The Hidden Chapters -23

 

After Sindhu left, the house felt unusually quiet. Manoj went to take a phone call in the balcony while I slowly walked back toward the bedroom, adjusting the edge of my saree carefully as I moved.

The bed was still messy from the night before. The crumpled bedsheet. The scattered pillows. The faint scent of perfume, sandalwood, and warmth still lingering in the air. Observed car keys that Manoj has given me as a gift also on corner of bed. And I kept it neatly on the side table.

For a few seconds, I simply stood there looking at it. I quickly began fixing the bedsheet, trying to distract myself. As I bent slightly to straighten one corner, the saree loosened a little at my waist. After adjusting the bed, started walking towards the dining table and cleaned. Felt lot of work to do and really started doing the lady of the house.

The vegetable basket needed sorting. A few grocery items had to be checked and completed the same.

 The washed clothes on the balcony had to be folded. So I took them to the bedroom and started folding. At one point, while folding the clothes, I picked up a bra that had been mixed into the laundry basket. The sight of it immediately brought back memories of Friday evening and everything that had changed since then.

Just then, Manoj also came to bedroom and noticed the expression on my face.

"What?" he asked, trying to look innocent. Instead of answering, I rolled my eyes and tossed the bra directly at him.

He caught it effortlessly. For a second, he looked at it, then at me.

A slow smile appeared on his face."You're mischievous," I muttered. "Me?" he laughed.With a teasing grin, he tossed bra back toward me.

As I continued folding the laundry, I came across the soft blue cotton petticoat I had worn with the cotton Mangalagiri saree the previous day.

For a moment, my hands paused. The sight of it immediately brought back memories of Saturday afternoon—learning to manage the saree properly, adjusting the pleats again and again, Sindhu's constant instructions, and the strange feeling of seeing myself dressed so differently.

I began folding the petticoat neatly and started feeling the softness of fabric. Unfortunately, Manoj noticed.

"Oh..." he said immediately with a knowing smile. "I remember that one."

I looked up cautiously."What?". He pointed toward the blue petticoat in my hands. "That one. I remember seeing it yesterday afternoon."

My cheeks warmed at once."Manoj!" He laughed."What? I'm only saying I remember it."

"You don't need to comment on every single thing."

"I disagree," he replied confidently. "Some things deserve appreciation."

I shook my head and continued folding the petticoat, refusing to encourage him further.

Manoj leaned back against the sofa and watched me for another moment.

"Honestly," he said, "it feels strange.""What does?"

"Yesterday afternoon you were trying so hard to figure out those saree pleats."

I smiled despite myself."I remember and now I know more about you.”

"And now look at you," he continued. "You're walking around the house like you've been wearing sarees your entire life."I folded the blue petticoat and placed it neatly on the stack.

"That's because Sindhu made me practice." "Maybe," Manoj replied softly.

"But I think you learned much faster." His tone had become gentler now.

For a brief moment, both of us remembered how much had changed. Then Manoj immediately ruined the serious mood.

"Still," he added with a grin, "I definitely recognized the famous blue petticoat."

I picked up a small hand towel and threw it directly at him.He burst out laughing.

"See? I knew that comment would get a reaction."

"You shouldn't be looking at a lady's innerwear."Manoj immediately raised an eyebrow.

"A lady's innerwear?" "Yes," I replied, trying to sound serious.

"That's not proper."He folded his arms dramatically and pretended to think about it.

"Maybe." Then a smile slowly appeared on his face.

"But I think husbands get an exception.""Oh really?" I asked.

Manoj stepped a little closer."Besides," he added softly, "you're my wife."

My face immediately grew warm.He laughed at my reaction."What? I'm just stating a fact."

I looked away and continued folding the clothes. And in a softer tone, I responded, you literally troubled me yesterday night”

"And anyway," he continued teasingly, "after everything we've been through this weekend, I don't think you're allowed to be shy around me anymore."

"Who made that rule?"

"Me."

"That doesn't count."

He grinned.

"It counts for me."

I picked up another piece of laundry to hide my smile.

Manoj watched me for a moment before speaking again, this time more gently.

"You know, my favourite part isn't the saree."

I looked up.

"Then what?"

His expression softened."Watching you make this place feel like home."

The teasing disappeared for a moment.And suddenly, standing there surrounded by folded clothes and ordinary household chores, the compliment felt far more intimate than any joke he had made all morning.

I gathered the neatly folded clothes into my arms and stood up carefully to arrange them in the cupboard. After finishing, observed myself in the mirror and checked my reflection.

First, I smoothed the saree pleats, running my palm over them to make sure they were aligned properly. Then I adjusted the safety pin near the pleats and tucked in a loose fold that had come out while doing chores. Next, I straightened the pallu over my shoulder, letting it fall neatly across the front before arranging its border so it sat evenly.

Finally, I checked the mangalya chain resting over my blouse and made sure it was visible and sitting properly, just the way Sindhu had instructed earlier.

Manoj stepped closer."You know what's funny?"

"What?"

"Yesterday you were asking Sindhu if the pleats looked right."

I laughed softly."And today?""Today you're correcting them without even looking."That observation made me pause.

Because he was right.Without realizing it, I had adjusted the pleats twice already.

The pallu too.The habits were becoming natural.

For a moment, I looked at my reflection in the wardrobe mirror.The cotton saree.The neatly arranged pleats.The mangalya chain resting over my chest.

The small red bindi.The woman in the reflection looked calm.

Manoj stepped behind me and wrapped his arms around my newly formed breast slightly caressing them. His chin rested on my shoulder as he admired our reflection in the mirror.

"You've been avoiding me all morning," he whispered.

I smiled softly. "I've been doing housework."

He laughed and held me a little closer.

"You're still tired, aren't you?"

I nodded and looked at him through the mirror.

"You were very rough yesterday and you know you literally tore my body and on top of that you tore both nighty and petticoat. you were like hungry lion" I said quietly. "I'm still feeling it today."

Manoj's teasing expression immediately softened,but i can feel he is feeling proud of himself.

"I know," he admitted. "I got little carried away."

"A little?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "I was not aware of this side of your part ".

He laughed softly. "Okay... more than a little."

I turned slightly toward him and said, "I'm your wife. Why are you in such a hurry?"

His smile faded into something warmer. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "Maybe because I still can't believe you're here." 

I shook my head with a shy smile.

"We have plenty of weekends ahead of us."

For a moment, he simply looked at me, his eyes full of affection.

"I think that's exactly what I needed to hear," he said.

Standing there together in the quiet afternoon, neither of us felt any need to rush. The house was peaceful, and for the first time that day, we simply enjoyed being close to each other.

Just as Manoj pulled me closer and the conversation between us began turning more intimate, the cook's voice suddenly came from outside the room.

"Bhabhi?"

I immediately got alert and swiftly stepped away and adjusted my pallu.

Looking back once, I couldn't help smiling, because Manoj trying to hide his erected penis.

Manoj was clearly disappointed by the interruption.

His expression practically said that the cook had arrived at exactly the wrong moment.

I shook my head and left the room before he could protest.