A Garden Of Hydrangeas

افسرداہ | Upset

"I'm s-sorry Arham I swear I didn't think something so serious would happen." She whimpered, straining her vision in the bright room.

The man in front of her, pacing the length of the room, barking orders at his workers stilled. He stared at her with nothing but a revolting snarl before continuing to place duties at the end of each of his workers. His black waistcoat lay discarded on the seat behind his desk, Arham's hair disheveled and the rolled up sleeves gave a peak at his perfect toned arms, the veins bulging by the minute. It pained him, a great deal more than he would ever admit to see her sob in front of him. To observe her beg for forgiveness for a crime she had committed unknowingly. Try as he might ; the soft words of comfort dissolved on his tongue like cotton candy in water. With an empty hand and a sense of abandonment he stared at her, forced at the hands of their decisions to ignore the pleas.

"Arham please! I wouldn't ever lie to you. I'm your wife — I would - would never want to do something that would bring you harm. Trust me jaanana there has been a misunderstanding!" Her words and eyes plead to him, fighting a case she had already lost.

The heartless were unfair and unfit ; a barter with a short end — loving him.

"—Azhar I'll call you later." He sighed into the phone, rubbing his brows with a tired look, "Filza just stop crying. Go to bed. We'll talk about it in the morning."

The oncoming headache crippled his senses short, his nerves pinched in a painful knot, tugged at from directions — all at the same time. With a repressed sigh, and an unmatched urge to run away from sight, he dropped himself on to the chair. His legs lay limp against the wooden frame, tiredness creeped up his body like parasitic vines, holding him to one place — a single position alone. The axis of his jaw dropped, he had aged years in a single hour. When they were supposed to spend midnight in the lovable passions of each other, people on the opposite end had been on work. Like a bolt and hammer they had struck, every nerve of his. Reactions he had never imagined contorted his face in fury and his nostrils flared.

Victims to a crime greater than ever ; their hearts were the ones to suffer.

"You can't say that Arham! I'm not going to bed until we solve this matter. Whatever it is, since you don't want to tell me what I've done wrong anyways." She sighed.

Her voice broke off at the end, almost snapping at the man in irrevocable fury. How dare he paint her in his liaison of mortal enemies when all she had done was try to help him sort out his affairs!

"You've seen the footage, you clearly handed over they keys to her! Are you seriously that stupid?"

His tone terrorized her, even as he bit his tongue at the end, the anger dissolving in small bouts clearing up his tormented vision. It was the ego that held him back, made him fight the urge — painful one at that, to hug her and soothe her qualms. To kiss the diamond like tears, to lull her to sleep.

"You — how can you talk to me like that? I'm clearly trying to make up for my mistakes. I'm sorry for trusting her, it's just that you hired her before our marriage and of course she knows how to run this place better than I do. When she asked me for the keys I didn't think – think much of it!" She sobbed into her hands, peaking from between her fingers, thinking she had imagined the flicker of greif on his face.

"Have you ever seen me give the house help keys when going out?"

"N-no but mor would give it to them."