Lipstick on Weekends

Part 11: Tears, Truth, and Three Hearts

The fire crackled softly in the warm Pondicherry night, scattering sparks toward the moonlit waves. Nandhini stood frozen, breath catching in her throat. Sand shifted beneath her bare feet, the soft wind lifting her curls, now sticky from the beach air and salt.

Aarthi and Vasanth knelt before her on the sand, velvet boxes still open, rings glinting in the amber light. They both looked up at her with such sincerity, such fierce hope in their eyes, that it shattered something inside her.

“I… I need to tell you something,” she said, her voice tight and shaking.

Aarthi’s head tilted, concern rising. Vasanth frowned. “Nandhu?” he asked gently.

Nandhini’s gaze dropped. “I can’t go on like this. You both deserve to know.”

The moment stretched, taut as a violin string. The waves whispered behind them, soft and endless. Her throat closed. Still, she forced the words out.

“I’m not who you think I am,” she whispered. “Not really.”

Vasanth took a step closer. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. Her fingers curled into the sides of her long velvet gown.

“I wasn’t born as Nandhini,” she said, louder this time, voice cracking. “My name is… Naveen. I’m biologically a boy.”

A gust of wind passed through the clearing like a gasp.

The fire popped. Aarthi’s lips parted in stunned silence. Vasanth blinked, as if unsure he heard her right.

She didn’t wait for questions. The confession poured from her like a dam bursting.

“My appa died when I was in tenth. My sister was supposed to join a coaching center for NEET, Amma paid a huge sum. But last minute, Akka backed out. Amma was upset, but there was no refund. She joked -‘Unakku than akka madhiri face iruku, poyituvaa nee.’ I laughed too. But Auntie-our beautician aunt-took it seriously. She had these prosthetics, wigs, techniques. We just tried it for fun one day... and I looked exactly like my sister.”

She gave a sad, tired laugh. “It was supposed to be one weekend. Then two. Then the teachers praised me. I made friends. And then…”

Her voice cracked again. “Then I met you two.”

She gestured toward her body. “This..this isn’t real. The breasts. The shape. The curves. All prosthetics. But the feelings? The fear of being seen. The joy of friendship. The butterflies… those were all real.”

She pulled at her neckline, suddenly suffocated by the elegant dress. “You both fell in love with someone who doesn’t exist. Who I created out of guilt.”

Aarthi finally stepped forward. “You’re serious?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Nandhini nodded. “I don’t even know who I am anymore. I walk, talk, sit like a girl. I wear pads during my period to keep up the act. I tie my hair at night, apply toner in the morning. I’ve started believing I am her. But I still remember being Naveen. Being that quiet boy who hid in the back of class.”

She fell to her knees in the sand between them, her tears falling freely. “I didn’t mean to deceive you. I never planned any of this. But I love you both. Genuinely. Fully. I can’t choose. I can’t stop.”

She sobbed, burying her face in her palms. “I just want to be accepted. Even if you walk away, I had to tell the truth.”

Aarthi was silent for a long moment. Then she knelt beside her.

“Kanna,” she said softly, lifting her chin. “Look at me.”

Their eyes met. Aarthi’s gaze held tears but no hatred. No disgust. Only fierce affection.

“You’re mine. Whether you're a boy, girl, or something in-between. You're the same Nandhini who once cried because her kajal smudged in the bus. My Nandhu.”

Vasanth crouched down too, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he held.

“I never liked girls,” he said quietly. “I thought I never would. Until you. I fell in love with the way you argue, the way you look at the sky when you’re nervous, the way you smile when you get a math answer right.”

He reached for her hand. “I didn’t fall in love with your body. I fell in love with you.”

Nandhini’s sobs deepened. “You’re not angry?”

Vasanth shook his head. “I'm not angry. I’m in awe.”

Aarthi wrapped her arms around Nandhini. “You’re braver than both of us combined.”

“We don’t need to force decisions,” Vasanth added. “Let’s date. All three of us. We’re young. We’ll figure it out.”

