Madhav, wearing only his trademark khakhi shorts, was seated on an armchair in his bedroom that had a scenic view of their garden. He was sipoing his beer when Shree walks in. She had put on a one of Madhav's favourite white shirt with her black shorts. She had fixed her hair in a bun with some loose frills hanging. She gently settled into Madhav's lap. Her thick thighs rest on either side of his lap as she straddles him.

Shree's eyes lit up with excitement. "You know what would be amazing? A holiday, just you and me," she suggested as she caressed his beard. "How about Bali? It's beautiful, and we could use some time away."

Madhav, captivated by her enthusiasm, readily agreed. "Bali sounds perfect. A getaway with you is exactly what I need," he replied, a smile playing on his lips as he caressed her bare thigh. Shree, overjoyed by his response, pressed a quick and gentle kiss to his cheek.

Madhav leaned in, attempting to capture her lips; but Shree, in a playful dance of teasing, skillfully avoided his advances, giggling.

"You're too quick for me," he teased.

Shree playfully evaded his attempts once more, her laughter becoming a melody in the air. "Come on, Shree, don't be a tease," he added, his eyes sparkling with affection.

"What if I sweeten the deal?" he flirtatiously proposed, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on her arm.

Pulling her closer by her arm, Madhav planted a lingering kiss on Shree's neck, igniting a blush that painted her cheeks with a rosy hue. He planted another kiss on her collarbone. A soft moan escaped Shree's lips as Madhav started to place kisses below her collarbone.

"You're impossible to resist," he murmured, one of his hand unbuttoning her shirt. He attempted to claim a soft kiss from her lips.

Shree captured his mouth with her lips. She flickered her tongue across his upper lip. He growled amorously at her, as she plunged her tongue into his mouth and kissed him passionately. As she did, she let her hands roam freely over his well-muscled abdomen, chest, and arms. 

* * * * *

In the soft light of the morning, she was knelt on the cool tiles of the bathroom in her pyjamas, her body hunched over the commode. The sound of her retching echoed through the apartment.

As Shree's body convulsed with each wave of nausea, regret mingled with the taste of bile in her mouth. The weight of pregnancy, once an anticipated joy, now felt burdensome in the midst of morning sickness.

Outside the washroom, Olivera stood with a furrowed brow, concern etched across her face. The worry lines deepened as she listened to the retching sounds emanating from within. She debated whether to enter and offer comfort or respect the privacy of the moment.

Olivera, sensing Shree's internal struggle, hesitated for a moment before tentatively knocking on the door. "Shree, are you okay?" she called out, her voice a gentle inquiry. The concern in her tone was palpable, a testament to the bonds of friendship that transcended the walls of the washroom.

Shree nods.

"Shree, I'm running late for the orientation, and you should get ready too. It starts in our respective faculties in less than 30 minutes. I picked out some clothes for you from your suitcase, and Sumaiya got some toast and muffins from the student canteen."

Groaning, Shree sat up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. With a determined sigh, Shree rose from the bathroom floor and stepped into the shower. The hot water cascaded over her, a comforting embrace that washed away the residual unease. The minutes ticked away as she allowed the warmth to soothe her senses, preparing her for the day ahead.

Exiting the shower, Shree found that Olivera, had laid out a blue shirt and denim for her to wear. Grateful for the support, she quickly dressed. In a swift motion, she grabbed her backpack and went towards the mirror to pull her hair into a quick ponytail.

With a last glance in the mirror, Shree took a deep breath, summoning the strength to face the day.

In her haste to reach the arts faculty for the orientation, Shree found herself colliding with someone unexpected-Sharan. His warm smile greeted her, and concern flickered in his eyes as he observed her frenzied state. "Why are you running like a madwoman, especially mow that you're pregnant?"

His hand instinctively found its way to her flat waist, a protective gesture that carried a hint of familiarity. "Be careful; our child is still delicate," he reminded her.

Panting slightly, Shree explained her urgency, "I'm late for orientation, and I need to be there."

