The journey back home was accompanied by the comforting hum of the car engine, the raindrops now reduced to a gentle mist on the windshield. As Murtasim navigated through the familiar streets of Karachi, the city lights reflected on the wet roads, creating a serene ambiance. The tension that had lingered earlier had dissipated, replaced by a quiet understanding between Murtasim and Meerab.
By the time they reached their house, the rain had ceased, leaving a fresh, earthy scent in the air. Murtasim parked the car, and they stepped out into the quiet night. The wet pavement glistened under the glow of the streetlights. As they entered their house, Meerab took off the coat she was wearing, Murtasim's coat and the sudden chills hit her. She moved to the room Murtasim had told her about as he went out to bring their bags.
Meerab, still feeling the chill from the rain, started off which opening her hair that were an absolute mess due to the rain. She then attempted to take off her jewelry, exhaustion finally taken over her. However, to her surprise and dismay, the necklace seemed entangled with the zipper of her saree blouse. She tried to free it herself, her fingers fumbling with the delicate jewelry, but her efforts were in vain. Panic started to set in as she realized there was no one around except Murtasim.
The thought of asking him for help crossed her mind, but she hesitated, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She attempted once more, desperately trying to separate the necklace from the stubborn zipper, but it remained stubbornly entwined.
Just then, Murtasim appeared with their bags in his hands, his gaze meeting Meerab's reflection in the mirror. As he moved to leave, Meerab just turned towards him, her gaze dropping on the floor as she asked, "Mr. Khan, could you...... please help me with this?" her voice a soft plea.
Murtasim contemplated for a moment, a weird sort of tension hanging between them as he stared at Meerab. Her hair had been tousled with a slight dampness because of the rain and the intricate folds of her saree clung to her form, while her hands struggled to unclasp a necklace that adorned her neck. Hesitantly, Murtasim walked towards Meerab as he closed the distance between them.
Murtasim gently brushed Meerab's hair to the side, his fingers touching her nape. A subtle shiver ran through Meerab as she inhaled deeply. She could feel Murtasim's fingers trembled slightly as he delicately attempted to untangle the necklace from the zipper. Meerab watched him through the mirror, her eyes reflecting a mix of uncertainty and vulnerability. She saw him gulp lightly as he tried to untangle the necklace.
However, the delicate jewelry, a delicate chain seemed almost stubborn, weaving itself further into the intricate details of Meerab's blouse's zipper. Murtasim's shaky fingers started with a gentle touch, attempting to untangle the necklace from the zipper. However, frustration crept into Murtasim's expression as the small chain refuse to budge. His brows furrowed with a mix of concentration and annoyance as he delicately attempted to coax the stubborn necklace free.
As he applied a bit more force, the tension in the air heightened. The necklace seemed to resist, as if entangled in a silent protest against being freed. Suddenly, with an unexpected snap, the blouse zipper gave way, as it snapped opened. The release was so sudden and unexpected that it caught both Murtasim and Meerab off guard.
Murtasim's eyes widened in shock, the surprise reflecting in the depth of his gaze. His fingers, once entwined with the necklace, instantly let go, creating a soft rustle of fabric. His heart throbbing against his chest rapidly as he looked away.
Meerab gasped, her fingers moving swiftly to secure the partially opened zipper. The room fell into a sudden silence, the air heavy with the realization of the moment. The necklace, now free, dangled delicately around Meerab's neck, a silent witness to the intimate struggle it had just been a part of.
A moment of awkward stillness enveloped them, the echo of the unexpected mishap lingering. Meerab's heart pounded in her chest and her cheeks colored in a bright crimson color, not just from the initial panic but also from the sudden proximity and the shared vulnerability of that moment.
Murtasim, regaining his composure, stammered, "I—I'm sorry", his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Meerab's heart flipping with nervousness as she murmured a soft, "It's okay."
Feeling the weight of the situation, Murtasim excused himself abruptly, leaving Meerab alone in the hallway. The echo of the unexpected mishap reverberated in the silence of the house. Meerab took a deep breath, a mix of amusement and embarrassment dancing in her eyes as she replayed the scene.
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Meerab had changed into dry clothes, and had swung the opened the bedroom door to find Murtasim standing there with two mugs in hand. The air between them felt slightly awkward, and both avoided direct eye contact. Attempting to ease the tension, Meerab spoke first.
"Umm—what's this?" she asked, gesturing to the mugs.
Murtasim met her gaze, as he articulated words. "Well, we were both drenched in the rain, and you seemed a bit chilly, so I thought I'd make something warm for us to drink."
He handed one mug to Meerab, who looked pleasantly surprised. "I'm sorry, I don't really know how to make hot chocolate, but I Googled it, and..." Murtasim's voice trailed off, the unspoken apology lingering in the air.
Meerab's eyes softened as she took a sip from the mug, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "It's perfect," she said, her gratitude evident in her voice.
