Target - 90 votes.
Dhimahi's Pov-
It has been three weeks since that incident.
I don't speak to him unless I have to. If words are exchanged between us, they’re mostly started by him. I respond, but only as much as needed. My functions have become mechanical—wake up, do the chores, attend work, cook his meals, respond to his touches. I still do things for him, not out of love, but out of duty. But even that’s a lie I tell myself—because you can't just stop loving someone overnight. Especially not when you’ve loved them with every ounce of your soul.
That’s what makes this so difficult. My love for him is still there—quiet, aching, but buried under layers of disappointment. Every time he touches me, some part of me wants to collapse into him. But I remind myself why I’ve pulled away.
The only thing that’s keeping me sane is my job. Thankfully, it’s remote. I haven’t stepped into the office in these three weeks. That physical distance gives me space, even if my mind is still shackled by everything Trayambak did. I’ve made friends at work. They think I’m single. I never told them about my marriage. Not because I’m ashamed. No. But because I don’t want their curiosity, their judgment. If they find out I’m married to Trayambak, the Trayambak—rich, powerful, and known—they’ll ask why I work here at all. Why this small job, why this tiny salary.They wouldn’t understand.
Evening. 6 p.m.
I shut my laptop, kept it in its place, and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. My body ached from the double load—housework and office work. But I couldn’t afford rest. Not when my mind needs distraction to survive.
As I was chopping onions, I heard the familiar honk of his car. My heart instinctively tightened. He entered moments later, walked into the kitchen, and wrapped his arms around me from behind.
I stood still.
He kissed my neck gently and whispered, "I missed you."
["I missed you."]
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. He should feel the silence.
"Aap fresh ho lijiye, mai tab tak khaana laga deti hu."
["Go freshen up, I’ll serve the food in the meantime."]
He nodded, but before walking away, he turned me around and kissed me. Not a demand, not harsh—but gentle, familiar. My body betrayed me—it always does. It still responds to his touch. Still remembers his warmth, his rhythm. The way he kisses like I’m made of glass.
He made love to me several times over these weeks. Never forceful. But I never initiated it. I never resisted either. I just... allowed it. I just responded. Because despite everything, some part of me still yearns for him.
Dinner passed quietly. He complimented the food, as always. His approval still warms me. That’s the hardest part—how validation from him still affects me.
After dinner, we returned to the bedroom.
"Baby, kal shaam ko ready rehna."
["Baby, be ready tomorrow evening."]
"Kyu?" I asked, frowning.
["Why?"]
"Ek business party hai. Sab apne spouses ke saath jaa rahe hai."
["There’s a business meetup. Everyone’s bringing their spouses."]
"Mujhe nahi jaana."
["I don’t want to go."]
"Tumse puch nahi raha hu, bata raha hu."
["I’m not asking you, I’m telling you."]
The sharpness in his voice made me flinch, but I stood my ground.
I clenched my fists. I just wanted to rest — tomorrow was supposed to be my only day off. One single day to breathe. But he had already decided still I tried one more time, this time i kept my voice low.
YOU ARE READING
The Oculesics- Ek Kahaani Junoon Ki
Fantasy"Kapde utar," he said coldly. ["Strip"] Dhimahi's hands shook as she reached for her dupatta. There was no point resisting. She knew it. But she was too slow. Trayambak stormed towards her, ripped her kurti, and forced her down to her knees. "Muh kh...
