As Rohit was called upstairs, he silently followed Ragini's footsteps.
The main lights were off, and only a few zero-watt bulbs lit the hallway, casting a faint glow to guide the way.
Ragini briefly showed him around—his room, the joint kitchen, and the dining area.
It was well past midnight. Before disappearing into her room, she told him to join her in the kitchen if he was hungry.
Rohit stepped into his room and opened the lights.
It was spacious—a single large bedroom with a study table and a desktop computer. A customized PlayStation sat nearby, and the attached bathroom completed the setup. The place felt more like a cozy bunker built to survive any future apocalypse.
Just then, his stomach growled. The hospital had only given him a few sandwiches and some bananas—hardly enough for dinner.
Snapping out of his daze, he looked for the wardrobe, changed into a loose T-shirt and joggers, and headed to the kitchen.
The kitchen was dim, lit only by a flickering tubelight.
He opened the fridge and began rummaging through the containers, finding a few neatly preserved dishes.
Just as he was deciding what to eat, the soft sound of footsteps reached his ears.
Turning to the entrance, he froze.
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Ragini had returned, and the sight of her made his jaw drop.
She was wearing a blue nightwear with a deep V-neck which looked more like a mini one-piece. It hung loosely on her frame, yet every movement seemed to highlight her curves in all the right ways.
A strip of her matching black bra peeked from the neckline, making her soft cleavage all the more soothing to his eyes.
She walked past him silently. Her movements were casual.
"What do you want?" she asked softly.
"Noodles," Rohit replied without thinking.
She raised an eyebrow, almost scoffing. "Oats."
Without waiting, she took out a jar of milk, poured some oats into a bowl and began preparing them at the counter with practiced ease.
He smirked to himself, thinking, "So this is the secret of her ageless beauty… bland, tasteless oats."
He pulled out a chair across the dining table to get a better look at her. She had her back to him as she worked.
Her tall frame—he'd guessed around 5'8"—made the outfit appear even shorter than it probably was. His gaze inevitably trailed down to where the dress hugged her thighs, clinging just a little too dangerously. Her ass, plump as 'W', was almost on the verge of popping out, the thin outline of it showing.
For a moment, Rohit found himself tempted. If she bent even slightly, maybe...
But she didn't. Time zipped by unnoticed.
Then suddenly, she turned—and caught him staring at wrong place.
He quickly looked away, unsure of what to say or how to act.
She handed him the bowl she'd just prepared and took her seat across from him, her cup of hot milk in hand.
They sat facing each other in silence.
Only the soft clink of spoons and the faint slurp of milk broke the stillness.
The air still crackled with the tension of what had happened earlier. But neither of them said a word.
Then, without looking at him, Ragini asked:
"Why did you say that?"
Rohit looked at her and asked innocently,"What do you mean by what I said? Any reference?"
She finally looked up. "The love. Back there. You said you loved it."
He blinked, trying to recall the moment. "Oh… that. I don't know. It just felt… right to say." Then he turned his attention back to what he was doing—completely unfazed.
She studied his face. He wasn't mocking her. He wasn't trying to provoke. He was just… being honest.
She had been stressing over those words all this time, only to find this boy tossing them around like air.
Did words like mom and son mean nothing to him?Could memory loss really change someone this much?
"You've changed," she murmured.
He met her eyes. "I don't know if I've changed, Mom… but I know what I feel hasn't."
Her expression darkened. A flicker of conflict passed across her face.
Ragini drank the last sip of her milk in silence. As she stood up, she paused at the doorway and added, almost without looking back:
"Before you sleep… come to my room. And don't call me 'Mom.'"
Rohit raised an eyebrow but didn't respond. But the hunger he felt now had nothing to do with food.
Moments later,
As Rohit entered her room, a soft red glow bathed the space in warmth and quiet tension.
But the initial flicker of excitement in his eyes dimmed as soon as he saw her.
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Ragini was sitting on the edge of the bed, lost in thought, her expression distant. Tear stains lined the edges of her cheeks, though she tried to wipe them away discreetly as he stepped closer.
Without meeting his eyes, she gestured to the bed."Sit."