Nandhini sniffled. “You… both want to still be with me?”

Aarthi laughed through her tears. “Are you kidding? You’re literally everything. Our best friend, our lover, our muse.”

Their hands closed around hers like anchors. Her heart pounded. Her makeup smeared. Her chest ached.

She looked at them both, trembling. “I’ve never been this scared. Or this loved.”

Aarthi smiled. “Then be scared with us.”

Vasanth chuckled. “And be loved by us.”

And as the three of them hugged in the orange glow of the fire, the sky turned dark velvet, stars twinkling overhead.

The moon shimmered above the sea.

Three hearts. One truth.

And Nandhini-fragile, exposed, accepted-was whole.

The Night of Love :

The resort room door clicked shut behind them. Nandhini’s pulse throbbed in her ears, louder than the hush of the ocean outside. The scent of jasmine perfume, coconut shampoo, and faint rose incense filled the air. The room shimmered dimly - gold-pink bedsheets spread over a wide four-poster bed, sheer curtains dancing in the breeze.

Aarthi dropped her handbag with a soft thud and slowly dimmed the lights. Vasanth set a glass of water on the bedside table, then passed another to Nandhini, whose fingers trembled slightly as she accepted it.

“You alright?” he asked gently.

She tried to smile. “Just… overwhelmed.”

They sat on the bed, shoulders brushing. No one spoke at first. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it was charged. Fragile. Intimate. Nandhini’s heart beat so fast, it felt like her skin was pulsing.

Aarthi turned toward her, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “May I… undress you?”

Nandhini nodded. Her lips parted in anticipation and dread.

She rose slowly, her velvet dress whispering as it moved. Aarthi stepped behind her, fingers delicate against the zipper. Each inch it lowered sent goosebumps across Nandhini’s back. Finally, the dress slipped down her shoulders, falling in a pool at her ankles.

She stood in her seamless undergarments: the adhesive, skin-toned breast forms merged against her skin, high-waisted nude panties concealing the prosthetic pubic patch. Everything so real - even she forgot sometimes.

Vasanth exhaled slowly. “No one would ever guess,” he murmured, fingers trailing gently down her waist.

Nandhini’s voice cracked. “But it’s all fake.”

“No,” Aarthi said firmly, circling around her. “It’s all you.”

They moved with quiet reverence - undoing the adhesive carefully, gently peeling away the pieces that helped Nandhini hide. First the bra. Then the breasts. Each came off with a soft pull, revealing the truth beneath. Her flat chest, slender ribs. Then came the lower prosthetic, removed with slow care and warm wipes, exposing the last vestige of Naveen.

Nandhini shivered under the hotel AC, standing half-naked, her body exposed for the first time - not just physically, but emotionally. Raw.

Vasanth cupped her face. “You’re beautiful, kanna. More beautiful because you were afraid, and still let us in.”

Aarthi stepped forward too. “May I?” she whispered, lifting her own green blouse.

She unhooked her bralette, revealing soft curves and brown skin kissed with freckles. She pressed close, wrapping her arms around Nandhini’s bare frame. Their skin met. Nandhini gasped, body tense at first… then melting.

Vasanth peeled off his shirt, his warmth joining theirs. “Come,” he said softly, guiding them onto the bed.

Nandhini was laid down between them. Her back pressed to Aarthi’s chest. Vasanth traced lazy circles over her arms, her collarbone, her fingers. It was not lust. It was discovery. Reverence. Worship.

Aarthi nuzzled into her hair, planting a kiss behind her ear. “This is what you deserve.”

“I feel… shy,” Nandhini murmured.

“You look like a dream,” Aarthi whispered.

“You are our dream,” Vasanth added.

Nandhini’s eyes filled with tears again - but this time, they were soft, silent. She let her fingers lace into Aarthi’s. Let her foot rest over Vasanth’s leg.

When Vasanth kissed her forehead, and Aarthi pressed her lips to her shoulder, she felt something she never had before - peace.

