checking her purse, I discovered two torn halves of movie tickets. The date and showtime matched that of the outing she mentioned, but I was surprised to find only two tickets. This raised my suspicions as it suggested Shubha had watched the movie solely with Sethu and chose to hide it from me. Although I didn't confront her, my mind was put on alert.
In the following weeks, I encountered several similar incidents, all hinting at a deeper connection between Shubha and Sethu. At the same time, I also observed that Shubha tended to follow whatever suggestions came from Sethu, whether it was about the grocery shop or the type of vegetable to include in her diet. One day, she called me and mentioned she was buying a small sofa for her hall. I wasn't particularly pleased about the idea of spending money on a sofa, but more than that, I was concerned that the whole idea might have originated from Sethu. His occasional authoritarian demeanor was also becoming more noticeable to me. Despite my growing discomfort, I chose to remain silent as Sethu was the only person available to help Shubha.
These types of incidents kept repeating, and eventually, I decided to confront Shubha. She acted shocked and was in tears. I was left feeling sorry for myself and apologized immediately. I thought it ended there, but Shubha revealed my doubts to Sethu when he visited later. Sethu simply chose to ridicule me.
“Wow, Manav, you're really something. Getting jealous over a few harmless suggestions? It seems you have no idea what friendship means. Maybe you should learn a thing or two from me about being a supportive friend.”
He said.
I was insulted and felt angry at my wife.
It was a tough situation, and for the first time, we didn't make love even once during that weekend.
However, my confrontation and subsequent apology did not quell my suspicions. The next time she visited me, I noticed there were no chats between her and Sethu on her mobile phone. I had seen them chatting many times before. Then I remembered she always cleared their chat history before our weekend visits. With this in mind, I was determined to find answers.
After a week, I made a surprise visit to her on a weekday. Confirming my doubts initially, I found Sethu with her. However, it was evening, and they weren't doing anything particularly offensive. There was a bottle of Vodka on the table, sealed. Sethu explained that he brought it to show Shubha, as it was his favorite brand. He mentioned he had no intention of opening it until then, but then changed his mind to invite me to try it.
Despite swearing that I had never consumed liquor in my life, and trying my best to decline, Sethu persisted, and I ended up sitting with him. At his first gesture itself, like a loyal wife, Shubha placed two glasses on the table. I was surprised to see her making no objection to my drinking. It was another indication of her accepting Sethu's authoritative behavior.
Reluctantly, I had my first experience of drinking that evening. The taste and smell of the vodka were far from what I had imagined. It wasn't difficult to drink. Observing how Sethu mixed soda, water, and a drop of lemon juice into it, I got a sense of his expertise in drinking.
My head felt dizzy even before I finished my second round. Despite my protests, he coerced me into having a third. Enjoying the lightness in my head, I ended up having a fourth round. After that, I had no memory of the night, and when I woke up, it was already the next morning, and I found myself lying on the sofa. Shubha had left for the office, with a note stuck on the kitchen door.
"Call me when you wake up." More than the words, my eyes were drawn to the small heart symbol she had drawn next to them. I smiled at it, realizing my foolishness in drinking so much and ending up unconscious.
My plan for the surprise visit was initially intended for just one day. However, having had no opportunity to spend time with my wife, I decided to extend my stay for another day. I spent most of the day in her flat, passing the time with nothing particular to do. I took a walk along the street too, stopping to watch the construction work going on in a new building next to Shubha’s.
While in the kitchen, I stumbled upon Sethu's vodka bottle. I was surprised to see the amount of vodka left in it. I had consumed four pegs, and as far as I could recall, Sethu had also consumed four. Yet, more than half of the vodka remained in the bottle. Curious, I did a bit of research online about the amount of liquor in that bottle and how many pegs it would make—roughly twelve—and realized that Sethu couldn't have consumed more than two pegs. Since vodka is colorless, our glasses looked the same.
This revelation heightened my suspicion to a whole new level. It suggested that Sethu might have intentionally gotten me drunk while keeping himself perfectly in control. The realization that I had left myself unconscious for the entire night stirred panic within me. The mere thought of Sethu potentially taking my place in Shubha's bed was enough to make me forget to eat lunch, despite being fully aware that I was likely overthinking the situation.
