I had been back in New York for two days when the package arrived. It lay at the centre of my desk and was the size of a shoebox. The address was hand...ritten. I knew the familiar curls, the generous lettering. Maybe I shouldn't open it, I thought, while my fingers were already opening it.The box was crammed with balled-up white tissues. On top lay the yellow piece of paper I had left on her chest while she was sleeping. It had obviously been crumpled before being smoothed out again; the ink of. As if my normal pretext of returning a novel, I reached and rang the doorbell. To my stunning surprise, Priti opened the door with a warm smile. She was wearing a sky-blue color chiffon see thru saree and a matching blouse. She had put on light make up making her very stunning and sexy. She told me to come inside the house and I said that I had come to return the novel. She asked me about how was it and we stared to discuss about novel and author. She told me that her husband had promised her. More

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