My Wife and Her Hot Friend

Chapter one

After a long, mundane day at work, I was driving back home expecting my wife to have cooked a mouth-watering meal. As I near the lane that leads to my home the buttery smell of Pav Bhaji floats towards me. I slow down in front of this famous Chat place but then step on the pedal and accelerate hoping she would be home today. Lately she had been going out a lot; to meet some mysterious friend.

I was glad to find her home. Being a housewife must have bored the hell out of her, I thought, for she was seeking new company all the time. Before we got married, she was a popular fashion designer; people went crazy for her out-of-the-box designs. But after marriage, however, she had to busy herself with the boring household chores. 'It's alright, Anu, baby, family is most important to me. You are most important.' She used to say whenever I ask her to resume her endeavors in the fashion-industry. Although that's what she always says, I could sometimes see in her eyes that she missed her old life. She missed it dearly; the better, more fun life.

I have always felt bad for her, that she had to give up her career for the sake of me. But was glad when she started, in her spare time, to create designs on her computer and put them up on her blog; the blog I developed for her.

I still remember the first time I showed her this new, cool-looking website I created for her, told it was her own fashion blog. She was so excited she made crazy love to me that night. One of the best love-making I ever experienced. Her passion for me knew no bounds.

Today, she practically flew out the front door when she heard my car roll down the front yard. She welcomed me home with a squishy hug and a wet kiss on my lips. It feels great to be married, I thought. Such innocence, such kindness, such love — Reema is truly an angel; with dark, curly hair, gorgeous almond eyes, olive smooth skin, and a beautiful young face — one would easily mistake her for my daughter.

She wrapped her petite arms around me barely making a full-circle. I must hit the gym and stop having so many fries. I made a mental note as I smelled her hair and patted her back before she looked at me. I smiled at her. You are so damn beautiful, what in the hell are you doing with a fatso like me?

Reema was way out of my league with an incredible 34-inch bust on a slim, petite torso. She could have literally married any guy; any good-looking guy. But she married me instead. I've felt grateful for that every single day. God, you sent me one of your angels. She always brings the best in me.

Since my early childhood, as far as I can remember, I had always been the butt of the joke. Being fat and not so tall made me an easy target. It didn't do much to my confidence and was always insecure about the way I looked. I've never gotten used to it; all the teasing, mocking and the insults. Like the coward I was, I never stood up to myself and instead just let those cruel bastards get their way with me. Being polite and kind is as good as marking your head with the word 'Target' on it. Kindness, in reality, will never get you far in life. But I couldn't help but be polite. Was it kindness or cowardice? It's one of the things about me. Not even in my dreams can I hurt somebody.

So, instead of standing my ground, tired and unable to face the torture any longer, I ran away. Why do you care if I am fat? Look at the way you annoy people. You, laughing at me, what have you achieved with your life? I am an incredible coder, and you, you are spending your father's cash. I wanted to say, but never did.

Isolation was the only way to keep my sanity. So I left the city in hopes of starting a new life. It was exciting in the beginning and soon it got to me; the loneliness, the depression. Horrible. I had almost given up on life altogether. That's when I found hope in the form of a woman. A woman so kind and beautiful; a woman who didn't care if I was fat; a woman named Reema. I fell in love with her instantly and fortunately for me, she liked me too, and for who I was. When I started starving myself and working out like a maniac she said, 'Anurag, I like you the way you are. And I know how much of a foodie you are. Don't starve for my sake, please?' My life was perfect. There was nothing else I wanted with Reema by my side.

We soon got married.

But this story isn't about my beautiful wife, or my perfect life. It is about the person I was about to meet. When I was outside my house, however—savoring the delightful embrace of my wife—lost in her sweet smell, I had no clue what was waiting for me inside.

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