(All characters are above 18)
I sat stiffly in the passenger seat, my hands clenched in my lap. I had no desire to go to Sharmaji's shop especially after what happened last week. But I had no choice.
_____________________________________________
What happened last week
It was a sunny day, the kind that felt endless and lazy. No one was expected until dinner, and with the servants all on leave for the village festival, the house was blissfully quiet. I decided to spend the afternoon lounging by the pool, relishing the rare solitude. Feeling free and a little daring, I had slipped off my bra and tossed on a thin, flimsy sundress--barely more than a whisper of fabric against my skin. The soft cotton clung lightly to my curves as I settled into a chair with a book, the warmth of the sun lulling me into a doze.
I awoke with a jolt when my father-in-law's voice boomed across the yard, calling my name. Disoriented, I blinked against the sunlight and saw him trudging up the path with Sharmaji, his old friend from the village. Apparently, they'd run into each other at the festival and decided to head back together. My stomach dropped as I scrambled to my feet, heat rushing to my cheeks. A quick glance down confirmed my worst fears: the bikini-style top of my sundress had shifted while I slept, the thin straps slipping low to expose far too much of my creamy breasts. Without a bra, my nipples pressed shamelessly against the sheer white fabric, taut and unmistakable. I was certain even the dark outlines of my areolas peeked through, bold as a scandal in broad daylight.
My father-in-law waved a hand toward the side table where a pitcher of cold juice sat waiting. "Serve us some drinks, beta," he said casually, as if nothing were amiss. He and Sharmaji sank into the low wicker chairs nearby, their weathered faces turning toward me expectantly. Mortified but trapped, I nodded and shuffled over to pour the juice, my hands trembling as I filled two glasses. The sticky-sweet liquid sloshed slightly, mirroring the chaos in my chest.
As I bent forward to hand Sharmaji his drink, the unthinkable happened: the flimsy ties at the back of my neck, already strained from my earlier nap, gave way with a soft pop. The top of my sundress slid down in slow motion, baring my full, heavy breasts right in front of his gaping face. They swayed, soft and unrestrained, mere centimeters from his nose--close enough that I could feel his hot, uneven breath against my skin. My mind screamed, but my body froze, the glasses still clutched in my hands. I couldn't just hurl them aside, and there was no table within reach to set them down. The two old men stared, their eyes wide and unblinking, locked on my exposed chest with a mix of shock and shameless hunger.
Just as I began to straighten up, desperate to salvage some shred of dignity, both Sharmaji and my father-in-law lurched forward--whether to help or for some other reason, I'll never know. My sudden movement threw off their aim, and instead of grabbing the glasses, their hands landed squarely on my bare breasts. Their rough, sweaty palms clamped onto me, fingers splaying awkwardly across my skin. Sharmaji's thick, calloused thumb brushed against my nipple, while my father-in-law's grip was so firm I could feel the grime of the festival still clinging to his skin. I gasped, pinned in place by their clumsy hold, my breasts squashed and jostled under their fumbling grasp.
Blushing so fiercely I thought my face might combust, I stammered, "P-please take the juice, uncle!" My voice cracked, high and pitiful, snapping them out of their trance. They jerked their hands back as if burned, but in their haste, they flailed into the glasses. Sticky juice splashed everywhere--down my chest, over my breasts, and into the shallow dip of my cleavage. The cold liquid trickled down my stomach, soaking the thin dress and plastering it to my skin, outlining every curve in humiliating detail. My nipples, now chilled and wet, poked even more prominently through the drenched fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination.
I shoved the half-empty glasses into their hands, my fingers slick with juice and shame. Their mouths opened and closed like fish out of water, muttering incoherent apologies--or maybe excuses--while their eyes darted guiltily between my face and my chest. With a strangled yelp, I yanked the sodden dress back up, clutching it to my sticky, juice-smeared breasts. The ties dangled uselessly, so I held it in place with one arm, the other flailing for balance as I stumbled backward. My bare feet slipped on the wet tiles, and I nearly toppled into the pool, my dress hiking up to flash the tops of my thighs before I caught myself.
Mortified beyond words, I turned and fled inside, the sound of their awkward coughs and chair-scraping echoing behind me. The juice had seeped into every crevice, leaving a trail of sugary disgrace dripping down my legs. I could still feel the phantom weight of their hands, the damp heat of their stares, and the unbearable stickiness coating my skin. Slamming the door behind me, I leaned against it, panting, wondering how I'd ever face either of them again--or explain the puddle of juice and dignity I'd left behind by the pool.
___________________________________________
Coming back to present
My husband was landing tomorrow morning, and we had a family function to attend. He had explicitly told me to buy a diamond ring as a gift for his cousin's engagement, and I had forgotten. There was no way I could tell him that. His anger was something I had long since learned to avoid at any cost.