They took turns tracing her, mapping the lines of her real body. Aarthi kissed her flat chest. “This is still yours,” she said. “Still beautiful.”

Vasanth cupped her hips. “Everything about you tells a story. And we want to hear all of it.”

They laughed quietly when Nandhini flinched at Vasanth’s tickling fingers. Moaned softly when Aarthi ran her nails across the small of her back.

The night stretched on. Their whispers blurred into each other.

“Remember our first bus ride?”
“You cried when your earring broke.”
“You used my comb that first day.”
“You asked doubts just to make me notice you.”

Between laughter and love, between bodies and breaths, the weight of their shared truth became feather-light.

Later, wrapped in a silky nightie, Nandhini lay nestled between them. Her head on Aarthi’s chest, her fingers intertwined with Vasanth’s. All of them half-covered by the same warm blanket. No more prosthetics. No more fear.

“I feel like a bride,” she whispered.

“You are,” Aarthi murmured, stroking her hair.

“Our bride,” Vasanth said, smiling.

They didn’t need promises. Not tonight. Just this silence, the thrum of hearts, the scent of ocean breeze curling through the balcony.

And in that sacred tangle of limbs, Nandhini....neither fully boy nor entirely girl - was finally whole.

Lipstick on Weekends

Part 12: Stethoscopes and Sarongs

Two months after NEET, life shifted.

Naveen stepped into KMCH Medical College in Coimbatore - tall, lean, still unmistakably soft-featured. The name on the ID card pinned to his chest read Naveen M. But everything else- the flawless skin, long ponytail, absence of any visible facial or body hair, and the way his eyes flicked around nervously hinted at someone else beneath.

The morning sun gleamed off his oiled hair, tied neatly behind in a soft ponytail. He wore a beige shirt and slate grey pants - unisex, modest, forgettable. But the clean jawline, pink lips, and impossibly smooth hands stood out.

Aarthi, on the other hand, strode in like a queen.

Sleeveless lilac crop top. High-waisted jeans. Lip gloss shimmering. And beside her, Naveen looked... delicate. They got a few looks that morning, people wondering who the long-haired boy was walking beside the campus diva.

Aarthi leaned in and whispered, "Welcome to med school, Nandhu."

He flinched. “Pesa koodathu di… I’m Naveen today.”

“Only outside,” she grinned.

Days Between Worlds

Though he joined as Naveen, Nandhini was never far behind.

Sometimes on weekends. Sometimes for surprise dates. Sometimes when Aarthi was bored and wanted her “girlfriend” back.

Vasanth too...still in Coimbatore, running his business - was part of this strange, sweet equation. He’d often take Nandhini out in his BMW, sometimes treating her like royalty, sometimes as a shy blushing date.

His mother and sister knew. Had known for months. And strangely… they didn’t resist anymore. Amma even once left out a hair-straightener on the bed silently before Nandhini’s date. When asked, she just smiled. "Unakku pidikkaradhu pannu ma. Ithu un life."

That One Tuesday Morning:

It was a sleepy, humid morning at KMCH Medical College. Naveen had tied his long hair into a loose ponytail, his light olive shirt slightly crinkled from the rushed ironing. His black cargo pants clung to his narrow frame, and a dull white stethoscope peeked from his satchel. He looked like a soft, unbothered boy - with oddly glowing skin and a walk that had more sway than stride.

Across the courtyard, Aarthi entered like a breeze laced with perfume and mischief. Her sky-blue Anarkali was sleeveless, hugging her narrow waist and flaring around her ankles. The neckline dipped lower than college rules allowed, but no one dared stop her. Her dupatta was barely there - more a tease than a covering.

She spotted Naveen near the shaded corridor and walked up to him with a wicked grin.

“Nandhu, restroom va da… now,” she whispered into his ear.

He blinked, confused. “Enna da? Enna panradhu restroom la?”

“No questions. Come now.”