As they stood in the cozy living room, cradling their warm drinks, a tranquil hush settled around them. Maybe it had started to pour once again because the raindrops outside orchestrated a gentle melody, creating a backdrop of serenity that transformed the atmosphere into a haven of relaxation and familiarity.
Breaking the quietude, Murtasim, with a hesitant yet sincere tone, spoke to Meerab. "Meerab, umm, you don't need to sleep on the sofa tonight. I'll go and sleep somewhere else if you want," he offered, seeking to alleviate any discomfort.
Meerab looked at Murtasim through the mirror, her eyes softening. "No, Mr. Khan, it's alright. The sofa is comfortable, really. You don't have to inconvenience yourself," she insisted, attempting to dismiss his concern.
Murtasim, however, remained firm in his offer. "No, Meerab. Your comfort matters to me, and it's the least I can do after everything," he said softly, the last part of the sentence was in a slight whisper but Meerab had heard it. His sincerity spread a feeling of warm within Meerab's heart.
Meerab, nodding as she looked away from him. Murtasim, determined to find an alternative place to sleep, ventured into the other rooms. However, to his surprise, each door stubbornly resisted his attempts to open them. Puzzled, he wondered about the locked doors, finding it odd given that there were no one else in the house. He thought about calling the house help but it had already been late enough so with a shrug, he resigned himself to the sofa in the living room for the night.
The living room, now bathed in a soft, ambient glow, embraced Murtasim in its comforting aura. Meanwhile, Meerab had been tossing around on the bed as sleep was nowhere to be found. She got up and opened the door of the room to cautiously peered out. She was surprised to find Murtasim sleeping on the sofa, his figure outlined by the gentle glow of a nearby lamp.
Torn between waking him and letting him sleep peacefully, Meerab chose the latter. Observing him in repose, she noticed the serene expression that graced Murtasim's face. His features, relaxed in slumber, revealed a subtle furrowing of his brows—a habitual nuance she had observed before. As the lamplight kissed his features, Meerab couldn't help but marvel at the quiet beauty that sleep bestowed upon him.
As Meerab contemplated the man before her, a wave of introspection swept over her. Questions, unbidden and insistent, stirred in her mind. Why was she still here? Murtasim couldn't promise the love she craved, and yet she stayed, grappling with emotions that defied the boundaries of logic and reason. The marriage, once bound by duties and traditions, now felt like a fragile tapestry of emotions that were drowning her. She should just leave for London, to the life she had meticulously planned for herself before the intricacies of marriage intervened.
This union was loveless, a stark reality that should have encouraged her towards a decisive departure. Meerab had tried, invested effort into a relationship that remained futile. The solution seemed clear – a clean break from the entanglements of a marriage devoid of love. Yet, even as she toyed with the idea, she felt like tearing away a piece of her own being.
Why did hope persist in the face of stark truths? Murtasim had voiced his feelings unequivocally, laying bare the reality of their relationship. Yet, the notion of separation proved to be impossible for Meerab. The struggle within her, the unrelenting grasp of emotions that defied rationality, begged the question: why was it so hard to let go? The echoes of his words lingered in her mind, and the uncharted territory of emotions left Meerab conflicted, unsure whether to take the plunge into the unknown or cling to the fragile threads of what remained.
Yet, despite the undeniable truth Murtasim had laid bare, Meerab found herself once again gazing at him. The way his fingers, lingering on her waist, held a tenderness that ignited a storm of emotions within her. His touch resonated in her heart, a poignant contrast to the stark reality of their conversation. His eyes, like a silent language, spoke volumes that contradicted the words he had voiced out before.
As Meerab ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her touch, an unexpected surge of affection welled up within her. His cheek, warm beneath her gentle caress, seemed to beckon her to hold on. Despite the rational part of her mind screaming for detachment, Meerab's heart pounded with an unspoken "I love you" that she couldn't bring herself to voice aloud.
Unable to resist the urge to make him more comfortable, she retrieved a blanket from their room. Gently unfurling it, she draped it over Murtasim, her eyes lingering on his peaceful form as she sat on the table. The night held a delicate balance, and Meerab found solace in the simple act of watching him sleep. The conflicting emotions that had plagued her earlier now ebbed away, replaced by a bittersweet calm.
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Murtasim awoke to the gentle caress of sunlight on his face, its warm tendrils sneaking through the gaps from the curtains. The cozy embrace of a blanket cocooned him, however he didn't remembered sleeping with it last night. As he shifted, memories of the previous evening flooded his mind like a cinematic montage – his own inexplainable reactions to Shahmeer and Meerab's conversations and the corn incident that seemed to defy all logic.
Confusion hung in the air, wrapping itself around Murtasim like a fog. The more he tried to distance himself from Meerab, the more they seemed to intertwine in unexpected ways. It was a perplexing dance, one he couldn't quite figure out. His mind replayed last night scenes, from the trivial to the tantalizing, and a sudden flush painted his cheeks when he revisited the zipper encounter.
