Yours, Eternally

Compromising

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I once saw someone asking a question to writers on Wattpad: Do you take Covid-19 into consideration while writing your books, or do you set your books in the past or future, or do you pretend that Covid-19 never existed.

Well, I'm not going to mention it, since, hopefully, people are going to be reading this long after the tragic year 2020. This story is set whenever the readers want it to be set

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Zain

Tara married you despite knowing that you're in love with someone else. She's behaving uncharacteristically because of the drowning incident. I shouldn't have yelled at her like that, especially not so publicly, in front of everyone including Sana.

I should especially not have yelled at her in front of Sana.

I'm such a pr**k.

But it hurt a lot, her lack of trust in me.

I kept thinking these things again and again, seemingly in a loop.

I shook my head as I drove home. How had things gotten so bad between us?

I pulled into the secure car parking for the residents of the apartment building, and noticed Tara's car parked there. I felt briefly relieved that she was still there before I remembered that she wasn't driving these days. Grabbing my laptop bag from the back, I headed inside. I had to take a few moments to calm myself down before I unlocked the front door.

The flat was silent, almost deadly silent. Usually when I walked in I heard the TV, or music from Tara's phone as she made dinner in the kitchen. I walked through the empty flat, and it soon became obvious that she wasn't there. Why would she be here? You asked her to leave.

When I got upstairs to our room, I immediately spotted Sir Quackers on the bed, along with a folded piece of paper. Picking it up, I unfolded it and my heart sank as I read it:

I'm not going to my parents' house. It was hard enough to get them to like you after they found out the truth, and I can't put them through any more stress. Don't worry though, I can look after myself perfectly well. 

-Tara.

"Ya Allah! Tara, where did you go?!" I tilted my head back, closing my eyes.

Tara was technically my responsibility, and if anything happened to her, it was on my head. She was still a little unwell, and she should not be on her own. I got my phone out and dialled her number, but she wouldn't answer, so I messaged her instead.

<Zain: Please tell me where you are. We should talk. I know my behaviour was highly inappropriate, but just contact me. I'm worried about you.>

I had showered and changed, and there was still no reply from her. She was furious with me, and I couldn't blame her for it. 

I'd messed up our amazing relationship, and it fell like it was too late to say sorry. 

****

Tara

My head kept spinning at the thought of Zain speaking to me in such a manner, especially in front of Sana.