Before he could protest, she’d already slipped her fingers into his wrist and dragged him toward the far-end girls’ washroom on the second floor - the one she’d “secured” through her unofficial influence. No girls would walk in for ten full minutes.

Inside, the air was warm, still carrying the floral trace of a body spray. Aarthi locked the door, threw her handbag on the slab, and pulled out a towel and a compact makeup pouch.

He removed her own sky-blue sleeveless Anarkali and gave it to him, slightly wrinkled from the morning wear, faint perfume and body heat still lingering on the fabric

A white padded bra, worn and warm

A matching cotton panty, slightly damp from the humid morning

Adhesive prosthetic breasts and pubic patch

Compact foundation, kajal, peach lipstick, and a tiny purse with earrings and hair ties

Naveen took a step back, face reddening. “Aarthi... dei! Nee already idha potutu vandha dress da idhu…”

“Exactly,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Now you’ll wear it.”

“Are you serious?” he whispered, scandalized. “Paavam dress la... Eppadi di!”

“Nandhini wears what her girlfriend gives her,” she said, grinning. “And don’t act new, you’ve worn worse.”

Before he could run, she already began unbuttoning his shirt. “Stop being shy. You’ve worn padded bras before. Today, you're wearing mine.” She winked. “Let’s see if they still fit.”

The Swap

Within minutes, Naveen stood bare-chested under the yellowish restroom light, arms crossed to hide his smooth chest. Aarthi unhooked her slightly damp bra and handed it to him with a smirk.

“Smells like me, doesn’t it?” she teased.

He reluctantly slipped the still-warm bra on. The cups clung uncomfortably at first, and Aarthi gently tucked the realistic breast forms into place. They pressed against his chest, lifting and rounding, forming a perfect cleavage.

Next came the panty and the adhesive prosthetic pubic patch. She helped him adjust it, pressing it firmly so that it blended into the smooth skin between his legs.

“Perfect ah irukku,” she said, inspecting. “From outside, no one can tell. You could use a pad too.”

He groaned. “Aiyo... naan epdi class la poven ipdi?”

“Just one day. My Nandhu should experience college life like a proper girlfriend.”

She pulled the Anarkali over his head. The fitted bust gripped tight against his false curves. The fabric smelled faintly of her morning sweat. He winced at the stickiness under the arms.

“The armpit area is sweaty,” he muttered.

“So? Girls sweat too. Welcome to our life,” she winked.

The dress was sleeveless, light, flowing - but every movement exposed his smooth arms, his shoulders. She tied his hair into a soft puffed bun and added earrings, blush, and a bindi.

Finally, she handed him a girl’s satchel. “Carry your ID, lip balm, pad, and this tiny comb. You’re officially Nandhini for the day.”

Humiliation in the Lab:

The corridor felt like a minefield.

Students passed them, staring - some confused, others admiring. Naveen could feel the prosthetics shift slightly as he walked, the bra’s straps digging into his skin. The armpits of the Anarkali, already damp from Aarthi’s wear, clung to him with warm moisture.

“Sogam da,” he muttered. “Sutthi sutthi sweat a feel aagudhu.”

Aarthi giggled and rubbed his back. “It’s called living as a girl. Suffer beautifully.”

In the anatomy lab, the real test began.

He wore a white lab coat over the sleeveless dress, but the coat didn’t help - his arms still peeked through, soft and bare. The sweat built up under the false breasts, the prosthetic clinging like a second skin. He shifted constantly, adjusting his dupatta, tugging his sleeves, blinking through the kajal.

A group of girls behind them whispered, giggling. One of them finally leaned forward.

“oii new girl a, where did you get this Anarkali? Super colour,” she smiled.

Aarthi leaned in. “It’s mine. I dressed her today.”

The girls laughed. “So cute!”

Nandhini turned pink. He felt heat rising in places the prosthetics didn’t cover.

The Aftermath:

After class, he stumbled back into the washroom with Aarthi, pulled off the prosthetics with a hiss, and peeled off the sweat-soaked Anarkali.