That evening, Sethu visited again to take back the leftover vodka. I wondered why he did not take it in the night itself, but did not ask him. I felt he was just making an excuse to visit Shubha again. He was surprised to see me and invited me to finish the bottle. I immediately agreed, but made a promise that it would be the first and last time I'd drink liquor.
Shubha wasn't very pleased this time. She objected, but only until Sethu gave her a disapproving look. She immediately placed two glasses on the table. This time, I was careful. Pretending to be busy on my phone, I secretly observed how Sethu poured the vodka into the glasses. He first poured vodka into my glass and diluted it with water. Then he poured vodka into his glass, but I noticed he poured only half of what he had given me.
Even though I wanted to exchange the glasses secretly, I could not as he quickly handed me my glass. As we started to drink, he said, "in one go." Not wanting to raise suspicion, I followed suit, believing that one glass wouldn't leave unconscious like the previous night.
Throughout the evening, I kept planning on how to avoid consuming all the liquor in my glass. I got my chance when Sethu received a phone call he couldn't ignore and went out to answer it. Shubha was busy in the kitchen, so I quickly emptied my glass into the washbasin and filled it with tap water. I wasn't concerned about drinking tap water.
However, I couldn't find another opportunity to deceive Sethu after that, and I ended up drinking up to three pegs. Pretending to fall asleep on the sofa, I closed my eyes and fought against actually falling asleep. Unfortunately, despite my efforts, the first drink I had in one go overwhelmed me. I didn't know when I fell asleep.
It must have taken a while before I regained my consciousness and woke up from sleep.
As my senses returned, I found myself alone in the silent hall, lying on the sofa. Then, I noticed the closed bedroom door. Confusion washed over me as I tried to remember what had happened. But that's when I heard it—the sound of someone crying behind that closed door. And to my astonishment, it was the unmistakable voice of my wife!
Even before I could think of what it would be, I knew everything about it. What it would be and why she was crying like that. It was not a cry but a noise of pleasure.
Also, there was a non-stop, thumping sound of movements coming from that room, and my heart sank as realisation hit me like lightning as I learnt in a moment that it was the sound of Sethu fucking my wife in that bed. The sound of his body violently hitting that of her, amplified by the squeaking sound of the weak wooden cot in the room, and the crying of Shubha which sounded like a long wail cut into pieces and again joined like a chain by momentary breaks of breathing - altogether told me a story I wasn't prepared to know about.
My blood boiled and I squeezed down the cushioned arm of my sofa to get up like a storm. Anger boiled inside me as I struggled to comprehend the betrayal unfolding just behind that door. I wanted to burst in there to confront them and demand answers. I was going to pull them apart and shout at them loud enough to awaken the whole building.
But as I approached the door, I found myself frozen, my hand trembling inches away from the handle.
I just couldn't do it.
My heart had already taken the hit. It knew more than I could comprehend in the limited time. The voice coming from the room wasn't that of pain. They were the sounds of pleasure from my wife, of intimacy shared with someone who wasn't me. Amidst all that rhythmic thumping, there lay the undeniable evidence that my wife was enjoying what she was going through at the moment. Her breaths were filled with pleasure, and they told me that she didn't want to be disturbed; that she didn't want to be stopped from getting all that pleasure. To me it even felt like a plea, a plea not to interrupt, not to deny the unyielding pursuit of pleasure.
As I moved closer and held my ears close to the door, I heard Shubha’s voice clearly.
"Slow, Sethu... Please... Aaah..."
I gathered myself to hear what she was talking.
She was begging.
"Oh, come on, baby... It's so good, isn't it?"
Sethu's voice came like a burst of fervor and struggle, as his breathing didn't sound like he was not in the mood to follow her request.
"It's getting loud... he'll wake up... Please... Slow...aaah....aaah.."
She was talking about me.
Well, she was bothered about it. Bitch! And her voice still sounded like a moan. How she didn't have an iota of doubt about her own voice being the loudest from that room!
