The next Morning

I lazily lounged in bed, my phone held high as I scrolled through the screen, taking in the various notifications and messages that had accumulated overnight. Alok's early morning text appeared, apologizing for not being able to video call the previous night due to work commitments. I sighed, accepting his excuse, knowing that his career was a top priority.

Meanwhile, Raghav Ji's message popped up on the screen, a friendly early morning greeting. After my revelation from the night before, I couldn't help but view his message through a different lens. The realization that he had been pursuing me, albeit subtly, hung heavy in the air. I pondered how to respond, knowing that my next move would set the tone for our future interactions.

Determined to distance herself from Raghav Ji, I closed the chat and placed my phone aside. It was clear that a proper married woman should not engage in private conversations with unrelated men. With a resolute mind, I rose from the bed and walked towards the mirror.

Upon reaching the mirror, I paused, taking in my reflection. I was still dressed in the daring purple nightie I had worn the previous evening. The memories of last night flooded my mind, and I couldn't help but notice how my nights had become increasingly lonely. My marriage seemed to be drifting in an uncertain direction, and I feared that I might end up like the gossiping aunties at the temple yesterday.

As I gazed at my image in the mirror, I made a decision. I turned back towards the bed, my mind made up.

I picked up my phone and sent Raghav Ji a good morning message, figuring it was polite to acknowledge his greeting. To my surprise, he responded almost instantly, asking if I had a good sleep. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the question; it seemed rather forward to inquire about a married woman's sleeping habits.

Smiling coyly, I replied that I slept like a baby, enjoying the entire bed to myself. Within seconds, Raghav Ji fired back another question: "Was Bhaisaab not at home?"

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. I was in the kitchen, preparing a fresh pot of coffee, when I read his message. Taking a deep breath, I typed out my reply, explaining that Alok was in Delhi for a meeting.

Raghav Ji's response was swift: "Good, he's taking his work seriously."

His words stung a bit, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of irritation. "Not if he leaves his wife home alone," I replied curtly, a hint of frustration seeping into my message.

Raghav Ji's response was almost immediate, a laughing emoji followed by the words, "Of course, Bhabhi Ji. A wife comes first, especially if she's as beautiful as you."

I blushed at Raghav Ji's compliment, feeling both flattered and a little uncomfortable. Nevertheless, I continued chatting with him, and for nearly an hour, we exchanged stories from our childhoods and college days. It was an interesting conversation, and I found myself opening up to him, sharing details about my past that I hadn't spoken about in years.

During our discussion, I learned that Raghav Ji had been married for 16 years. He met his wife, Sonal Bhabhi, during their college days, and the way he spoke about her suggested a genuine affection. This seemed at odds with the scandalous rumors I had heard about his personal life. Perhaps people in their social circle simply had different values and expectations.

The conversation then took a turn when Raghav Ji asked if I was free that morning. It was clear that this was his first move in pursuing me more directly. I bit my lips and decided to play his game. I replied that I needed to do some grocery shopping in the afternoon. He inquired about my destination, and I told him I planned to visit Kisan Mandi. Without hesitation, he informed me that he would meet me there.

With that, the conversation came to an end, and I returned to my daily chores.