The echo of the zipper's soft opening resonated in his mind, accompanied by Meerab's barely audible hitched breath. The room held a charged atmosphere, a delicate tension that hung between them like a fragile thread. Murtasim couldn't shake off the image of Meerab's flushed cheeks, a captivating hue that betrayed a mix of surprise and embarrassment. The way her hand instinctively shot forward, fingers gripping the zipper as if trying to anchor it in place before it could slip any further and —
"WAIT! NO! WHY AM I EVEN THINKING ABOUT THAT?" Murtasim mentally scolded himself, holding his hand in both his hands and shaking it vigorously, as if trying to dispel the lingering thought. This constant game of push and pull promised only more complexities between him and Meerab. Determined, Murtasim took a deep breath, resolving to untangle the knots before they tightened further. The mantra of maintaining distance and setting clear boundaries echoing in his mind once again.
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As they both sat at the breakfast table, the morning light filtering through the curtains, Meerab hesitated for a moment before gathering the courage to speak. "Mr. Khan, can we go out somewhere today if you're free?"
Murtasim, his mind still wrestling with the internal conflict, looked up from his plate, meeting Meerab's hopeful gaze. He considered her request, the weight of his busy schedule pressing on his decision. "I...," he began, pausing to choose his words carefully. "I have a packed day ahead, Meerab. Meetings and commitments that I can't avoid."
Meerab's expression fell, a flicker of disappointment clouding her features. Murtasim, observing the change in her demeanor, felt a tug at his conscience. A part of him wanted to cancel everything, to heed the unspoken plea in her eyes. But the mantra of distance echoed in his mind, reinforcing the boundaries he had consciously set.
"I'm sorry," he added, his voice carrying a tinge of regret. "Perhaps another time?"
Meerab hummed in acknowledgment as Murtasim excused himself from the table, leaving the room with a trace of conflict in his eyes. The heaviness of his decision lingered in the air, creating an unspoken tension that both of them felt keenly.
As he walked away, Murtasim couldn't shake the internal turmoil that accompanied his every step. A part of him felt the pull to return, to erase the disappointment that clouded Meerab's eyes. Yet, he knew that giving in to that impulse would mean going back to the treacherous path of leading her on, a path that would lead to further heartbreaks. He hesitated at the threshold, torn between the desire to comfort her and the need to maintain the distance that, in his mind, safeguarded them both from deeper entanglements.
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Three hours had passed since Murtasim had declined Meerab's simple request to go out. Yet, his mind refused to focus on the mountain of work in front of him. It incessantly circled back to Meerab, to the disappointment he had seen in her eyes, and to the echo of her unfulfilled request. The constant tug between his responsibilities as a husband and the self-imposed boundaries left Murtasim feeling like a ship caught in a relentless storm.
As the minutes ticked away, the conflict within him intensified. The files and reports on his desk became a mere blur, overshadowed by the haunting image of Meerab's crestfallen expression. What harm could a simple outing have caused? The realization hit him, a pang of guilt settling in the pit of his heart. She was his wife, and it was his duty to take care of her, to fulfill her wishes. Yet, each time, his commitment to maintaining distance seemed to outweigh his responsibilities.
A constant tug of war ensued in Murtasim's heart and mind. He clenched his fists, inhaling deeply in an attempt to ground himself. The struggle between duty and self-preservation was etched on his face as he abruptly stood up and excused himself from the ongoing meeting. The board members exchanged puzzled glances as Murtasim hastily made his exit, the urgency in his stride betraying the turmoil within.
The journey back home felt like an eternity. Each passing moment seemed to magnify the conflict raging within him. However, as he reached home, the walls of the empty house echoed with Meerab's unspoken disappointment. He scanned the rooms, calling out her name, but there was no response. Confusion etched his face as he stood in the midst of the silence that now enveloped the once-familiar space.
Unable to contain the growing concern, Murtasim fished his phone from his pocket. The seconds dragged on as he dialed Meerab's number. The rhythmic ringing echoed through the room, each tone increasing the tension that gripped him. Just as he was about to cut the call, Meerab's voice answered on the other end, a hint of surprise in her tone.
"Mr. Khan?" she said, her voice carrying a mixture of emotions.
"Meerab, where are you?" Murtasim questioned, a note of urgency and worry lacing his words.
"Oh, I just—" Meerab's voice was abruptly cut off by another voice that Murtasim recognized immediately. "Come on, Meerab, there are still so many places we need to go to," Shahmeer's voice interjected, sending a ripple of annoyance through Murtasim.
"Are you with Shahmeer?" Murtasim asked, irritation evident in his voice.
"Yeah. When you left, I was bored, and Shahmeer called, asking me to go out with him. So, yeah. Anyhow, I need to go now. Bye," Meerab hastily cut the call before Murtasim could respond, leaving him with a mix of frustration and confusion. And to say that Khan Murtasim Khan was annoyed would be an understatement.
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You guyssss!!! I know how ya'll find murtasim to be annoying and stupid but i'm team murtasim💀 I know he's dumb but he's just confused so cut him a few slacks if you can.
Next chapter is filled with chaos and another interesting scene👀