After lunch, Kiran and Priya set out into the warm, buzzing afternoon, weaving through crowds of shoppers, their mission today: artificial jewellery shopping to match Priya’s stunning engagement lehenga.

  They had barely started browsing a bustling jewellery market when a familiar voice rang out.

  "Oi, dies! Thought you could start without me?"

  Kiran turned and smiled instantly.

  Roshni was pushing through the crowd, grinning broadly, her colourful kurti fluttering around her jeans, her fts tapping a confident rhythm on the polished floor. She carried that same restless energy that had always made her seem rger than life.

  Before Kiran could say anything, Roshni swept her into a quick hug.

  Kiran stiffened for a moment. He hadn’t hugged anyone in this body yet—not like this, not another woman. He expected a jolt of awkwardness, maybe even the old thrill he used to feel when pressed close to a woman. But what flooded him instead was different—warmth, comfort, something softer, deeper.

  Maybe this body thought of her as a sister, Kiran thought vaguely, pulling back with an embarrassed smile.

  Roshni smiled too—wide, teasing, a little too bright—and patted Kiran’s cheek affectionately. For a fleeting moment, something tender flickered behind her eyes.

  But it was gone so fast that Kiran barely noticed.

  "Finally, you girls are doing something right," Roshni joked. "Priya, you better pick out something sexy, or else I'm cancelling this engagement!"

  Priya rolled her eyes and pulled them both toward another set of dispys. The three of them plunged into a sea of neckces, earrings, and glittering hair accessories, Kiran more a spectator than an active participant. Roshni, of course, was everywhere—suggesting, criticizing, ughing.

  Her loud commentary and wicked sense of humor kept them ughing. She loudly vetoed anything too fshy or too boring, made faces at some of the shopkeeper's "best sellers," and insisted Priya try on at least five different earrings before approving one.

  Suddenly, she plucked a delicate choker—a shimmering web of silver and tiny pearls—and held it up to Kiran’s neck.

  "You. Try this."

  Kiran stepped back instinctively. "No way!"

  "Don't argue with the expert," Roshni said, already moving behind him.

  Before he could protest, she clipped it lightly around his neck.

  Kiran caught a glimpse of himself in the small mirror propped on the counter—and froze.

  The neckce sat snugly against his throat, highlighting the slender lines of his new body. He stared, startled, at how natural—how beautiful—it looked. He looked away quickly, unsure of himself.

  Roshni leaned her chin on his shoulder, grinning at their twin reflections. "See? Told you. Perfect."

  Kiran ughed, embarrassed.

  "Buy it with your husband's credit card," Roshni teased, winking. "Engagement bonus."

  Even Priya cracked up at that, clutching her sides.

  Kiran rolled his eyes but couldn't help but ugh along. It felt good. Normal.

  They spent another hour shopping, picking out bangles and payals (anklets) for Priya, with Roshni trying to bully Kiran into trying on delicate nose rings—an idea Kiran firmly refused.

  By evening, they drifted into a sandal shop, trying to find the perfect heels for Priya.

  As Priya tried on yet another sparkling pair, Kiran’s phone buzzed.

  It was Raj.

  "Where are you?" Raj’s voice was warm.

  "Shoe store near Rainbow Mall," Kiran said. "Why?"

  "’Cause you must be missing me, jaan," he replied. "I’ll meet you at the café next door. In half an hour. Okay?"

  Kiran said yes quietly.

  When Priya had finished, they met at the cozy café, tucked into a quieter alley away from the noise. Raj was already there, sitting at a corner table, sipping his coffee.

  His eyes lit up when he saw Kiran—but Kiran noticed that they seemed to cool a little when he noticed Roshni walking alongside.

  "Hey, jaan. Hey Priya. Roshni," Raj said, nodding slightly.

  Kiran nodded and sat in the chair opposite Raj.

  "Hi," Roshni replied, dropping into the chair beside Kiran. Priya slipped into the seat next to her jiju.

  "I’m hungry, jiju," Priya said, pouting slightly.

  "We’ll order some sandwiches, okay?" Raj asked.

  Kiran nodded.

  "I’ll share with Kiran," Roshni said cheerfully.

  Raj’s voice was mild but firm. "No. Kiran will share with me. I’m not very hungry—I'll just have a bite. You have your own."

  The atmosphere seemed to shift subtly.

  Kiran felt it, though he couldn’t have said why. Raj’s shoulders were a little too stiff. Roshni’s grin was a little too sharp.

  Polite conversation stumbled along, punctuated mostly by Priya’s excitement about the engagement preparations.

  Kiran sat back, a faint unease curling in his chest.

  Why was it always like this between them?

  The memories told him: it had always been this way.

  ----

  After the sandwiches and coffee at the cozy café, Roshni stood up, stretching her arms and looking at Priya with a smirk.

  "Alright, Priya, I'll drop you home on my scooter. No need to go through the hassle of a cab."

  Kiran’s eyes widened. "Roshni, that’s a bit of a detour for you, isn’t it? We'll drop her, don't worry"

  Roshni waved off his concern with a carefree smile. "Nonsense. You go home with Raj. You look exhausted, Kiran. Just go with Raj on his bike. It's on the way, and you’ll save some time."

  There was no arguing with Roshni once she made up her mind.

  Kiran's body instinctively tensed at the thought of being alone with Raj. The thought of spending another evening in that shared bed with Raj scared him.

  "Fine," Kiran muttered, trying to force a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Thank you, Roshni."