“I hate you,” he muttered, wiping his arms with tissue.

“You loved every minute,” she smirked, gently pressing powder over his flushed cheeks.

He didn’t reply.

Evening Surprise – TNPL Date :

Just as the final bell rang and the campus crowd began to drift away under the fading Coimbatore sun, Nandhini felt her phone vibrate.

Vasanth: “Come out in 10 mins. Let’s catch the TNPL match. Don’t change.”

Her fingers trembled as she read it again.

Still wearing the same blue sleeveless Anarkali that Aarthi had forced her into, still tucked, still adorned with the adhesive prosthetics, light makeup clinging to her cheeks, and her hair in a messy-but-soft puffed bun - she looked like a tired but radiant college girl. And she knew it.

She turned to Aarthi, who had just come out from the other corridor, now dressed in his unisex shirt and loose cargo pants.

Aarthi giggled, clearly smug. “Go! You look absolutely edible. Tell him I dressed you, okay?”

Nandhini rolled her eyes. “Ippadi velila poren nu ninaikkave illa da.”

“But you are going. He’s obsessed.”

Butterflies at the Gate:

By the time she reached the main gate, her palms were damp. The blue dress clung to her skin under the setting sun. Without the lab coat, her shoulders were bare and tingling in the breeze. Her padded chest, the skirt riding up with every gust of wind, and the slight chafing where the tucked adhesive rubbed against her… everything was sharp, sensory, and humiliatingly real.

She kept tugging the hem of her skirt down, mindful of passing boys and aunties.

Then she saw it - Vasanth’s sleek black BMW gliding up the side lane.

He rolled down the window, flashing a grin that made her insides knot up.

“Get in, milady.”

Stadium Lights and Secret Sighs

The TNPL stadium was already roaring with energy when they arrived. As she stepped out of the car, a few boys in the crowd stared at her - this tall, striking girl in a sleeveless floral pink dress and little white flats. Her anklets chimed faintly. The perfume Aarthi had sprayed on her neck still lingered.

She clutched her satchel close to her chest, adjusting her dupatta nervously as Vasanth placed a steadying hand on her back.

They made their way to a front-row seat - clearly premium passes -and the moment she sat down, he gently took her hand.

His fingers interlaced with hers like it was the most natural thing in the world. She tried not to react. But inside?

A storm.

Too Close. Too Good. Too Real.

Every few minutes, his hand brushed her knee. Sometimes he leaned in, pretending to whisper about the match but letting his breath tickle her ear.

Nandhini shivered slightly.

The prosthetic breasts beneath her dress shifted when she moved, pressing snugly into the padded bra that already felt stuffy under the lights. A bit of sweat trickled down the arch of her back, and her inner thighs stuck awkwardly against the tucked patch.

“Uncomfortable?” he asked, noticing her fidget.

She shook her head. “No… just nervous.”

He smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

“Stop it,” she muttered, cheeks turning pinker than her lipstick.

“Why should I? I missed seeing you like this.”

Caught in the Spotlight:

Midway through the innings, the stadium dimmed momentarily. One of the announcers shouted into the mic.

“Let’s find our Sweetheart Shot of the Match!”

Nandhini didn’t think much of it - until she noticed the massive digital screen flicker and suddenly zoom in… on them.

She froze.

There she was—shoulders bare, dupatta slipping to one side, Vasanth’s arm resting casually over her seat, their knees brushing. The spotlight had found them.

Across the screen:

“Sweetheart Shot of the Match!”

Her eyes went wide. She instinctively hid her face with both hands, heart thudding so loud she couldn’t hear the crowd.

But she could feel Vasanth lean in. He pulled her hand away from her face, gently tucked a flyaway curl behind her ear, and placed a kiss on her temple.

“Now the whole world knows,” he whispered.

She turned to look at him - eyes soft, lips parted, heart doing somersaults. She didn’t say a word. She couldn’t. She just leaned her head onto his shoulder, breath slowing.