Mitraji, my father-in-law, had been insistent about going to Sharmaji's shop. "He is my friend," he had said, as if that justified everything. I had bitten my tongue, knowing there was no point in arguing. Just a few minutes. Just one purchase. And then I could leave.
Mitraji pulled into the parking spot. The moment had arrived. I straightened my shoulders, bracing myself for the encounter ahead. I would get the ring and leave. Quickly. Efficiently. Without giving Sharmaji a chance to make my skin crawl.
Sharmaji's round face lit up as he saw us, his thick fingers adjusting the gold chain around his neck. "Ah, Mitraji! Welcome, welcome! And Anju bitiya, such a pleasure to see you! His eyes lingered on me for just a second too long, making my spine stiffen.
Raj, standing behind the counter, nodded politely. "Please, sit. What can we show you today?"
Mitraji chuckled. "A diamond ring. My son insists on a grand gift, and well, this shop is the best place for it."
"Ah, a diamond ring! Of course, of course!" Sharmaji beamed, his gaze flicking to me before he gestured to Raj. "Bring out our finest selection."
I forced myself to smile, hoping to mask my discomfort.
Raj unlocked the glass case, pulling out a velvet tray shimmering with diamonds of all cuts and sizes. I leaned forward, focusing on the rings, trying to block out the weight of Sharmaji's gaze.
"This one is exquisite," Raj said, pointing to a delicate ring with a marquise-cut stone.
"Yes, very fine," Mitraji agreed, adjusting his glasses. "Anju, what do you think?"
I picked it up, turning it in my fingers. "It's lovely. Do you have anything simpler?"
Raj reached into the case again, but his hand paused. His brow furrowed. "That's strange... one of the rings is missing."
Sharmaji's expression darkened. "Missing? What do you mean, missing? We never lose anything here."
I glanced up, my unease shifting into alertness. Raj carefully counted the rings again, then looked up, his face pale. "I set out five rings. There are only four now."
Mitraji frowned. "Are you sure? Maybe it was misplaced?"
Sharmaji's gaze swept over the empty showroom. There were no other customers. His lips pressed into a thin line.
"I'm sorry, Anju," he said, his voice firm. "But we have to search you."
My breath caught. "What? You think I took it?"
"It's not about suspicion," Mitraji interjected gently. "It's procedure. A ring is missing, and you were the only one handling them."
Before I could protest further, Raj's voice cut through the tension. "Wait--there's something on the floor."
We turned toward the velvet chair. There, glinting under the warm store lights, was the missing ring.
Relief flooded my chest, but Sharmaji wasn't done. "We still need to check that nothing else is missing." His eyes met mine, unreadable. "Just to be sure."
"If you're innocent, you won't mind a pbrar search." Raj said.
"If she refuses, we call the police," Sharmaji interrupted. His voice was cold now. "It's standard practice."
A shiver ran down my spine. My gaze darted toward the door. "Can... Can we do this privately?" My voice was barely above a whisper.
Sharmaji's expression didn't soften. "Of course," he said. "Right this way.
My pulse pounded as I followed Sharmaji into the back room. The air felt heavier here, the walls closing in. Raj and Mitraji stepped in behind me, their expressions unreadable.
I swallowed hard. "Can you at least send my father-in-law away?"
No ma'am, having someone from your family would ensure that we did not force your consent. You will also feel much safer.
What about Mr Sharma? Does he need to be here?
As the owner it's his right ma'am. We carry millions worth of diamonds. In instances such as this he has a right to oversee the process.
Now I turned to Sharmaji as my last resort "Please uncle, do not make me go through this. You know our family. We are not thieves. You know my husband - he will be so angry at me. Please please" tears started to flow as I pleaded.
Sharma ji shook his head "I am so sorry dear. I have a great friendship with your father in law. And I am aware of Vidhaat's anger. I am sure he will take it as an affront to this pride. But I can not skip protocols. I have to either call the police or do a search in this situation."
"But sir this is a misunderstanding. I have not taken anything." I pleaded.
"Then you don't have to worry about anything dear. Let them search you and they will not find anything. None of us will tell Vidhaat about this incident at all. Does that sound ok Mitraji?"
"Of Course most generous terms considering the situation." My father in law agreed vigorously.
I felt nauseated about being searched in front of these two old men. "Cant you get a woman to do the search?"
Sharmaji shook his head "I am sorry dear. We opened the shop after closing hours at your father in law's request. Since he is such an old friend, I myself came with my son, Raj. There is no one we can all. It's either us or the police."
My father in law nodded in approval "Of Course since it's just the 4 of us, we can be sure the information will be contained. It's safer for you also Anjali beta. Think about what Vidhaat will do if the police are involved."
Raj + Sharmaji