In the aftermath of that festival night, Kathir’s days became a living purgatory, while his nights remained a celestial sanctuary. The few hours he had spent with Vanitha Anni at the garden house had injected a lethal addiction into his veins. Whenever he chanced upon her in the village, her serene, composed face left him in awe. 'Is this truly the same woman who was so feral, so uninhibited with me last night?' he would wonder, captivated by her duality.

Vanitha was equally adept at this dangerous game. The same voice that called him 'Brother-in-law' in front of Suresh would, after midnight, whisper breathless tributes to his masculinity over the phone. "Kathir... the places you touched are still burning," she would murmur, making him ache to sprint back to that secluded garden. However, the prying eyes of the village were everywhere, relentless and unforgiving. They teetered on a fine line between the paralyzing fear of exposure and the sheer, adrenaline-pumping thrill of their illicit bond.