Mother of Me

Chapter 20: The Slow Siege

The ninth day of the swap began in silence and fear.

The new Sangeetha woke up before the alarm, her body already tense even in sleep. The light blue nighty was damp with sweat. Her heavy breasts felt sore from lying on her side. Between her legs, the sanitary pad was still in place, a constant uncomfortable reminder of her current reality. She lay there for a few moments, staring at the ceiling, heart pounding at the thought that Selvam was just outside the locked door.

She didn’t want to face him. But she had no choice.

She got up quietly, took a long bath, letting the warm water wash over her curvy body. She soaped her breasts carefully, feeling their weight and sensitivity. The nipples hardened under her fingers. She cleaned her vagina with gentle, reluctant touches, still finding the sensations foreign and humiliating. After drying herself, she stood naked in front of the mirror for a long moment, studying the body she was trapped in the soft belly, wide hips, thick thighs, and full breasts.

She chose a simple maroon cotton saree with a small golden check pattern. She wanted to look traditional and modest today. She wore a fresh black bra that pushed her breasts up firmly, creating deep cleavage. The black panty with a fresh sanitary napkin followed. She tied the petticoat low on her hips, then draped the saree with practiced (yet still clumsy) movements. The silk cotton blend clung to her body, accentuating her curves. She pinned the pallu securely over her left shoulder, making sure it covered her chest well.

She completed the look with mangalsutra, bangles, anklets, toe rings, earrings, and a fresh application of sindoor and bindi. She tied her long hair into a neat bun. When she looked at herself, she saw a perfect, dutiful Tamil wife staring back.

She took a deep breath and unlocked the bedroom door.

Selvam was already awake, sitting on the sofa watching morning news. He had made coffee. The aroma filled the house.

The moment he saw her, his face softened into a warm smile.

“Good morning, darling,” he said gently, standing up. “I made coffee for you. Just the way you like it, strong with less sugar.”

The new Sangeetha’s hands trembled as she took the steel tumbler from him. The coffee was warm. She took a small sip, eyes lowered, unable to meet his gaze.

Selvam gently held her free hand, his rough palm enveloping her soft one. “Come, sit with me,” he said softly, pulling her to sit beside him on the sofa. He kept holding her hand, his thumb gently stroking the back of it.

For the next forty minutes, he asked her many questions, slow, careful, and detailed.

“How have you managed the house all these years alone?”
“How was Prakash’s studies? Did he give you any trouble?”
“How is your teaching job? Do the children listen to you?”
“Have you been eating properly? You’ve become a little thin…”

The new Sangeetha answered as best as she could, inventing details where she didn’t know. Her voice stayed soft and feminine, exactly like her mother’s. Every time Selvam looked at her mangalsutra, sindoor, or toe rings, his eyes filled with emotion.

“You kept everything together so beautifully,” he said, voice thick with gratitude. “Even after I abandoned you, you stayed loyal. You raised our son alone. I don’t deserve you, Sangeetha. But I promise, our life is going to be good from now on. I have enough savings. I’ll take care of everything. You don’t have to struggle anymore.”

He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the forehead.

The new Sangeetha froze. The touch of his lips on her skin sent waves of fear and disgust through her body. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to run. But she only gave a weak, trembling smile.

Just then, the new Prakash came out of his room, still in T-shirt and shorts.

He stopped dead when he saw his “father” sitting so close to his “mother,” holding her hand.

Selvam smiled at him warmly. “Come here, son. Don’t be scared. I know I was a terrible father before. But I’ve changed. We’ll have proper father-son bonding from today. I’ll teach you everything I learnt. Don’t worry about anything anymore.”

The new Prakash could only nod stiffly, standing awkwardly near the sofa, too scared to sit

Later that morning, Selvam found the letter from the House Owners Association (HOA) about the first official meeting for all new residents.

“We should go together,” he told his wife. “As a couple. Let everyone know the family is complete now.”

The new Sangeetha had no choice but to agree.

She changed into a slightly more elegant peach saree with a matching blouse. Selvam wore a formal shirt and trousers. They walked to the community hall together. Selvam kept his hand on her waist possessively the entire way. The new Sangeetha felt deeply humiliated walking beside him like a dutiful wife, her anklets chiming, breasts swaying gently with each step.

At the HOA meeting, they became the centre of attention.

Lalitha, Meenakshi, Divya, and the other neighbours greeted them warmly.

“Arre! Sangeetha’s husband has finally returned!” Lalitha exclaimed happily.

Everyone introduced themselves to Selvam. The men shook hands with him, while the women complimented how beautiful “Sangeetha” looked and how lucky she was to have her husband back. Selvam proudly introduced himself as a returned NRI who had worked in high-risk security projects abroad.

The new Sangeetha sat silently beside him, smiling when required, adjusting her pallu constantly, feeling every eye on her body. The sanitary pad, the heavy breasts, the tight blouse, the mangalsutra, everything felt like a prison.

That night, after returning home, they were eating dinner when the news came on TV.

The anchor announced: “Breaking News The National Eligibility cum Entrance Test (NEET) has been cancelled due to technical irregularities. A re-examination will be conducted in one month.”

The new Prakash’s face changed. He had already given two attempts. This meant another month of waiting and preparation.

Selvam patted his son’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m here now. I’ll help you prepare properly this time.”

The new Sangeetha sat quietly, her mind completely overwhelmed.

She was trapped in her mother’s body.
Her real mother was trapped in her son’s body.
Her abusive father had returned, acting loving and reformed.
And now even the NEET results were delayed.

The walls felt like they were slowly closing in.

As she cleared the dinner plates, her hands still shaking, she wondered how much longer she could keep acting like the perfect, loyal wife before something broke.