The Eclipsed Heart

Chapter 10

Meerab found herself restless in the quiet hours of the night, tossing and turning in the bed as the clock mercilessly ticked away, announcing the ungodly hour of 3 am. Though she claimed not to care about Murtasim's whereabouts, an odd sense of anxiety clawed its way into her thoughts. The distant honking of his car hours earlier hinted at Murtasim's departure.

Rolling her eyes in response to his escapades, Meerab half-heartedly attempted to distract herself with a movie. However, as the night deepened, so did her unease. The puzzle of Murtasim's mysterious past loomed over her, and her mind fixated on the unsettling secrecy surrounding him. Maa Begum and Farukh had been tight-lipped, and the cryptic box she discovered in Murtasim's drawer only fueled her curiosity.

The question of infidelity crossed her mind – was he cheating on her? Yet, the logic escaped her. If he truly loved someone else, then why bind himself to a marriage that he seemingly cared so little about? Meerab's thoughts spiraled, echoing the hints of the past her father had dropped. Could it be that Uncle Shahnawaz had manipulated Murtasim into marrying her to relief his guilt over disowning his brother? The puzzle pieces refused to align, leaving Meerab perplexed and frustrated.

Amidst her confusion, one thing was clear – she grappled with the consequences of a tangled web she hadn't known existed just two months ago. The unfairness of it all pierced her heart. Why was she the one bearing the burdens of others' redemption and mistakes? The weight of her circumstances pressed down on her as she lay in bed, resisting the temptation to retreat into the cocoon of ignorance she had blissfully crafted for herself weeks ago.

It became evident that this marriage meant nothing to Murtasim. He made no efforts to conceal his indifference, a realization that stung Meerab deeply. However, vulnerability was a luxury she couldn't afford. In the solitude of her thoughts, Meerab resolved not to reveal her weaknesses to those who could exploit them. The sudden click of the door snapped her back to reality, notifying her that Murtasim had returned.

Closing her eyes, Meerab feigned sleep, choosing to avoid unnecessary interactions and the potential chaos they might bring. The room held its breath, encapsulating the silent struggles and unanswered questions that lingered like shadows in the darkness.

In the silent hours of the night, Meerab's heightened senses picked up the subtle sounds of Murtasim moving about. The creaking floorboards beneath his feet and the muffled sob that escaped him painted a poignant picture of a man unraveling in solitude. A strange mixture of concern and hesitancy tugged at Meerab as she silently observed from a distance.

Curiosity compelled her to investigate, and she found him struggling with the simplest of tasks – removing his shoes. Meerab's steps were cautious, each footfall echoing in the hushed room. As she neared the sofa, an unwelcome scent hit her nostrils, assaulting her senses with its bitter familiarity. The pungent odor of alcohol clung to Murtasim, casting a shadow on the solemn atmosphere.

There he sat on the sofa, eyes closed, the weight of his drunkenness clearly marked his slouched form. Disgust etched itself on Meerab's face, a silent protest against the stench of self-destruction that enveloped him. Turning to leave, a resounding crash echoed through the room, haltering Meerab. Her gaze returned to Murtasim's helpless state.

She hesitated, torn between leaving him to his misery or extending a hand of assistance. As Meerab pondered, her eyes caught the scene of Murtasim, now sprawled on the floor, a casualty of his drunk state. A moment of contemplation lingered, and in the quiet recesses of her heart, humanity triumphed over resentment.

With measured steps, she approached the fallen figure, her gaze momentarily captivated by the disheveled vulnerability that draped him. "Mr. Khan, get up," she urged, her voice a blend of sternness and concern. Murtasim's tearful gaze met hers, his hand reaching out to grasp hers. The unexpected touch sent a shiver down Meerab's spine, a connection forged in the unlikeliest of circumstances.

"I fell down, and it hurts" Murtasim laughed as a sob escaped his lips. "It hurts so much," Murtasim repeated, his voice like a fragile whisper, as if the admission itself added to the ache he felt. The alcohol-laden breath hung in the air, a testament to the self-inflicted wounds that had brought him to this precipice.

In the dim light, Meerab's gaze met Murtasim's, capturing the profound sadness etched across his features. His words, a heart-wrenching soliloquy, unfolded in the quiet room like a mournful melody, each syllable piercing through the heavy silence.

"I—I feel so alone," Murtasim's voice quivered with vulnerability, as if releasing the pent-up emotions that had long been confined. "I am so tired of keeping up the fake façade of being brave, of making everyone happy. But no one seems to care for me, for my feelings. I am just so tired of carrying the weight of expectations, of pretending as if everything is fine."

The raw honesty in his confession hung in the air, resonating with the unspoken struggles that had haunted him. Meerab, her heart caught between sympathy and self-preservation, felt the gravity of his words. His pain, like an invisible shroud, unfolded before her, revealing the fractured soul beneath the mask he wore.

"I—I want everything to be like how it was before," Murtasim's voice trembled with a longing for a past that seemed to slip further away with each passing day. "I was so happy, so carefree, and full of life. But now, it feels like I'm trapped. Trapped in the maze of expectations, regret, loneliness, and heartache. And it just hurts so much."

The vulnerability in his words pulled Meerab into the depths of his sorrow, her own struggles momentarily fading into the background. Murtasim's plea echoed in the room, a desperate yearning for a time when joy was unburdened, and life was uncomplicated.

As the heaviness of his confession lingered, Meerab found herself grappling with conflicting emotions. The walls between them seemed to crumble in the face of shared vulnerability, leaving an unspoken connection that transcended the complexities of their tumultuous relationship.

In the hushed sanctuary of the room, Meerab's hand moved with an instinctual tenderness, brushing against Murtasim's tear-stained face. The touch was an unintended bridge, a connection forged by the unspoken language of shared vulnerability. As she wiped away the traces of his silent struggle, a soft murmur escaped her lips, carried by a current of empathy that neither fully understood nor resisted.

"You don't need to carry this burden by yourself, Murtasim. I'm here for you"  she spoke, her voice a gentle ripple that resonated with the heavy air of confession. The words slipped from her without forethought, an offering of solace to the man whose walls were crumbling under the weight of his own burdens.

In the soft moonlight, Murtasim's hazy eyes met Meerab's, a silent plea lingering in their depths. "You won't leave me, right?" he implored, a touch of desperation coloring his words. Murtasim's hand found hers on his cheek, his grip gentle yet desperate for reassurance. Meerab met his gaze with sincerity, her own turmoil reflected in the depths of her eyes.

"I promise," Meerab vowed, the words carrying a weight that surpassed the confines of their complicated relationship. With a delicate touch, she assisted him in standing up, helping him take off his coat. As Murtasim lay on the bed, closing his eyes, Meerab hovered over him like a guardian angel.

As Meerab tucked the blanket around him, her eyes caught sight of his arm, adorned with cuts that whispered of a darker struggle. As she gently traced his wrist, a pang of sorrow gripped her heart, and with delicate care, she tugged the wounded arm beneath the covers. The scars bore witness to a pain Meerab couldn't fully comprehend, leaving her with a sense of sympathy and curiosity.

As she moved to withdraw, Murtasim's grip on her hand tightened. "Please don't leave me," he pleaded, his words a fragile plea that echoed in the room. Meerab, caught in the intricate dance between empathy and hesitancy, gently attempted to free her hand, but Murtasim's grip held firm. In the hushed stillness, his next words hung in the air, a cruel melody that sank Meerab's heart, as he softly murmured,
"I missed you so much, Mahi,"

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I hope you guys are enjoying reading this as much as i'm while writing it🤞🏻