Vijay: The reluctant woman

Chapter 9: The Unexpected Visitor

The small lodge room was dimly lit by a single yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling. Priyanka sat on the edge of the thin mattress, still wearing the deep blue saree from the day’s travel. The fabric clung to her body, the tight blouse stretching across her heavy F-cup breasts, the low-tied saree exposing the soft, smooth expanse of her midriff. Her long braid with jasmine flowers rested over one shoulder. She looked every bit the beautiful, vulnerable young wife after a long journey — sensual, exhausted, and completely out of place in this cheap roadside lodge.

Suresh had just stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a white towel wrapped low around his waist, water still glistening on his muscular chest. Priyanka was trying to process the sight of the real man behind Sandhya when —

*Knock! Knock! Knock!*

A loud, impatient banging on the wooden door made Priyanka jump. Her heart slammed against her ribs like a trapped bird. She looked at Suresh with wide, terrified eyes.

Suresh raised a calming hand and walked to the door, still in just the towel. He opened it a crack.

A police constable stood outside — a middle-aged man in a crumpled khaki uniform, holding a torch. His eyes narrowed as he peered into the room, first at the half-naked Suresh, then past him to Priyanka sitting nervously on the bed.

“Routine check,” the constable growled in Telugu. “Men bring prostitutes to these cheap lodges all the time. Let me see who is inside.”

Before Suresh could respond, the constable pushed the door wider. His gaze landed directly on Priyanka. He took in her trembling figure, the deep cleavage heaving with fear, the bare midriff, the full curves visible under the blue saree. Her nervous, downcast eyes and feminine beauty only confirmed his suspicion.

“Arre o randi!” the constable shouted angrily. “Come here, you whore! How many times have I told you people not to spoil these villages? Get up! You’re coming with me to the station right now!”

Priyanka froze. The harsh Telugu swear words hit her like physical blows. Her face went pale. Her glossy lips parted but no sound came out. Her entire body began to tremble uncontrollably. The heavy breasts rose and fell rapidly, drawing the constable’s angry stare even more. She wanted to scream, to run, to hide — but terror had locked her voice and legs. *They found me. They know. This is the end.*

The constable stepped inside the room aggressively, raising his hand to grab her arm. “You deaf or what? Get up, you cheap prostitute! Paid by this fellow, eh?”

Priyanka shrank back against the wall, tears of pure fear filling her kajal-lined eyes. She looked small, helpless, and utterly feminine — exactly like the prostitute the constable had assumed she was.

Suresh moved like lightning.

He stepped firmly between the constable and Priyanka, his bare muscular chest blocking the man’s path. His voice boomed with genuine anger. “How dare you call my wife a prostitute?! How dare you enter our room and shout filthy words at her? We are a married couple, you bastard!”

The constable was taken aback by the sudden fury of the strong, half-naked man. He stepped back slightly, but his pride wouldn’t let him retreat completely. “Wife? Every rascal caught red-handed says the same story! What proof do you have, eh? Show me proof that this randi is your wife!”

Priyanka’s fear reached new heights. Her hands shook violently. She could barely breathe. The nightmare of being dragged to the station, stripped of her disguise, and exposed as the wanted man from Hyderabad flashed before her eyes.

Suresh’s face turned red with rage. He pushed the constable back forcefully with one hand, then stormed toward the luggage in the corner. He rummaged angrily through a bag and pulled out an old-looking photo album. He thrust it into the constable’s hands.

“Look for yourself!” Suresh shouted. “And then get the hell out of our room!”

The constable opened the album suspiciously. His eyes moved across the pages. His angry expression slowly melted into shock, then deep shame and regret.

The constable closed the album slowly. His face was now burning with embarrassment. He looked at Priyanka, then at Suresh, and folded his hands.

“Saar… Amma… sorry… big mistake,” he muttered in a low voice. “I thought… these lodges… you know… Please forgive me. I won’t disturb you again.”

He backed out of the room quickly and disappeared down the corridor, clearly humiliated.

The door clicked shut.

Priyanka remained frozen against the wall, still trembling, unable to move or speak. Her mind was spinning. Slowly, with great effort, she gathered some courage and reached out. Suresh handed her the album silently.

She opened it with shaking hands.

The first few pages showed her — Priyanka — in beautiful sarees, standing close to Suresh, smiling in wedding finery. Honeymoon photos by the river. Intimate couple pictures. And then the baby photos — Priyanka holding a small child, Suresh standing proudly beside her, both looking like a real, loving family.

Priyanka stared at the images, completely stunned beyond words. Her glossy lips parted in shock. Tears rolled down her cheeks. These photos were fake — expertly created — yet they looked so real, so convincing. They showed a complete life she had never lived.

She looked up at Suresh, who was now watching her with quiet, understanding eyes, still wearing only the towel.

The emotional weight of everything — the fear, the humiliation, the perfect forged proof of a life that wasn’t hers — crashed over her like a wave. She clutched the album to her heavy chest and broke down into silent, shaking sobs.

Suresh sat beside her gently and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You’re welcome, wifey,” he whispered. “Sometimes the best lies are the ones that save us.”

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To be continued..