The Infopark Routine Jan to March
Read Part 1: here
There's something I completely omitted in the first part of my story, mostly because it's the heaviest reality we have to carry. We’re both married. Her husband works for the Central Government and is posted out of Kerala, leaving her with a quiet apartment and a lot of empty evenings. My wife is here with me, working as a teacher, which means her days are structured around early mornings and predictable school schedules. Neither of us was unhappy in our respective marriages. We didn’t enter this looking for an escape from a broken home. But the truth is simple we’re just happier when we are together. That's why I just called her Miss G in the beginning, to keep that wall up.
Once the New Year passed and those first I love you's were out in the open, the months between January and March turned into a finely tuned, high stakes routine right in the middle of Kochi Infopark.
By January, the casual text messages and the lingering anxiety of the early days had completely solidified into an addiction. We became incredibly efficient at managing our double life. During the day, we kept our distance and didn't do anything out of the blue or reckless on the floor. No one in the office suspected a thing because our behavior outside of a standard corporate relationship was completely non existent during business hours. We always stayed late anyway because we genuinely had a massive workload to clear, and it became our natural cover. As the floor began to thin out after 8 00 PM, the atmosphere changed. By 9 00 PM, we were usually the last two people left in the entire bay. The silence of an empty office building is heavy, and just being the last ones there, knowing what was waiting for us once we punched out, made the long hours completely worth it.
When we finally left the campus late at night, navigating the traffic fading out around Kakkanad, we didn’t want to rush. Because her husband was out of town and my wife’s teaching schedule meant she was often asleep early, we found ourselves with pockets of time that we wanted to treat as special. We stopped booking the cheap, hurried rooms. By February, we started booking fancy hotels premium business suites and luxury spots mostly around Ernakulam where the service was invisible and the rooms felt entirely detached from our normal lives. We never travelled outside of ernakulam, but we switched hotels at times to random places around the city to keep things completely low profile. Those premium rooms became a parallel universe. There was no guilt because we didn't allow our home lives to seep into the space. We knew each other’s bodies flawlessly by now. I knew the exact weight of her soft curves as she lay back on the heavy linen sheets. We would spend hours just enjoying the contrast from the exhausting office pressure to the quiet luxury of a suite where she’d be wearing nothing but her favorite black bra, letting me trace the dark moles on her breasts while the city hummed outside the windows. We weren't tearing at each other like animals we took our time, treating every weekend like an exclusive vacation.
Then March came and everything got complicated. Handling everything became too heavy being a husband at home, clearing the workload at office, and then managing these hotel rooms. It was draining me out and I knew as long as we sit in the same floor we won't be able to stop this. So I decided to put in my resignation in March, I got an offer from another company. When I told her, things just went crazy. We didn't stop at all. If anything, knowing that there is an end date made us completely loose control over texts. We were sexting like anything during work hours, just waiting for the floor to get empty. The hotel rooms felt more intense because we both knew the countdown has started and we were just trying to grab every single moment we could before my notice period gets over.
April to June will be the next part.