"So, how many times does it rain in your fields?"

Her friend's question made her cheeks turn crimson to the roots. The excited giggle from the other end of the call made heat rush to the apples of her cheeks, and the edges of her lips stretched towards her equally crimson and warm ears.

"Sunitaaaaa!"

"Yes! Madhuriiiii! Do you think he calls out your name the way I do?" Sunita teased.

Madhuri's breaths had grown staggered by the scandalous implication of her friend's words. She almost hit herself with the phone in her hand. Madhuri's eyes darted around, praying her mother-in-law hadn't overheard. She would prefer for the depths of the earth to swallow her than letting the older woman listen to Sunita's words about her marital life and see her response.

"You really don't have any shame, do you?"

Madhuri shook her head in indignation, struggling to wipe the grin and blush off her face. She heard her friend bursting out into peals of laughter, listening to her complaint. "You still behave like you are newlywed. It's going to be two years of your marriage next month, isn't it?" asked Sunita.

Madhuri hummed in reply, and the glee in her eyes faded away. Two years of matrimony, and they remained strangers in the matters of heart. She had acquainted herself with his preferences, but she had failed to acquaint with her husband as a person.

All she knew of him was how he preferred his morning tea, what color shirt made his eyes twinkle, and which colleague of his got on his nerves. But him? What was the man behind his likes and dislikes?

"Why are you still so shy to talk about it? Just answer the question."

Madhuri hesitated, stirring her curry. "Almost daily...except during those days."

Madhuri could hear her friend gasp. "Wow! No wonder you still blush like a newlywed! You are lucky- "

Her heart picked up the pace. Madhuri peeked towards her mother-in-law, Jaya's room before she continued. She had wanted to pose the question to her mother or mother-in-law, but she brushed the prospect away to avoid the consequent embarrassment and questioning.

"I wanted to ask you something. Does it hurt? Sometimes, uh, sometimes it-it hurts. A lot. Is it normal?" asked Madhuri.

She turned the stove off and placed the lid over the curry to pay her full attention to the answer. She leaned against the counter with her arm crossed against her chest and supporting the arm holding the phone.

Her heart sunk when Sunita replied with a laugh. She wondered if she had been pondering over a trivial issue, but the mere thought of the sharp, stabbing pain in her lower abdomen made a shiver run down her spine.

"Looks like my brother-in-law is quite passionate! You must feel elated he is still interested in you after almost two years. My marriage is just a few months old, and my husband has no time or interest in me. Share some tips with me!"

Madhuri had not expected the envious undertone in her friend's voice. She failed to understand how her friend could let envy get better of her in face of her agony.

"But- "

"MADHURI! Where is my tea? Or did you forget about it while talking to your friends again?"

Jaya's thunderous voice boomed across the corridor, forcing Madhuri to disconnect the call without completing the conversation. "Bringing, Maa. Five minutes! I had kept the tea for reheating!"

Madhuri turned the stove back on and she let out an exasperated sigh. Her troubled and tempestuous mind wandered towards her other friend, Anupriya Sharma.

Anupriya, being a nurse and married for four years, could shed light on the reason behind her condition, but her heart reminded her of the grave consequences that awaited her if she associated with the woman fallen from graces of her beloved ones.

Madhuri dismissed the trail of thoughts, accepting Sunita's words. She wondered if she had overthought instead of counting her blessings, blissfully unaware of the storm that awaited her.

****

Madhuri's bright smile turned into a frown as her husband, Sameer, critiqued the meal she had prepared. "Why is the curry lacking in flavor? And the papad is soggy. You've completely ruined my appetite!" Instead of the praise she had hoped for, Madhuri was met with complaints. "I double-checked and everything seemed to have the right amount of salt and spices," she responded, trying to defend herself.

"Oh, so you say my taste buds are not working. You have one work in the entire day, and you serve this sham to someone who toiled all day. I can't eat this!" said Sameer, pushing the plate away.

"What can she do? Such bland food must be the norm in her childhood. Remember, even the food served in the marriage was equally bland? It must be a regional thing. I'll go prepare something for you, son," Jaya sighed, shaking her head.

Madhuri struggled to hold back her tears, biting her lip to keep from breaking down. Jaya's thinly veiled insults only added fuel to the turmoil in her heart. She nervously played with the edge of her dupatta, trying to divert her emotions and prevent herself from crying.

"Maa, you don't have to trouble yourself. I'll add the spice and salt to this, and fry new papads," said Madhuri, picking the vessel containing the curry and making her way to the kitchen.

She transferred the curry into the cooking utensil, gulping her tears that clogged her throat. She turned the stove back on underneath the wok to heat the oil, along with the curry, sprinkled salt, red chilli powder and garam masala powder into the curry and mixed the curry.

A sarcastic smile made its way to her bruised lips as she wondered if the mother and son duo liked to add as much salt and spice to their food as they liked to sprinkle on the fresh wounds, they inflict upon her through their words.

Her phone lit up, revealing the message that had just been received. Madhuri wiped the tears away and looked at the screen to see the sender's name. It was Anupriya who had responded to her earlier message. She could not resist messaging the older woman, despite the fear which had slithered and coiled around her naïve heart.

"Hi, Madhuri. It should not hurt. It is not a good sign. Go to the gynecologist at the earliest. If it is something serious, you may not conceive in the future. Avoid doing it till your gynecologist says it is okay. You can come to the hospital I work at. I can get you an appointment with the city's best. Take care."

It tugged at Madhuri's heart to see her friend's concern for her. Daggers of remorse tore through her conscience for distancing herself from Anupriya, but she could not dare to go against the flow and brave the consequences.

After considering Anupriya's recommendation, Madhuri felt compelled to accept it. She couldn't risk losing her ability to bear children, a reason that she knew would sway Jaya and Sameer. However, the second part of the suggestion gave her pause. She was certain that Sameer would not agree with it. He would dismiss her concerns as baseless worries and deem Anupriya's advice as worthless.

Defeated, Madhuri let out a heavy sigh and dropped a papad into the hot oil. She knew she had no other option but to deceive him about her menstrual cycle starting unexpectedly early. While it pained her, she rationalized that she had no other choice left.

****

"Sir, we represent the guilty party and we should not win this case." Her eyes searched his face for any sign of agreement or doubt, but he only responded with a sly smirk as he placed his hand on her shoulder. Despite her efforts, there was no hint of remorse or wavering determination in his expression.

"Avantika, lawyers must have a flexible sense of morality. If not, they can easily ruin your career and livelihood just like a broken compass. Therefore, let's leave moral concerns aside and focus on winning for our client. That is all that truly matters." Avantika hesitated before speaking up, "But what about the woman?"

Avantika's voice rose in protest, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand. "She's not our client," he stated firmly. "And besides, she's too innocent for this world. Maybe this experience will open her eyes to the harsh reality we face." He grabbed his coat from the plush chair and briskly exited his office, leaving no room for Avantika to make her case. Arjun Malhotra was a man who only cared about winning, nothing else mattered to him.

Disclaimer: The protagonists are flawed, and come with their own set of insecurities, priorities, strengths, and weakness. I based them on real people, and hence their actions are far from ideal.

Constructive criticism and suggestions is always welcome. But I request you to refrain from comments with veiled mockery, taunts, name-calling, and personal remarks. Those comments stay with me and haunt me for days, like most authors, and sometimes even nights. If you want to criticize a scene/action/sentence, please base your opinion in logic, because experiences and morality are subjective, and no one really likes to get called out on their experiences or morals.