The Hockey’s Plaything
Papa-ji won't mind.
She sat between them on the worn sofa, the air thick with tobacco and tension. Stories flowed, Mr. Gupta recounting his early marriage, the duties that bound a man to his wife. His voice deepened, eyes fixed on Priya. 'A good bahu knows her place, serving her husband... and his family.'
Arjun's hand rested on her thigh, squeezing possessively. The whiskey warmed Priya's cheeks, loosening her inhibitions. She laughed at their jokes, her saree pallu slipping to reveal the swell of her cleavage.