9. The Unsettling Presence

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"Because I--I've hurt her a lot."

Clad in a grey shirt tucked neatly into his black trousers, he spoke vehemently.

She saw him swallow his sorrow, his Adam's apple bobbed. She glanced down at his extended arm, which took hold of the bracelet from her. The rolled up sleeve gave a view of the veins protruding beneath the skin of his arm.

"I was never good to her. I was only a terrible husband."

An instant ago, she was sure that his light brown eyes shone, like a little moisture collected around the corner. The tendency to comfort him erupted in her. But he smiled at her. His smile was tender yet the emotions his eyes displayed were full of despair.

She had never been in such a proximity with a man ever. She never got a chance to be around her father. She had one uncle, her mother's brother, but he was always distant, living in another city. But even if she met him, she had no idea how the man exhibited his emotions. Her cousins were males but they were also distant and aloof.

This man standing a few inches away from her, was a complete stranger to her, yet she felt the intensity of the ache that surrounded his heart. It almost seemed similar to hers.

"But you miss her."

She was impulsive again.

"I do."

He chuckled.

More than a year and a half had passed since they spoke, since they were alone in each other's company. After all these months of yearning, this was supposedly the moment to cherish and not to ponder over the past blunders, but he couldn't help it. The remorse of doings of the past loomed swiftly around his senses.

He had never planned to say the words outright and put her in daze. But he needed to have a conversation with her, provide her with some inkling about her missing life, about the memories they once shared. And squandering away this one chance would be so unwise.

"We humans, have it in us, to commit mistakes, or to sin, sometimes unknowingly or sometimes deliberately.

But accepting them, and being guilty of them, is the greatest thing. It's not what everybody can do."

She was only blurting out what her heart gave away, unsure if it was even needed at the moment. It was all because of her unnecessary poking at the subject. If only she had stayed quiet in the first place, he would not be reliving his pain, nor the declaration of him having a wife, would jab through her heart. Either way, she was just going to lock away what she felt for him and would never bother to cross his path again. But yet, the man as he stood open before her like a book, invited her to read through him, and brood up the curiosity inside her to flip through the pages of his paining heart and fathom out the cause for his agony. Only for her to gape at the pain that mirrored hers. Secluded with his solitude; lonely and void.

She only wished to lessen his pain through her words.

She was so engrossed that when the clock in the room struck seven, the cockerel cried. The abrupt and harsh screech resonated loudly, and in a swift she leaped to Yousuf's side. Her heart pounded so loudly.

The loud noises frightened her. The another repercussion of that one fateful incident.

As she held on to the sleeve by his elbow, her fingers brushed the skin of his arm. Her feather like touch burned him there, releasing something that he had trapped so vigorously somewhere around the corner of his beating heart. The longing was vivid and so strong. The need to swipe away the droplet of sweat from her brow was so demanding. Only if he could hold her panicked self in his arms and shush her racing heart, that he could tell her it was all fine and the trepidations hold no strength to sacre her away. That she was so strong. Stronger than he could ever be.

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