"Oh, he wouldn't. He didn't wake up yesterday, and he wouldn't wake up today also."
Sethu's assurance coated with a chuckle of arrogance was just a stab at the centre of my already aching heart.
Yesterday!
Yesterday too?
Obviously, they had done it before.
I remembered how I had fallen asleep on the previous night and woke up in the morning lying in the sofa. The memory of that night, when I had unknowingly slept on the same sofa while they indulged in illicit pleasure of betrayal and sex, flooded my mind. It only intensified the pain of being betrayed, and I felt despair crashing over me. I had found myself drowning in a sea of betrayal.
I didn't want to break open the door. I didn't want to stop them.
That woman, lost in pleasure in that room, wasn't my wife any more.
I took a step back. My vision blurred as tears started filling it. I feared my thumping heartbeats would soon start echoing into that room and they would sense that they have been caught. Suddenly the sound of movements stopped in the room. I was alert, and I wiped my tears quickly. I stood there, preparing myself to confront them as they open the door.
Will they quickly dress up and try to cover up; trying to convince me there was nothing?
"Move that side, and keep your head down, dear..."
Sethu's instructions halted my thoughts. The next moment I heard a soft moan from my wife.
"Aaaah..."
"Such a round ass... So beautiful and nice... Yes..."
I heard a slap. I could tell it was the sound of him slapping the flesh of her ass. Subjecting the softness of her ass cheeks the pleasure of his manliness.
And then the bed squeaking resumed. So did Shubha's cries, though softer, as he started fucking her again.
They had changed the positions. That's it.
It was a long session of violent sex, completing the highest possible level of betrayal. For them, I was just a dead meat lying in the hall.
Slowly, I withdrew myself to the sofa, almost collapsing onto it. The shock I felt was like nothing I had ever experienced before, a lightning jolt that sent my world tumbling in a matter of seconds. I was paralyzed, unsure of what to do next.
Every inch of my body screamed for action. I wanted to burst through that door, to unleash my fury upon them, to make them feel the pain they had inflicted upon me. The thought of violence crossed my mind—grabbing a kitchen knife and brutally ending it all in one swift motion. But deep down, I knew I couldn't.
My body had lost its strength, frozen in place as if weighed down by the burden of having lost in my life. All I could do was sit there, motionless, as the sounds of their forbidden intimacy kept escaping that door, taunting me with the pleasure they were having.
The imagination of them together, entwined in passion, stayed in my mind like a burning charcoal. My Shubha, her petite figure intertwined with another man's, an imaginary sight that filled me with a mix of disbelief and disgust.
But it was real. It was happening right under my nose, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
Tears streamed down my cheeks unchecked, my heart ached and I wept in silence. I knew I couldn't face them—not yet. I didn't have the strength to contain my anger and sorrow, to confront the truth of their betrayal. So I stayed where I was, lost and heartbroken, praying for the courage to pick up the pieces of my shattered world.
As I sat there, consumed by a sea of emotions, I realized the depth of my own helplessness. The weight of this betrayal had crushed my spirit.
In a desperate attempt to ease the pain, I reached for the bottle once more, pouring another glass of liquor. It offered me a brief reprieve, and I tried to convince me that I'm still alive.
But as the minutes passed, I felt myself slipping away, whether into the embrace of sleep or the numbing oblivion of alcohol, I couldn't be sure. My eyelids grew heavy, my thoughts drifting into uncertainty.
And so, with a heavy heart and a weary soul, I surrendered to the darkness, unsure if it was me falling asleep or dropping unconscious.
The next morning, as the light of day crept into the room, I found myself in the same familiar setting—my weary body lying on the sofa, alone.
Yet, there was a subtle shift in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the realisation that had destroyed my world.
Shubha had left a small note on the door. Breakfast awaited me in the kitchen, along with a pot of hot water on the stove.
From the outside, everything appeared unchanged. But within the four walls of our home, everything had shifted. My perception of life, of love, of trust—shattered and reshaped by the events of the previous night.
As I read Shubha's note, the burden of sadness took over me, mingled with uncertainty of my life. Deep down, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
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