The Ride Home

Later, in the car, she stayed quiet for most of the drive, staring out the window at the orange and pink sky bleeding over Coimbatore’s skyline.

“You okay?” he asked at a red light.

She nodded. “Yeah. Just... confused.”

“About what?”

“Everything,” she whispered. “Me. Us. This body. This dress. That screen.”

He reached over and placed his hand gently over her knee again.

“You don’t have to choose. You’re allowed to be confused. I’m not here for a label. I’m here for you.”

She blinked. “Even if I go back to shirts and pants tomorrow?”

He smiled. “Even if you show up in a lungi.”

She laughed, soft and full of disbelief. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do. And Aarthi too.”

They pulled up to her gate. As she stepped out of the car, he held her hand.

“You’re my Nandhini today. And every version of you tomorrow.”

Then he kissed her knuckles and drove off.

Five and a Half Years Like This....

That was just one day out of the hundreds.

Five and a half years went by - each one stranger, sweeter, and more complicated than the last:

Lab sessions with Aarthi holding her hand under the desk

Midnight texts from Vasanth

Exams written as Naveen, but revision breaks taken as Nandhini

Movie nights cuddled with both of them

Soft arguments, tighter hugs, silent understandings

She existed between two names, two roles - but was never alone.

One name on the register. Another in their hearts.

Because love wasn’t about choosing between boy or girl.

It was about choosing her whoever she chose to be that day.

And both Aarthi and Vasanth chose her, every time.

Lipstick on Weekends

Part 13: Two Vows, One Heart

Five and a Half Years Later…

College ended, and life rushed forward. But some questions linger like slow-burning incense.

Who will you marry?

For Naveen... no, Nandhini -that question wasn't just about love. It was about truth. About the two halves of a soul stitched into one trembling body.

By now, they were inseparable. Aarthi and Vasanth. Two stars tugging at her in opposite orbits.

She had shared lipstick and gossip with Aarthi. Dance floors, silence, and sweat with Vasanth. She had laughed on late-night calls, studied into dawns, and walked out of lectures hand-in-hand with both.

But how do you choose between breath and heartbeat?

The Unexpected Answer

It was Nandhini - the real sister, the once-future doctor, now a globetrotter with anklets, designs and ambition who sat them all down.

“I don’t want a partner,” she said. “I want mountains. I want hostels in Europe and temple towns. I want to live wild.”

Then she turned to her brother. “So take my place.”

Naveen stared. “What?”

“Marry Aarthi as Naveen. Marry Vasanth as Nandhini. You’ll be both. You already are both.”

The room froze. Amma gasped.

But instead of shouting, she nodded, slowly. “If that brings you peace… then I give my blessing.”

The silence was broken by Aarthi whispering, “Kanna… I’ve waited too long for this.”

And Vasanth smiled. “So have I.”

Wedding One: Aarthi’s Groom

The Pollachi mandapam was fragrant with sandalwood and kanakambaram. Veena music played softly.

Naveen stood at the altar, tall and striking. He wore a cream sherwani threaded with gold vines, a ruby-studded brooch gleaming at the collar. His long hair was combed into a traditional knot, fresh jasmine tucked in.

His eyes searched.

And then...there she was.

Aarthi. In fiery red silk. Her blouse was deep at the back. Her saree shimmered with zari peacocks. Bold kajal lined her eyes. Her walk was a slow dance of confidence.

“i came first in the race, baby” she whispered, sitting beside him.

He grinned, holding back tears. “Enna panradhu… you always win.”

The thaali was tied. Her bangles jingled as she placed her hand over his.

That night, in their decorated suite, she stood before him in a maroon lace nightdress, the lamp casting golden patterns over her shoulder.

“I want you tonight,” she whispered. “Not just Naveen. All of you.”

He kissed her slowly, undressing her with trembling fingers. His hands traced her curves. Her lips kissed away his fear.

That night, he was hers. As man. As woman. As lover.