He obeyed, cautiously. He had a very bad feeling.
Then, her voice came again—low, shaky, but direct:"Lower your pants."
Rohit stared at her, his jaw tightening. This is different. Her tears weren't fake — they were raw, messy, and far too real. What the hell did that doctor tell her? If she kept breaking down like this, he would never get the real version of her. Not the one he truly wanted.
She repeated herself, this time with a hint of insistence.
But, Rohit shook his head in a firm and cold denial.
"No."
Ragini's eyes widened in surprise and panic. "What… what went wrong? This is what the doctor—"
"I don't want it," he said firmly.
She ran her fingers through her hair, clearly spiraling. "You think I want to do this? I'm doing it for your treatment, Rohit. For your recovery. What more do you want from me?"
Rohit looked at her gently, but steady."That's exactly the problem. It feels empty. You're not here. You're just… doing your duty. I don't want a forced handjob out of pity or obligation. It makes me feel like shit."
She tried to suppress the tension building in her chest. The doctor's words echoed in her mind. Still, she forced a smile, softened her voice."Rohit… this is important for your recovery. For your sense of grounding. No one is judging you. No one blames you."
But Rohit's next words hit like a bolt.
"Then why did you slap me earlier?"
He looked her in the eyes. "Did my touch really disgust you that much? Did it feel like a bug crawling on your skin?"
Ragini's breath hitched.
"I can't do this if you feel nothing for me." He continued, voice low but firm, "Earlier I agreed because I thought… you were enjoying it too. Not just me. Aren't we supposed to be family? Or was I mistaken?" he paused staring into her wide, frozen eyes," I'm sorry, Mrs. Singhania. I'm not selfish enough to use someone who doesn't feel it."
Ragini winced at the title.
Trying to regain control, she snapped—almost reflexively:"Don't be selfish. Just listen—"
"No," Rohit cut in. "You're the one being selfish. You're not even listening to yourself." His voice dropped, "Tell me I was wrong. Tell me you didn't feel anything… not even a little."
Silence!
Ragini's lips trembled. For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then, curling her legs up to her chest, she looked toward the dim-lit wall and whispered,"Life is such a circus, Rohit. We think we have control. But life… it reminds us we don't. Every time."
She took a deep breath and continued, voice quieter now:
"If I'm being honest… yes. I felt something. Something I shouldn't have. And that terrifies me."
Her voice cracked.
"I'm married. Bound to someone else. And yet… I felt it. I felt good. And I hate myself for it."
She wiped another tear from her cheek."You want a simple answer, but there isn't one. You're young. You have time. Maybe what you're feeling is just infatuation. One day, it'll fade… and you'll regret all this. You'll hate me for letting it happen. You'll say I ruined you."
She choked back a sob."And worst of all… I'll be remembered as the mother who felt pleasure where she shouldn't have."
Rohit gently reached forward and cupped her cheeks.
"You're wrong," he said softly. "To me, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And the best mother anyone could ask for… even if I can't remember most things."
He paused, searching her eyes.
"I know there are lines we shouldn't cross. But it still takes courage to admit what we need… even if we stop ourselves. I'm just glad you're honest with me."
He gently wiped her tears.
"Don't cry because of someone like me. You don't deserve that pain."
Ragini leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him tightly. He hugged her back, feeling her soft breasts press against his chest through the thin nightwear. His cock was rock hard against her stomach, and he was sure she could feel it. He didn't pull away.
After a long moment, she whispered with a weak, nervous laugh, "And… don't call me Mom when we're like this."
Rohit smiled, whispering,"Your wish is my command… my lady."
She let out a faint giggle.
He pulled back slightly, looked at her flushed, tear-streaked face and slightly parted lips. The old man inside him wanted to push further, wanted to kiss her properly, slide his hand between her thighs and see how wet she actually was. But he held back.
Not yet. Something is messing up inside.
He leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on her cheek, then whispered near her ear, "Good night, sweetheart."
With that, he stood up and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.
Ragini stayed sitting on the bed, heart hammering, body warm in places she didn't want to acknowledge. Guilt, relief, shame, and something dangerously close to desire all twisted together inside her.
She didn't know what she was feeling anymore.