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Chapter 8

  The restaurant was warmly lit, with soft yellow mps that gave the pce a romantic, intimate glow. A multi-cuisine bistro, known for its ambience as well as its food. They had arrived on Raj's scooter—Kiran riding pillion, gripping the edge of the seat with both hands, still a little unaccustomed to the small novelties this female body kept forcing on him.

  As they parked and walked toward the entrance, Kiran gnced at the semi-opaque gss door. He paused for a second. A woman stared back. A beautiful woman in a fitted kurti and churidar, with delicate jhumkas—traditional dangling earrings—swaying in her ears, a few thin gold bangles catching the light at her wrists.

  This had started hours ago, back at home.

  Kiran had sat in front of the mirror for a long time. The makeup box y open in front of him like a dare. His hands hesitated, but his body—it betrayed him with ease. His fingers seemed to know what to do, almost instinctively. But his mind still screamed resistance.

  He stared at his reflection, half-done. Then Raj walked past, combing his hair.

  “Nimita’s going to dress up for sure,” Raj said, pausing in front of the mirror. “You shouldn’t pale in comparison. Go bling-bling, I’d say.”

  Kiran had chuckled nervously. Then, with a resigned breath, he'd thought—What the heck.

  His body already screamed ‘female.’ What would a little more glitter change?

  He picked up the blush. His fingers moved with practiced grace, surprising him. Then came the eyeliner, and finally, the lipstick. A pair of rge jhumkas followed, a bracelet on one wrist, a couple of bangles on the other. He slipped a gold ring onto the third finger of his left hand—and couldn’t help admiring the delicate design.

  Last came the pièce de résistance: a slender diamond-studded mangalsutra, the bridal chain.

  When he was done, even he was taken aback. The woman in the mirror wasn’t just pretty—she was stunning.

  “Wow,” Raj had said, pausing behind him. “I’m going to die over that face.”

  Kiran had blushed—and looked away in embarrassment.

  The ride to the restaurant had been short. As they entered, the other couple was already seated at a table of four.

  Sumit stood and hugged Raj warmly. Nimita greeted Kiran with an enthusiastic smile and a kiss on the cheek, which felt really awkward.

  “You look gorgeous as ever!” she excimed, csping Kiran’s palms.

  Kiran gave an awkward smile. “You’re looking very pretty too,” he replied politely.

  Nimita groaned theatrically. “Ugh, I’ve gained so much weight after my first child. Look at these cheeks!”

  Kiran smiled. Yes, she was a little chubby, but she had an attractive buxom figure. She was wearing a beautiful saree and blouse, which accentuated her curves and showed some cleavage through the folds of her saree. But what seemed to catch Kiran's eyes more than her curves was her beautiful Bengali saree.

  Sumit turned toward Kiran. “How are you, bhabhi?”

  “I’m fine, Sumit bhaiya,” Kiran replied automatically, trying not to wince at the titles.

  Dinner was pleasant. Raj and Sumit dove into cricket and politics. Nimita chatted animatedly about her two boy, whom she’d left with her strict mother-in-w for the night. The conversation then veered to her recent saree purchases and tales about her Mother in w's obsession with cleanliness.

  Kiran mostly nodded and smiled. Her conversation didn't interest him much. He felt like a spectator. He was more interested in Raj & Sumit's debate on cricket and couldn't resist jumping in once—correcting Sumit about the number of centuries Virat Kohli had scored in Test cricket.

  Sumit looked surprised. “Bhabhiji, you know that?”

  Kiran hesitated, searching for a answer.

  “Virat! He’s so cute,” Nimita chimed in. “My favourite too!”

  “Sorry, Nimita,” Sumit said with mock sadness. “He’s taken by Anushka. You’ll have to settle for me.”

  Everyone ughed. Even Kiran couldn’t help smiling.

  After dinner, Nimita cpped her hands. “Let’s click some pics!”

  There was a group selfie, and then she asked for couple shots.

  “Come closer, na,” she said teasingly. “You two are married.”

  Raj slipped an arm around Kiran’s waist and pulled him gently closer. Kiran stiffened slightly.

  “Perfect,” Nimita said, clicking away. “Now smile!”

