Murtasim couldn't sleep. He laid in bed, the weight of guilt pressing heavily on his chest. The room felt suffocating, and it seemed like the tenth time he tossed and turned, with elusive sleep escaping his tired eyes. And this was mainly because of two reasons that lingered in his mind, refusing to grant him the peace he desperately sought. The first was the regrettable outburst he had unleashed on Meerab, the woman he had promised to protect and held responsibility towards. The second was the fact that she was still somewhere in the garden at almost midnight.
As Murtasim tried to gaslight himself into believing he was justified in his actions, the pang of guilt gnawed at him. The memory of Meerab's teary eyes intensified the remorse he felt. He had failed Anwar Chacha's trust, breaking the promise to look after Meerab with care.
Unable to ignore the turmoil within, Murtasim threw the blanket off and sat on the edge of the bed. Running his hands through his hair, he contemplated his own behavior by attempting to see the situation through Meerab's eyes. The realization hit hard—wow, he had truly been a asshole. Meerab had expressed her boredom, and he had never taken her anywhere, except from that one ice cream ride. Her request to him to take her photographs back at the school had been met with indifference, as he handed the task to Bakhtu instead.
"Does she think she holds no value or position in my life?" Murtasim pondered, recalling Meerab's outburst. But that wasn't true. The reason why he couldn't take her out somewhere to ease her boredom was because he had been so busy. And the only reason why he hadn't taken her pictures was not because she lacked importance in his life but due to his own awkwardness and maybe, God knows why but, a hint of shyness as well.
The frustration deepened as he thought about how he had reacted after the Malik Zubair incident. "That asshole ruined everything," Murtasim muttered under his breath, but he knew the real culprit was, in fact, staring back at him in the mirror.
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The light breeze of the night sky provided a welcome respite for Meerab's racing mind. She sat in the garden, the cool air offering a semblance of peace amid the turmoil within. Murtasim's unexpected reaction had left her bewildered and, for the first time, questioning his character. The term that floated to the forefront of her thoughts seemed harsh but fitting—an asshole. Yeah that was the perfect word to describe him right now.
"The least he could have done was ask about my well-being," Meerab mused, her frustration evident in her silent monologue. She felt dismissed, lectured like a child when all she needed was a simple acknowledgment of her presence and an inquiry about her wellbeing. The fact that she had been out in the garden for hours, and that jerk hadn't even bothered to check on her, fueling her growing irritation. She felt stupid to think that their relationship was getting better with time.
Seated on the damp grass, Meerab attempted to regain composure through deep breaths. She mulled over the situation, practicing breathing exercises to calm her racing heart. Yet, as the night grew chillier, the reality of the late hour and the dropping temperature could not be ignored.
"I'll go and sleep in the other room instead. He should know that I'm not a child to be taking this lightly," Meerab decided, her determination firm. She closed her eyes for a moment, preparing herself to stand and leave the uncomfortable solitude of the garden.
However, before she could act on her decision, Meerab felt a comforting weight shroud her shoulders. The unexpected warmth made her pause, her eyes flickering open. The night seemed to hold a moment of quiet understanding, the cool breeze no longer as biting with this newfound presence.
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Murtasim observed Meerab from the window, her figure silhouetted against the night sky. The chilly breeze and damp grass made her shiver faintly, a detail that didn't escape his notice. Acting on an impulse, he grabbed a throw from the lounge before stepping out to join her.
Approaching Meerab, he found her in a peculiar yoga-like position, engaged in breathing exercises. Despite the lingering tension, a faint smile played on Murtasim's lips as he opened the throw and gently draped it over her shoulders. "Why are you sitting on the grass?" he inquired, his voice softened, a stark contrast to the earlier harshness.
"Why? Do you want me to go away from here as well?" Meerab retorted, the bitterness in her tone revealing the lingering resentment from their earlier argument.
"No, you could have sat on the bench or the garden chairs. Then why here?" Murtasim questioned as he settled beside her. Meerab didn't spare him a glance, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon.
"Well, I don't want your favors, Mr. Khan. Those benches, chairs, the house—they're all yours. The grass is an element of nature, so I'm better off here," Meerab replied grumpily, her words laced with a touch of rebellion.
Murtasim smiled, appreciating her stubborn spirit. "Well, in that case, you're wrong, Miss Meerab. I paid extra for this grass, so technically, it's mine too," he teased, attempting to inject a hint of humor into the situation.
What a cocky bastard!
"Well then, I think I'll leave here as well since my presence annoys you so much," Meerab declared, a hint of defiance in her voice, as she made a move to get up. However, before she could turn to leave, Murtasim gently grasped her hand, halting her escape.
"I'm sorry, Meerab," he uttered, his tone carrying a sincerity that echoed through the quiet night. His eyes met hers, revealing a genuine remorse that seemed to cut through the lingering tension.
Murtasim took a deep breath, the weight of his apology lingering in the air. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I let my frustration cloud my judgment, and I hurt you. I'm truly sorry."
Meerab looked at him, assessing the sincerity in his eyes. The vulnerability in his apology tugged at something within her, and she felt a conflict between her lingering upset and the light fluttering of her heart.
"And I didn't react like that only because of Mahi. I was genuinely worried about you. The idea of you accidentally entering the Malik's land or Zubair getting hold of you really frightened me," Murtasim confessed, breaking eye contact and still holding Meerab's hand, a gesture he seemed unaware of.
"Why?" Meerab inquired, her voice almost like a whisper as her gaze fixed on him while she settled back onto the grass.
