Too fragile for the beast

Chapter 37

A small pang of disappointment fluttered in her chest. She didn't know why she had expected to see him there, still beside her, but she had.

Just then, the sound of the closet door opening made her glance up.

And there he was.

Arsh stepped out, fully dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that framed his broad shoulders and powerful build. His shirt was crisp white, the top button undone, and the dark tie hung neatly in place. His hair was styled with effortless precision, slightly tousled yet sharp enough to look intentional, and the faint stubble along his jaw made him look devastatingly handsome.

Their eyes met and held—an unspoken stillness blooming between them. She was still sitting on the bed, unable to pull her gaze away.

He walked toward her, measured steps closing the distance until he stopped just a foot away. There was something different about him today. His face seemed lighter, his gaze softer, and there was a hidden smile tugging faintly at the corners of his lips—as if he carried a secret happiness he couldn't quite hide.

"I've had my breakfast," he said in his deep, steady voice. "Freshen up and eat without any delay. I'm leaving now... and will be back in the evening."

He paused. His eyes lingered on her cheek, and she caught it—just for a second—the shadow of regret clouding his vision.

Shafiyya stood, instinctively pulling her dupatta over her head.

Then, without warning, he closed the last gap between them. Her heart thudded painfully in her ribcage, each beat echoing in her ears.

His hands came up, cupping her face with a gentleness that didn't match the image she had of him—his palms warm against her skin, his thumbs brushing faintly along her cheeks as if they were something delicate and breakable.

Looking straight into her eyes, he spoke in a low voice, each word heavy with sincerity.

"I... am sorry," he said, the pause carrying more meaning than the words themselves. "I will not hurt you again. I promise you. And... don't leave anywhere without informing me."

She nodded, slow and hesitant, her eyes searching his.

He leaned closer, and now his breath fanned over her lips, hot and unsteady. Her eyes widened as she realized his gaze had dropped—he was looking at her mouth.

Time seemed to stop.

But instead of claiming her lips, his own shifted upward, pressing firmly yet tenderly against her forehead.

The warmth of that touch lingered, sinking into her skin, leaving her strangely breathless. She had expected something else... and maybe feared it. But this—this was different. It felt like a silent vow.

When he stepped back, she could still feel the ghost of his lips on her skin.

With one last look—soft, lingering, almost reluctant—Arsh turned and left the room, leaving her standing there with her heartbeat still racing.

After Arsh left, Shafiyya freshened up and changed into a light, comfortable dress. She ate her breakfast quietly, then joined Inaya in the kitchen to help prepare lunch. The warmth of the kitchen, the sound of chopping vegetables, and the faint aroma of spices distracted her from the lingering flutter in her chest after Arsh's morning words.

By the time she returned to her room, it was already 11 a.m. She placed her dupatta neatly on the chair and sat on the bed, recalling that Zahra had called her yesterday. Without overthinking, she dialed her back.

The call connected almost instantly.

"Bhabi! Are you okay? I am so, so sorry. It's all my fault. Did Bhai scold you? I swear, I didn't expect things to end like that. I'm really, really sorry, Bhabi—"