Page 187

Story: The Deceit

He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, his lips warm against my skin. “This has been the best birthday of my life.”

I reach up, my fingers sliding into his hair, drawing him closer. “Because you deserve the best, Vishnu.”

When his lips meet mine, the world fades away. The kiss is slow, deep, full of promise—an undeniable truth we both know in our hearts: no matter what storms life may bring, we will always find our way back to each other.

In his arms, with our son nestled between us and our family surrounding us, I know this is what true happiness feels like. This is what forever feels like.

VISHNU

Later at Night

After the chaos of the birthday party celebration, Dad and I are seated in the living room, discussing the latest political strategies for the NEP party. It’s a serious conversation, one that requires my full attention. I’m trying to focus, I really am, but my phone buzzes against the coffee table, drawing my attention.

I casually pick it up, unlock it, and there it is—a message from Simran.

“I’m wearing your favourite colour lingerie tonight—maroon. Want a glimpse?”

My breath hitches, and I glance up at Dad, who is busy in his notes, blissfully unaware of the fire my wife just ignited inside me. My jaw tightens as I look toward the staircase leading to our bedroom.

There she is, casually leaning against the railing with a devilish grin on her face.

Her eyes meet mine, mischief dancing in them as she tilts her head, daring me to say ‘Yes.’ My fingers tighten around the phone as I nod at her, silently telling her to stop this.

But of course, my wife doesn’t know how to quit.

Another buzz.

I clench my teeth but can’t stop myself from glancing at the screen. And I see it—a glimpse of her maroon lace lingerie that she claims she’s wearing underneath the satin robe tonight. The image she’s sent is deceptively innocent—just her lingerie laid out on the bed.

But my mind? It doesn’t see it that way. Because I know it’s no longer on that bed. It’s onher. Wrapped around her curves, hugging every inch of the body I crave. Before I can think about what to do, there’s another message from her.

“Just like you are tempted seeing my maroon lingerie, I’m obsessed with that blazer you’re wearing tonight. Can’t wait for it to come off.”

I groan inwardly, swallowing hard, trying to look composed, but the moment her next message buzzes on my phone, any semblance of calm vanishes into thin air.

“Imagine my hands sliding under that blazer you wearing, undoing your white shirt, button by button… Still think you can focus on your meeting?”

Dad’s voice sounds like it’s coming from a distant tunnel, muffled by the vivid picture she’s painting. My grip on the phone tightens as my mind spirals into the fantasy her words are weaving.

I risk another look upstairs. Simran hasn’t moved an inch. She’s still standing there, biting her lip, her grin widening as she watches me squirm.

I force a cough, trying to clear the lump in my throat. Dad looks up from his notes, his brows raised.

“You alright, Vishnu?”

“Yeah,” I reply, my voice coming out a bit rougher than intended. I lean back on the couch, dragging a hand across my stubble in an attempt to ground myself.

Dad narrows his eyes. “You look... flushed. Are you sure you’re okay?”

My heart thunders in my chest. He’s caught me. Damn it.

“I’m fine,” I reply quickly. “Just a bit warm in here.”

Dad nods, going back to his notes, though his expression says he’s not entirely convinced.

Another buzz.

I glance at my phone, trying to appear as casual as possible.

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