Willingly Broken

Chapter 12: The Month of a New Mother

A full month had passed since I brought the little boy home.

His name was officially Karthik now, Karthik Murugan. I had thought about my revenge every single day. The pendrive with all the evidence was still hidden safely inside my handbag. One call to my secret lawyer and everything would collapse for Vinu, Lata, and the others within hours. I could have ended this humiliating life at any moment.

But I didn’t.

I persisted.

Because every time I looked at Karthik’s innocent face, something inside me softened. The revenge that once burned like fire now felt… distant.

The days blurred into a new rhythm.

Every morning I woke up at 5:30 a.m., still in my nightie, mangalsutra around my neck. Karthik would be curled up against my chest. I would gently kiss his forehead, then carry him to the small bathroom for his bath.

I loved bathing him.

I would remove my nightie, keep only my black bra and panty, and sit on the plastic stool with Karthik on my lap. Warm water, mild baby soap, and his happy giggles filled the tiny bathroom. He loved playing with the water, splashing it on my breasts and mangalsutra. I would laugh softly while washing his soft hair, cleaning his tiny body, and singing old Tamil lullabies I never thought I would sing. The flat steel cage between my legs often got wet, but I didn’t care. These moments felt strangely pure.

By 7 a.m., I would be fully dressed in a fresh saree, usually a simple cotton one, feeding him breakfast while Murugan watched us quietly from the corner.

Murugan had changed.

He drank far less now. The strong smell of whiskey that used to fill the room every night had reduced to occasional mild drinking. He started coming home early, played with Karthik for hours, lifting him high in the air while the boy screamed with joy. He even became gentler with me.

He no longer slapped my ass roughly in front of others. Instead, he would sometimes touch my waist softly or tuck jasmine in my hair before leaving for work. It confused me deeply.

Vinu and Lata didn’t care much about the child. As long as he didn’t disturb their lifestyle, they ignored him. Sujata occasionally complained about extra work but mostly stayed out of it.

Only Charu understood.

One afternoon while Charu and I were washing clothes in the backyard, she whispered while beating a bedsheet.

“Sir… I mean, akka… are you still going ahead with the plan?”

I looked around to make sure no one was near, then smiled softly while scrubbing one of Vinu’s panties.

“Yes, Charu. I haven’t forgotten. All the evidence is ready. But… just a little more time. The child needs us right now.”

Charu nodded slowly, understanding the conflict in my heart. “Be careful. Don’t lose yourself completely.”

I didn’t reply. I wasn’t sure anymore.

The Weekend Outing

That Saturday, Murugan surprised us.

“Get ready. We are going out as a family.”

He took us on his old Royal Enfield bike. I sat behind him in a beautiful new maroon saree he had bought for me the previous day, Karthik sitting safely between us. My pallu fluttered in the wind as we rode along ECR. Murugan had spoilt Karthik completely, new clothes, toys, chocolates, and even a small gold chain for him.

At a seaside restaurant, he fed me pieces of fish fry with his own hands while Karthik sat on my lap eating ice cream. People around us smiled, assuming we were a normal middle class family. Murugan looked proud. For the first time, I didn’t feel pure humiliation. I felt… strangely warm.

A few days later, Murugan came home with official documents.

Birth certificate, Aadhaar card update, school admission papers, everything was forged beautifully. Karthik Murugan, son of Murugan and Mahalaxmi Murugan. As if we had always been his real parents.

I signed the papers as Mahalaxmi without hesitation.

That Night

It was past 10:30 p.m. Karthik was fast asleep between us on the bed, hugging his new teddy bear.

I was in the tiny kitchen, still wearing my maroon saree, washing the dinner vessels. The mangalsutra swayed between my breasts as I worked. My glass bangles clinked softly against the steel plates.

I felt two strong arms wrap around me from behind.

Murugan.

He was slightly drunk, but not rough tonight. His embrace was gentle. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his breath warm against my ear.

“Mahalaxmi…” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

“I’m sorry.”

I froze, hands still in the soapy water.

“I never had any personal grudge against Monish. He was actually a good man. But I wanted a better life. Vinu and Lata promised me money, respect, a family… so I helped them. Whatever we did to you… I know it was wrong. But look at us now. We have a child. A real family. Let’s leave everything behind. Let’s live this life properly. I will be a good husband. I promise.”

His hands moved slowly, one slipping under my pallu and gently cupping my breast inside the blouse, not squeezing, just holding it tenderly. His thumb brushed over my nipple softly.

I stood there silently for a long moment.

I understood him. I really did. Life had been cruel to him too.

But I couldn’t forgive him. Not fully. Not for what they did to me.

Still…

I turned around in his arms, looked into his eyes, and did something I never thought I would do.

I kissed him.

It was a long, deep, passionate kiss. My red lips pressed against his. My tongue met his. My heavy breasts pressed into his chest. My glass bangles chimed as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He held me tightly, one hand on my waist, the other still inside my blouse.

When we finally parted, both of us were breathing heavily.

I rested my forehead against his chest and whispered to myself inside my head:

No matter what… I will take revenge one day.

But till then…

Let me live this life just a little longer.