The Eclipsed Heart

Chapter 49

Meerab had been avoiding him, and the persistent distance between them was beginning to wear on Murtasim's patience. For the past week, he had trying to initiate conversations with her, hoping to bridge the gap between them, yet Meerab seemed determined to keep her distance. Sending Anwar Chacha away for two weeks was supposed to create a conducive environment for Murtasim to execute his plans, but Meerab's avoidance added to the complexity of it.

At the orphanage, Meerab was constantly engrossed with the children, leaving Murtasim with limited opportunities to engage with her. Even when he sought her out in her office for routine matters, she was conspicuously absent. The elusive nature of their interactions at work mirrored their evenings at home. After returning from the orphanage, Meerab would silently retreat to her room, bypassing any attempt at shared dinners.

Murtasim's urge to just burst open her bedroom door and speak his heart out seemed a bit too forced yet just she wasn't ready to talk. The wide gap between them seemed to be growing constantly. Meerab's unexpected reaction at the wonderland also made no sense. It was as if they were happy one minute and Boom something snapped and that beautiful dream broke away.

Which is why Murtasim's frustration had started to grow and he didn't know what was the reason behind it. It might be the lingered tension between them in the air, a moment that seemed to emerge from the months of unresolved sexual tension or perhaps from the immense love he felt for her. Each passing day without a genuine conversation intensified Murtasim's longing to break the silence and lay bare the emotions that simmered beneath the surface. Yet, Meerab remained unresponsive, an impenetrable fortress that left Murtasim grappling with his own internal turmoil.

As Murtasim wrestled with the tumult of emotions within, he sensed that shattering the silence demanded a nuanced approach. It wasn't merely about confessing his feelings; it was about the intricate task of mending the fractures that had formed between them. A revelation dawned upon him—an epiphany that sparked a hopeful glint in his eyes.

With newfound determination, Murtasim decided to embark on a journey to not only express his sentiments but to bridge the emotional chasm that had grown wider each day. A playful smile adorned his face as he ventured into the kitchen, to replicate the art of crafting the perfect remedy for craving as Meerab had taught him once—brownies.

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Meerab had been unable to ignore the clattering and clanging resonating from the kitchen below. The rhythmic whirring of the beater added an element of suspense to the otherwise routine day. Murtasim was down there, doing God knows what. She had diligently prepared the day's meals early in the morning, a routine she had adopted for the past week to avoid any unnecessary encounters with Murtasim. However, today's kitchen cacophonies felt anything but normal.

The idea of Murtasim attempting a culinary escapade concerned Meerab. While she had been managing the meals he heated and ate, the uproar downstairs suggested a deviation from the usual routine. At first, she contemplated ignoring it, attributing the sounds to Murtasim's unfamiliarity with the kitchen. However, as the clatter grew louder and more chaotic, a twinge of worry settled in.

Fearing the possibility of Murtasim causing chaos in the kitchen or, worse, setting the house on fire, Meerab decided to finally investigate. She tiptoed down the stairs, her steps cautious, and approached the kitchen door. The sight that greeted her was beyond anything she had anticipated.

Murtasim stood there, completely engrossed in his culinary endeavor, with his phone in hand. Flour dusted the air like a whimsical snowfall, settling on every surface, and an array of baking utensils and ingredients sprawled across the countertop. His apron, haphazardly tied over his grey hoodie set, bore the battle scars of chocolate stains—trophies from an enthusiastic encounter with a mischievous beater that had clearly outsmarted him. His hair, always neatly combed, now stood in rebellious disarray, a testament to the intensity of his baking pursuit.