*Trigger Warning*
All Naira could do was pass a brewing cup of hot chocolate towards Rayan as they sat in the breakroom of their floor, the rest of the building in a rush to finish the next meeting whereas they stayed stagnant in time, more specifically stuck behind the clock. He barely moved, frozen in a state of despair as fragments of his life fell before them, a time he refused to go back to.
She didn't want to force him, but he insisted.
"Rayan-" she tried one last time to divert the situation.
He shook his head. "You should know the folder you read about me hides a lot of details."
"I figured that much."
His eyes were stormy, full of an ache that couldn't be buried beneath a sea. "My family wasn't great growing up, not in the way you might be used to. Love wasn't a thing we spoke about often, and being the oldest meant having all the expectations thrown at you," he said, voice quiet like a midnight wave splashing against sharp rocks.
Naira considered this, about what it was like to be the oldest in the family. Daris was never burdened with expectations by her parents, not more than she was. They were close in age, practically twins growing up, and they did everything together. The only time Daris and her were separated was when she went to Hifz school to memorize the Qur'an, but even then her parents made it a point to always implement the importance of family when she came home every day.
Her father listened to her recitation. Her mother gave her tips. Her brother was her biggest cheerleader. They all played a role in helping her, and that same treatment went to her brother in his own studies, except Naira was his cheerleader.
Rayan's family isn't like that, she thought to herself. They didn't support him.
He threw his head into his hands, fingers grasping his curls in a tight fight. "Maybe," his shoulders shook with the rasp in his voice, "just maybe if that was all they did, I would have been okay. I would have been able to forgive them. But it wasn't."
Fear began to settle within, a ballast forming in her throat that she tried to swallow down, knowing her panic would not help him. She had a dreaded feeling from the heartbreak evident in his voice.
Rayan lifted his head, gaze watery with the years of pain and solitude he kept to himself, clear with resentment and fury. "My father... abused us. He said the word of God on his tongue as he beat his wife and children every night," his lips trembled. Rayan's visage twisted with disgust. "He spoke so highly about religion, about his role as the man of the house, and when the night came he'd... he would..." he trailed off as a choked breath escaped him. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize," she whispered. "Your father abused you?"
He nodded, unable to meet her eyes.
"That wasn't your fault."
"He once beat me till my shirt was covered in blood stains from a nosebleed after being smacked repeatedly. He'd hit me for smiling, for coming home five minutes late, for not covering my bruises so he'd give me new ones," he gave a heartless chuckle. "Every time, I thought it was my fucking fault. I thought I deserved to be hit because I couldn't be the perfect son, because I couldn't protect my mother from the harsh beatings he gave her, because I couldn't find the courage to call the cops and stop him before it was too late."
Wait a minute. The pieces were slowly adding up, and her horror only grew. His mother.
Seeing the realization on her face, he could only stare back with a defeated look in his eyes. "No one wants to admit it in our family, but he killed her."
Naira's hand flew to her mouth to stop the gasp.
His fingers threaded through his hair again. "I heard the yelling like every other night. I figured he'd leave her alone after she was broken in tears and writhing in her own pain, but for some reason... he didn't that night. My siblings were fast asleep, and I woke up to whimpering. My parents were downstairs and my... father was hitting her with something." Rayan's brows furrowed as he tried to remember, voice wavering as he recalled the gruesome details. "I think it was a baseball bat. I'm not sure, but she begged him to stop. I was just a little kid, Naira, barely a teenager."
"It's okay," she soothed. "You were a child, Rayan. You couldn't have stopped him, even though you wanted to. He would have hurt you too, and it sounds like your mother wanted to protect her kids the most."
He squeezed his eyes shut as if in pain from the memory. "She pleaded and made promises in an effort for him to stop, telling him she couldn't take it anymore, but he only mocked her. He called her so many names, so many slurs that I couldn't believe how she ever married a man like him, one that treated her like dirt. And then I only heard silence and him yelling her name, threatening to kill her if she was faking it," he recalled, eyes wide open with flames of indignation. "He took her last breath from her. That was the last straw for me."
"What did you do?"
"I heard him come up the stairs and pretended to be asleep, but I was terrified. If he could kill my mother in a fit of rage, then I could only imagine what he'd do to me. She and I always had it the worst but my siblings he'd be easier on. They were careful with their words and how they acted. I wasn't, and I knew that sick bastard had the power to get away with anything even murder," he growled. "When the faucets started running and he dragged her body to the bathroom, I made a run for it. I didn't know where I was going, but I packed my things into a backpack and left."
"Rayan," she breathed, speechless from the story. "Did he ever get caught? What happened to your siblings?"
"I don't know," he sighed. "I changed my last name to my mother's surname. At the time, I wasn't thinking about anything except getting myself out of there. If I stayed or if he knew that I heard the whole thing, he would have killed me. I had to run away, Naira. I had to escape."
She knew he was fighting back tears. Rayan didn't like showing his weakness to others or his past. It was why he always smiled, flashed a bit of perfection to his fans because he knew what it felt like to be trapped and alone, what it felt like to sit in darkness as he feared the monster that lived with him. That scared little boy that ran away from home sat in front of her as one of the most successful men in the whole world.
An international popstar that broke billboard records.
Yet a part of him was always broken too.
Overcome with emotion, Naira wasn't sure what compelled her to do what she did. He was trying so hard not to cry in front of her, to build an expression made of stone, but he couldn't, not with the trauma he'd endured. She knew what it was like to feel alone, to feel lost without guidance, and she knew her father almost took his life with the gravity of his loneliness.
Naira stood off her chair, walking over to his side, ignoring all the voices in her head that told her to fight off the temptation. Her mind clashed with her heart, a battle ensuing between her morals but her love for this man held her captive.
Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, embracing him when her words melted on her tongue.
A lone tear dripped down his cheeks as he sat still, and her grip tightened.
"It's okay," she murmured in a soft voice. "Let it out, Rayan. You don't need to hide anymore."
"S-Should you be holding me?"
"Just this once."
"Please," he croaked, holding onto her arm. His breath hitched on a sob. "Don't let go."
"I'm here," she told him softly. "And you're safe, Rayan. Shh."
His arms wrapped around her, clutching onto Naira as if his life depended on it and a sob ripped from his chest, body trembling with a freight of emotions. Her heart broke for him just as it did for herself, knowing she broke the boundaries between them. A tether pulled them closer, her lips whispering sweet nothings to him, willing his body to relax to her touch.
Rayan's breath came out in short gasps.
For once, the cold glaciers of winter began to settle, a frosty storm melting onto an empty street where the road was finally clear, where his tears built a path to redemption. He was letting go, unchained to his past and vulnerable to his future. Without a winter storm, there was an ending in sight, a place where he felt safe.
Even if it was only in her arms.
----
Well, that got dark real fast.
Ah, I used to have dreams about my book characters and now I dream about the phospholipid layer like a freaking nerd LOL. Save me.
Oof, right. Just wrote about a very serious moment. Do you think Rayan should open the letter from his family (previous chapter)? I really wanted to juxtapose how different the father figures are for both Rayan and Naira.
Don't forget to vote, comment, and follow!