Wedding Two: Vasanth’s Bride

One week later, beside the crashing waves of Mahabalipuram, the second marriage took place.

The private villa courtyard was filled with lilies and lights. Nandhini walked out, radiant.

Her saree was midnight blue silk with silver thread shaped like ocean ripples. The blouse was delicate, hugging her prosthetic curves. A sheer veil hung over her bun, which was adorned with orchids and pearls. Her false breasts looked real - firm, warm, perfect. The adhesive pubic patch blended so naturally, even she forgot it wasn't hers.

Her lipstick was wine red. Anklets shimmered.

Vasanth, bare-chested in a crisp veshti, turned and stared.

“Sorkathula irundhu vandhiruka maadhiri Iruka,” he whispered.

Their eyes locked as she walked on rose petals. The thaali was light, thin gold, tied with shaking hands.

He lifted her chin. “You are mine.”

She trembled. “Always.”

That night, jasmine blossoms covered their bed.

He unwrapped her like a gift ...layer by layer, reverently.

She stood bare before him. No breast forms. No padding. Just skin, vulnerability, and breath.

He held her like she was sacred.

He kissed her collarbone. Her hips. Her soft, flat chest. Her navel.

“You’re more woman than anyone I’ve ever known,” he said.

And with tears in her eyes, she let him worship her completely.

The Life They Built:

They moved into a three-bedroom villa near Coimbatore in the weekends

Weekdays: Naveen and Aarthi. Sarees swapped for shirts. Morning filter coffee and hospital rounds.

Weekends: Nandhini and Vasanth. Long drives, market shopping in salwars, late-night movies under her dupatta.

No one outside knew.

But inside?

They lived as three.

Three toothbrushes. Three cups of tea. Three rings.

When Aarthi had a cold, Nandhini held her.
When Vasanth had a bad day, Naveen brewed his special ginger tea.
And when Nandhini cried out of nowhere, both ran to her.

The world would never understand.

But hearts don’t ask for permission. They just beat. Together.

Lipstick on Weekends

Part 14: A Life of Love

Five Years Later

The sky above Coimbatore blushed with orange as dawn poured through sheer curtains. Birds chirped outside, the scent of jasmine and milk tea floated through the air, and soft childlike laughter echoed down tiled corridors.

Nandhini sat on the porch step in a soft pink nightie, a silk shawl over her shoulders, gently braiding her daughter Kavya’s hair. Her fingers were nimble, practiced. Her heart was full.

Her world was no longer a lie.

It was hers.

And she had built it...one step, one choice, one transformation at a time.

Days With Aarthi

Aarthi still had her teasing eyes and wild spirit, but now they shone with the patience of a mother.

Kavya, their four-year-old daughter, was a blur of anklets and chocolate-stained cheeks, always climbing on someone’s lap or flopping onto Nandhini’s back shouting “Ammaaa!”

Nandhini...during the weekdays - was back to Naveen for the world. He wore simple kurta-pajamas, his long hair tied neatly, and ID hanging from his stethoscope.

But Kavya only knew her as Amma. And she didn’t need an explanation. Children never do.

Aarthi was now pregnant with their second child - seven months along and glowing. Her cravings were intense: hot jeera rice at midnight, thick mango juice at sunrise. And it was always Nandhini who delivered.

In the kitchen, she tied her saree a bit tighter, pinned her dupatta, and ground chutney while humming. When Aarthi waddled in, she’d grin and say:

“Enna darling, doctor-amma ku idli ready.”

They still flirted.

Still kissed behind bedroom doors.

Still made love slowly, delicately - when the baby kicked, they’d pause and giggle.

And at night, when Naveen lay with his head on Aarthi’s lap, she’d stroke his hair and say, “You were born for both lives, da.”

Weekends With Vasanth:

Fridays meant packing a small suitcase. Prosthetics. Nightgowns. Lacy sarees. Lipstick. A bottle of jasmine-scented shampoo.

Nandhini would transform slowly...ritually in front of the mirror at sunset.