"Meerab, I... there's a potential chance that the accident in which Mahi passed away wasn't just an accident. I believe that Malik Zubair was involved in it," Murtasim revealed, meeting her eyes with a mixture of intensity and vulnerability.
Meerab's eyes widened in shock. "What? How can you be so sure?"
"Months after that accident, I got a tip from a random number," Murtasim began, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and concern. "The message suggested that Zubair had a hand in it, that it wasn't a mere accident. But I didn't have enough evidence to prove anything. The driver of the truck also died, so I couldn't gather any additional information."
The weight of those months hung heavily in the air as Murtasim recounted the unsettling revelation. He continued, his gaze distant as he relived the moments of uncertainty and fear.
"I tried to trace the number, Meerab, but it was a dead end. The message claimed that Zubair orchestrated Mahi's accident, perhaps as a means to get back at my family. I couldn't just dismiss it, but without concrete evidence, I was left in the dark, grappling with the uncertainty of it all."
Meerab listened in silence, the gravity of the situation sinking in. The mere idea that Mahi's accident might not have been a tragic twist of fate but a deliberate act of malice shook her to the core. Her mind raced with questions, suspicions, and an unsettling realization of the dangerous undercurrents that flowed between the Khan and Malik families.
"I kept digging, Meerab. I tried to find any piece of information that could connect Zubair to Mahi's accident, but it was like chasing shadows. I know for a fact that he wanted me died but Mahi had to pay the price for that. It's been years and I'm still trying to find something that could prove that but—" Murtasim continued, a note of frustration threading through his words. "And then, tonight, with you out in the fields, I couldn't shake the fear that history might repeat itself."
Meerab met Murtasim's searching gaze, and in that moment, the vulnerability in his eyes resonated with her. The weight of his words hung in the air, a confession that peeled back the layers of his fears and regrets.
"I've lost Mahi because of my family's enmity, and I couldn't bear anything like that with you as well. And that fear, Meerab, that's what fueled my reaction. I know it's not justifiable, but I hope you can understand. I'm really sorry," Murtasim confessed, the sincerity in his voice echoing through the quiet night.
A mixture of emotions played on Meerab's face—compassion, understanding, and a shared acknowledgment of the complexities that bound their lives together. "It's okay, Mr. Khan. I really didn't realize how I got there. I should have been more mindful as well."
"It's not your fault, Meerab. I shouldn't have been such an—" Murtasim stopped trying to find a fitting word.
"—asshole?" Meerab completed, breaking into a playful smile.
"Yeah, an asshole," Murtasim agreed with a small smile. After a moment of silence, he spoke up, "Well, if all of this is sorted? Can you please go back inside. It's really cold out." Murtasim got up but Meerab had other plans.
"Waise, I don't think I should forgive you so easily," Meerab said, mischief dancing in her eyes.
"What do you mean?" Murtasim asked, looking genuinely confused.
"Well, you have to do sit-ups while holding your ears for me to grant your forgiveness," Meerab declared with a playful grin.
"What? What am I, 5 years old? Why would I do sit-ups?" Murtasim protested, a mock scowl on his face.
"Does that hurt your fragile ego, Mr. Khan? Sit-ups or else I'm not gonna go inside," Meerab teased, the mischievous glint in her eyes adding a touch of charm.
Murtasim resisted, pretending to be offended. "Meerab," he warned, though his mock frown couldn't hid the embarrassment in his eyes.
"Let's start with just one," Meerab insisted, her playful determination unwavering.
Murtasim sighed dramatically, feigning reluctance. "Fine, just one," he agreed, playing along.
Meerab grinned triumphantly as Murtasim reluctantly assumed the sit-up position on the grass. The moonlight bathed the impromptu scene, turning it into a shared moment of laughter and affection.
"One and don't hold onto your ears as well Mr.Khan," Meerab counted with faux seriousness.
Murtasim groaned, "Ya Khudaya, this is ridiculous," as he started the sit-ups while holding his ears. His expression oscillated between amusement and reluctance as his ears and face reddened with embarrassment.
Meerab chuckled, encouraging him, "Come on, Mr. Khan, you can do it!"
As Murtasim reached a count that Meerab deemed sufficient, which finally ended up being ten, she playfully patted his shoulder. "See? Not so bad, was it?"
Murtasim sighed, the tension of the evening dissipating in the lighthearted exchange. "Does this mean I'm officially forgiven?"
Meerab nodded, her eyes sparkling. "Consider yourself forgiven," she continued before clearing her throat, a touch of seriousness entering her tone, "but on a serious note, don't you ever shout at me like that again. You could have told me all of this before instead of just raging around."
Murtasim's eyes softened with understanding and remorse."You're right. I should have talked to you calmly. I promise I'll try to do better, and I'll try to communicate openly from now on."
"So, no more secrets?" Meerab put forth her hand, her pinky finger out as a sign of promise.
"No more secrets," Murtasim hesitantly but willingly raised his finger, intertwining it with Meerab's. Meerab smiled widely, sealing the pact as she said, "Or else I'll come up with more creative punishments next time," making the two of them break into a laugh.
As they stood there, fingers entwined, the moonlit night seemed to embrace their shared commitment. The warmth of their joined pinky fingers held the promise of transparency and trust, a silent agreement to navigate the complexities of their lives together where neither of them knew how close they were drawing towards one another without even realizing it.
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Ya'll shouldn't hate on Murtasim this much!!! He might be an asshole sometimes but at least he tries to make himself better🥺
Happy One Year to Tere Bin🤍
Lets hope tomorrow's announcement brings us nothing but joy and positive news🤞🏻