Sharan, with a calm demeanor, reassured her that the arts faculty orientation had yet to commence since the dean had not arrived. "You can take a deep breath, there's still time. Be patient," he suggested.

As the day unfolded through the orientation sessions, Shree found herself immersed in the activities and information presented by the arts faculty. However, a particular phrase lingered in her thoughts—the moment when Sharan had referred to the child as "ours." Shree couldn't shake the curiosity about Sharan's choice of words.

As the orientation concluded in the evening, a sense of curiosity and a need for clarity propelled Shree to seek out Sharan. She navigated through the dispersing crowd, the anticipation of a conversation with Sharan echoing in her mind. Sharan was at his lecturer accommodation. As the evening shadows lengthened, Shree made her way to Sharan's accommodation.

Shree knocked the door and Sharan quickly swung the door open. Shree's intent gaze collided with an unexpected sight. Before her stood Sharan, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts that rested on his hips. His torso was a canvas revealing the sculpted contours of his physique. His well-defined chest bore witness to hours of disciplined workouts. His biceps, sinewy and powerful, completed the picture of a well-toned physique.

Caught off guard by the unexpected scene, Shree couldn't suppress a shriek that escaped her lips. Sharan, sensing the surprise, moved with swift reflexes, pulling her inside and shutting the door before any of the other lecturers could catch a glimpse of the unexpected visitor.

With her eyes shut tight, Shree felt a mix of embarrassment and surprise, still processing the unexpected sight.

"You can open your eyes now; I'm wearing a shirt," he calmly mentioned.

As Shree cautiously opened her eyes, she found Sharan clad in a green tee-shirt. Shree let out a sigh of relief.

"What brings you here?" he inquired, genuine curiosity in his eyes. Shree, still processing the situation, found herself momentarily unable to speak

Sharan, ever composed, offered a warm smile, breaking the silence. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked. Shree nodded in response.

His smile persisted as he reassured her, "I'm making you some hot chocolate. Why don't you sit down?" He ushered her to the black sofa in the living room.

In the warmth of Sharan's apartment, the aroma of hot chocolate wafted through the air. Meanwhile, Shree took a leisurely stroll around the living space, absorbing the subtle details of his world.

Sharan's eyes brightened with a warm smile as she entered, presenting her with a mug of steaming hot chocolate. Shree gracefully accepted the mug of hot chocolate offered by Sharan, their fingers briefly brushing in a tender exchange.

Seated on the living room sofa, they found comfort in each other's presence. Their eyes met, exchanging unspoken sentiments that danced in the air. As Sharan took a sip, his gaze lingered on Shree, and a gentle smile mirrored her own.

Amid the quietude, he posed the question that lingered in the air, "Why did you come to see me?"

Stammering slightly, Shree gathered her thoughts, her eyes meeting Sharan's with a mix of curiosity and vulnerability. She mustered the courage to ask the question that had echoed in her mind since their unexpected encounter. "Why did you call the baby 'ours' when you know it's someone else's?" she inquired, seeking clarity in the ambiguity of his words.

"I don't know why, but I don't regret it," he confessed, his honesty hanging in the air.

With a gentle touch, Sharan wiped a delicate foam mustache off Shree's lips.

"I mean, I won't hesitate to look after our baby as if it were our own once the little one is born." he whispered.

A blush painted Shree's cheeks.

"But it's not your responsibility," Shree insisted, her eyes reflecting both gratitude and hesitation. Sharan, holding her hand with a reassuring grip, asked softly, "What if I really want to? What if I want to be there for you and our baby?"

Shree, touched by his sincerity, couldn't help but feel the warmth of his intentions. "But you're not the father, and it's going to be tiring, a big burden," she reasoned.

Sharan, his gaze unwavering, replied, "It'll be worth it."

Shree looked at him nervously. "I - I - this is so much to take in! I need time to - to - take all this in - to - to process all this. Thanks for the hot chocolate!" Shree stood up quickly and rushed to the door.

To be continued....