Paste the breast forms, fix the seamless pubic patch, smooth foundation over her cheeks, curl her lashes, dab lipstick like poetry.

She’d tie her long hair into a bun and drape her sari in practiced grace.

When she entered the plush white villa Vasanth built for them, it felt like a temple.

“Ammaaaa!” came a squeal. Little Aarav, two years old now, ran to her with chubby arms wide. His eyes were just like Vasanth’s.

That boy was born via surrogacy....but knew only one mother.

And on those weekends, Nandhini was his moon and sun.

Vasanth had built an empire - a multispecialty hospital, hotels, brands, even a tech wing - but every Friday, he came home early. Removed her heels, kissed her feet, and said:

“Vaadi, my queen.”

Their bedroom was lit with soft lamps. Sometimes he made love to her gently, hands running along her thighs. Sometimes he held her all night, whispering about business deals and silly dreams.

She slept in his oversized shirts. He loved her in them.

Three Lives, One Truth

There were whispers.

Some neighbours didn’t understand. Some colleagues gossiped. A few patients paused when Nandhini walked past.

But they had grown immune to such things.

Because the house was filled with love.

Sundays were sacred: the villa was alive with fragrance, laughter, and clutter.

Aarthi made pongal in shorts and a tank top. Vasanth grilled corn. Nandhini braided Kavya’s hair while Aarav bit her dupatta. They watched cartoons, played board games, kissed freely.

And at night, all three sat in the garden under fairy lights.

Aarthi lay her head on Nandhini’s shoulder. Vasanth wrapped an arm around her waist.

Their children giggled nearby.

Nandhini watched the scene, eyes damp.

How had it all happened?

One joke. One transformation. One pink lipstick on a tired Sunday morning.

And now - this.

A life.

The New Beginning:

The last of the older generation had passed. Their parents, their anchors, their silencers....gone peacefully. No more secrets.

No more hiding.

With that, they made a choice.

To return to the beginning.

Pondicherry.

They bought a villa near the beach where it had all started - where the sand first met her anklet, where Aarthi had dared her to try lipstick, where Vasanth had kissed her temple under the floodlights.

They moved in together.

One bedroom for Naveen and Aarthi.
One bedroom for Nandhini and Vasanth.
One for the kids.

Three toothbrushes. One big bed for Sunday naps.

And Nandhini? She chose to live fully now.

Even at work, she appeared sometimes as Naveen, sometimes as Nandhini - depending on the department.

No more shame. No more masks.

Just the truth in different shades.

The Final Scene: Lipstick on the Wind

It was evening. The sky was cotton-candy pink. The breeze salty.

The three of them sat on the beach, just like years ago.

Nandhini wore a soft cotton saree - peach with gold border. Sleeveless blouse. Bangles soft on her wrist. Her hair open, dancing in the breeze.

Aarthi leaned in and kissed her right cheek.

Vasanth kissed the left.

Their kids played ahead, scribbling on the sand.

Behind them stood the villa - the new home.

But Nandhini didn’t follow yet. She stayed behind for a moment.

Alone on the beach. Her feet half buried in warm sand.

She looked up.

The wind picked up gently.

Her lipstick tube, always in her hand, reflected the sun. Pink. Still her favourite.

Lipstick on weekends.

Once, it had been a disguise.

Now, it was her truth.

She smiled.

And walked home.

THE END 🌺

Final Author’s Note:

And that’s a wrap! 💖 Jerusha Anne Joy here, signing off with a heart full of emotions. This entire story started as a simple little fantasy....just me dreaming about a life filled with softness, sparkle, love, and a little bit of chaos 😅✨. Can’t believe I finished it over just two dreamy nights!

Thank you so much for reading till the end. It truly means a lot to me. 💕 If you smiled, blushed, or even sighed while reading, then my job is done. Do drop your thoughts, suggestions, or even story ideas in the comments...I’d love to hear from you!

Until the next story... stay magical 💫
With all my love,
Jerusha 🌸🩷