  Kiran smiled, despite himself.

  After the picture session, they bade goodbye to each other. " I will send you the pics on whatsapp", Nimita said as they left.

  It was almost 11 by the time they returned home. As Kiran turned to head into the bedroom, Raj caught his hand.

  “Thank you for tonight,” Raj said quietly. “You looked so gorgeous… honestly, I’m having second thoughts about going to this office tour.”

  Kiran raised her eyebrows, but gave a small smile. “It’s okay. I had a good time too.”

  Raj motioned toward the sofa. “Sit with me for a bit?”

  Kiran hesitated, then nodded.

  Raj turned serious. “I don’t know what’s been bugging you tely. But whatever it is… if you want to talk, I’m here.”

  There was sincerity in his voice. And concern.

  Kiran’s throat tightened. Would Raj understand if he told him the truth? That he was a man, trapped in this unfamiliar, treacherously comfortable body? His wife's body? He doubted it.

  “It’s okay,” Kiran said, voice soft. “Just… give me a little time.”

  Raj gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m always here for you.”

  That warmth—unexpected and sincere—filled something inside Kiran. And then, to his shock, his eyes welled up.

  Tears? Me? he thought.

  He turned away, embarrassed.

  Raj leaned forward, armed. “Kiran—you’re crying. What’s wrong? Please tell me.”

  “It’s nothing,” Kiran mumbled, wiping his cheeks. “Just… give me some time.”

  Raj didn’t press. He pulled Kiran into a hug.

  “You don’t have to carry it alone,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”

  Kiran flinched, wanting to pull away—but the hug, so steady and comforting, felt like shelter. He stayed in its warmth, letting the moment wash over him.

  After a few moments, he leaned back. “You should get going.”

  Raj pulled gently too, smiling. “I think you smudged your eyeliner.”

  “Have I?” Kiran ughed nervously, fishing a tissue out of his purse.

  He dabbed at his face as Raj guided him. “Here… and here.”

  “Ok now?”

  “Perfect.”

  Kiran stood up. “Come on, aren't you getting te?"

  Raj chuckled. “Throwing me out already?”

  Kiran raised an eyebrow.

  Raj said, "There’s still an hour to go. Want to watch a movie?”, he added," You choose the movie".

  “Let me change first. These earrings are killing me.”, Kiran replied

  Kiran disappeared into the bedroom. He slipped out of the outfit, uncsped the jewellery, washed the makeup off, and changed into a loose, soft cotton gown—his go-to for comfort now.

  When he returned, Raj looked up, admiring “Still gorgeous, with or without the gm.”

  “Stop it,” Kiran ughed. “Where’s the remote?”

  He picked an action movie—something with stunts and explosions.

  “This?” Raj asked, surprised. “I thought you’d pick a romantic film. Your tastes are changing.”

  Kiran shrugged defensively. “So!?”

  “Nothing,” Raj said, grinning. “As long as your interest in me doesn’t change.”

  “Stop being cheesy,” Kiran replied. “Remember your promise.”

  “Alright, alright. Let’s just watch.”

  They watched the movie sitting a little apart, with Raj making sure not to invade Kiran's space. Raj kept up a steady commentary of jokes though—mocking the over-the-top acting, ughing at the ridiculous plot holes—and before long, Kiran couldn't help but join in. He started throwing his own one-liners with growing enthusiasm, the two of them trading quips like a comedy duo on a roll.

  An hour and a half passed quickly. We could be good friends, Kiran thought.

  Then it was time for Raj to leave and he booked a cab. As the Uber pulled in, he stood and hugged Kiran once more.

  “Take care,” he said gently. “And remember what I said.”

  Kiran nodded, watching him go.

  After the door closed, he returned to the sofa and sat down continuing to watch the remaining movie, but lost interest soon and switched off the TV. He stretched his arms, looking around.

  The house felt very silent.

  Isn’t this what I wanted? Kiran thought. Calm? A bit of peace? No one to bother me?

  And yet… a strange loneliness crept into him. He felt a sudden chill, shivered slightly and wrapped his arms around himself.

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  That's the end of Chapter 8. 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 ofbrief quotations used for review purposes.

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