The Charade

31| 𝕺𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖆𝖒𝖊 𝖕𝖆𝖌𝖊

Chapter 32 and 33 are now available on Scrollstack.

KASHI'S POV

"Ahh, Maa, I can't move," I winced in pain as my eight-month baby bump became a hurdle in my sleep. My eyes were teary, and I hated myself for crying so much, but I couldn't help it.

I managed to sit up in bed, though my back ached terribly.

'That's why he kept telling you to stop, but you were begging for him to go harder, you horny woman,' my subconscious mocked me.

I pressed my lips into a thin line. He had warned me it might be too much for me, yet I still craved the feeling of his fingers deep inside while his mouth worked on my tits.

My baby bump had made it difficult for us to be fully intimate, though he found other ways to pleasure me. I've turned into a chubby little rice ball, but I don't care about how I look because he belongs to me, and he has no choice but to stay.

He can never leave me because Agnihotris don't divorce.

Crazy people.

But it works in my favor.

I got out of bed and went to the washroom to freshen up and shower. Afterward, I put on a beige maxi dress and sat in front of the mirror to comb my hair and get ready for the day. I feel so tired during this pregnancy, and I can't do much makeup, so I settled for applying some lip balm and combing my hair.

My face always glows like the moon. Whenever I cry about my looks he said this to me and now I have started to feel the same as well. He looks so handsome while I feel like a potato. But he likes potatoes, he said this.

I touched my cheeks with my index finger, and my chubby cheeks jiggled cutely. It's something he does when I'm close to fall asleep. He doesn't show much affection when we're awake, and neither do I.

We're still on the same page we were on when we got married. We're married, and we fuck. That's it. There's no love between us.

I think it's my fault. He cares for me, and I've been nothing but a bitch to him, always pushing him away when he showed concern. Not that I act bratty when he does, but I just don't put in any effort.

He treats me like I'm made of glass, and I don't even show him any care in return. I stay quiet and let him do what he wants—not only physically, but emotionally too. When it comes to expressing myself, I just can't, and I don't.

I didn't want to give him false hope.

I wanted him to think of me as a desperate woman, and I succeeded. He thinks of me as a wife who's only needy for her husband's cock, and yes, that's what I wanted.

I wanted him to know that I trust him, and us.

Since the beginning, I've been successful in making him see me the way I wanted—whether as innocent, rude, arrogant, or a desperate wife.