  With that, Priya hopped on Roshni’s scooter, waving goodbye cheerfully as they sped away. Kiran watched them disappear, the pit in his stomach deepening, before turning to where Raj waited, patient and expectant by his motorcycle.

  As they rode through the streets back to the house, the hum of the engine seemed to amplify Kiran’s nervousness. Raj, blissfully unaware of Kiran's turmoil, chatted through his helmet, the words slipping into the noise of the city. Kiran barely heard him. His heart was a steady drumbeat in his ears, his thoughts racing as the scenery blurred by.

  By the time they reached home, Kiran realized, startled, that his hands were still clutched around Raj’s waist. He pulled back sharply, flustered.

  Raj gave him a small, reassuring smile—gentle, unknowing

  Inside the house, the familiar dread returned, heavier now. As Kiran slipped into the bedroom to change, Raj’s voice carried from the hall:

  "The cook came this morning. Dal and cabbage sabzi are ready. Should I order chapatis? You must be tired."

  Yes, Kiran remembered. The cook comes in the mornings. Only fresh chapatis needed to be made...

  He stood frozen for a moment.

  In his old life, he had never cooked. Never needed to.

  And now, in this alien body, the thought of making chapatis felt almost ughably daunting.

  Raj must have sensed his hesitation. "You okay? Should I just order?"

  Kiran drew in a slow, grounding breath. "No," he replied quietly.

  He changed into a thick, cotton nightgown—the kind Indian women wore at home, simple and loose. The fabric didn't cling to him, and somehow, that brought a small, aching comfort.

  Rolling up his sleeves and pushing the bangles he was wearing back up his arm, Kiran stepped into the kitchen—and the strangest thing happened.

  His hands moved with a rhythm they shouldn't have known.

  The dough obeyed him, rolling into perfect circles, nding on the hot tawa with confident precision.

  Female Kiran’s memories lived in his fingertips, guiding him with an ease that stunned him.

  When the first chapati puffed up, golden and soft, pride bloomed unexpectedly in his chest.

  For the first time, he had cooked.

  And he had done it beautifully.

  He allowed himself a small, secret smile.

  But then—

  Arms wrapped around him from behind, warm and strong.

  Raj’s chest pressed against his back, his breath fanning against his neck before a soft kiss nded there.

  Kiran flinched violently, every nerve ending on fire.

  He tore away, spinning around. "Raj, don’t."

  But before he could bask in the small victory, Raj appeared behind him. The warmth of his chest pressed against Kiran’s back as Raj’s arms slid around his waist, pulling him closer. A soft kiss nded on Kiran’s neck.

  Kiran’s body went rigid, the shock hitting him like a bolt of lightning. His heart skipped, and he pulled away instantly, spinning to face Raj, his voice tight. "Raj, don’t."

  Raj stepped back, confusion clouding his face. "What’s wrong, Kiran? Did Roshni say something against me?"

  "What are you talking about?" Kiran managed, his voice thin and unsteady.

  Raj stood there, lost, hurt.

  Looking into his eyes, Kiran felt a a wave of sympathy rising inside him.

  He is trying to show his love to his wife. He doesn’t know I’m not his wife, Kiran thought .He doesn’t know I’m someone else trapped in her body.

  The realization struck him hard.

  "Raj," Kiran said quietly, his voice softening, "I haven’t felt like myself since I woke up yesterday. I don't know what’s happening to me... but please, give me some time."

  Raj’s expression wavered, then softened. "I’m sorry, Kiran. I just... I’m here for you."

  "It’s alright," Kiran whispered, resting a hand gently on Raj’s shoulder. "Just... give me time."

  They sat down to a quiet dinner. Raj kept stealing gnces at Kiran, his gaze full of uncertainty. Kiran, meanwhile, focused on the food, his mind still spinning with questions he had no answers for.

  Kiran stayed curled up on his side of the massive bed, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible. The bed felt far too small for the space he needed.

  Lying there, he listened to Raj’s soft breathing, willing sleep to come. But the weight of the situation, the swirl of emotions inside him, kept him restless.

  Then, without warning, Raj shifted closer, pulling Kiran toward him and wrapping an arm around his waist. His body was warm, his breath against Kiran’s neck even warmer.

  "I can’t sleep like this," Raj murmured, his voice frustrated. "Not with you so close."

  Kiran tensed, discomfort surging through him. Raj’s grip was too strong for him to easily escape. Staying calm, he gently pced a hand on Raj’s arm and said, "Raj, please... stay away from me for now. Just for a little while."

  Raj lifted his head, gazing at Kiran’s face. Misreading the sympathy in Kiran’s eyes for something else, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Kiran’s in a firm, lingering kiss.

  Kiran froze, stunned. His mind screamed to pull away—but to his horror, he felt his lips responding, betraying him.

  As soon as he realized, Kiran broke away violently, his heart pounding.

  "No!" he shouted, his voice thick with anger. "I told you to stay away from me! Can’t you understand?"

  Raj recoiled, wounded. Without a word, he turned away, curling up on his side of the bed, facing the wall.

  Kiran y back, his chest heaving with emotion.

  Slowly, the anger ebbed away, repced by a heavy, bitter sadness.

  He closed his eyes, hoping for sleep, but it didn’t come.

  Only the endless tangle of anger, confusion, guilt, and helpless empathy filled the night.

  What a mess this is, he thought bitterly, his mind swirling.

  --------

  That's the end of Chapter 5. Do let me know your thoughts on the chapter. Comment freely.

  Thankyou

  ------------------------------------------

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  > ? Moonmars15, 2025. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, pces, and events are either the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resembnce to real people, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this story may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used for review purposes.