Unveiling Meerab [Tere Bin FF]

1. confrontation

A/N: In an ideal world, the rising action of the Rohail/Karachi track should have culminated in a climax in that rooftop scene, where to any storyteller, the logical next step was a confrontation that brought to light Meerab's turmoil after her prolonged silence,  and highlighted the fragile nature of Meerab x Murtasim's relationship - after which they would either crumble or learn to love. It didn't happen in the show, and I couldn't stop myself from writing it here! Please note that this story IS NOT related to the "Mohabbat Nahi, Ishq" universe, but is a different take on Tere Bin.

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The aroma of the food she had lovingly prepared filled the air, the dishes sitting untouched on the dining table behind them. Murtasim's grip on her hand was firm as he pulled her up the stairs, his urgency palpable. But Meerab had reached her breaking point. She couldn't bear his assumptions and insinuations any longer, the accusations that she had something going on with Rohail. Pushing him away, her frustration spilled over, fueled by a mix of emotions and confusion that had been building up over the past few months.

His eyes blazed with anger, and in that moment, he resembled the man she had never wanted to marry, the Murtasim Khan who embodied control and possessiveness. The one she didn't understand because her life had been so different from his, even when her baba tried to explain to her that his life centered around respect and honour, implying that his possessive reaction was warranted, that him controlling his anger meant that she meant more to him that his life and respect, she didn't quite understand how to reconcile the Murtasim Khan with Murtasim.

To her they differed, the Murtasim she was slowly falling for, the one who looked at her like she held the universe within her, who cared for her with unwavering devotion, the one who shielded her from the world's harshness was not the same as the Murtasim Khan. Because her heart didn't recognize him when his softer side gave way to a man who doubted her, and who refused to listen.

Her own anger flared, the culmination of months of conflicting emotions and her bewildering connection to the man standing before her, her husband. She oscillated between convincing herself that she shouldn't care for him and spending entire days cooking for him because she despised the idea of him being angry with her. His anger physically hurt her, and made her feel like it was something that she needed to urgently fix. It was a maddening paradox that left her constantly wrestling with her feelings.

Remembering the sight of tears that had welled up in his eyes had only intensified her inner turmoil. She hated that she was the cause of his pain, his pain pierced her heart like a thousand needles. The memory of that fateful moment when she thought he had taken his own life, the brief gap between the gunshot and the relief of feeling his breath against her skin as she cradled his face, haunted her like an eternity compressed into a few seconds. Her feet had moved by themselves, his name had left her mouth in screams, and her whole world had felt like it had stilled when she saw his hand hanging limp at his side, a gun in hand.

The only thing that had gone in her mind in that moment was no, not him, not Murtasim. But when he had spoken, the tears that had filled her eyes were no longer just for the thought of him dying, but the words he had uttered. Did you think of Rohail dying? He had thought the worst of her even in that moment as her heart raced and her whole being screamed for his wellbeing.

They all believed it. They all believed the worst of her, the father that had abandoned her at birth, the parents who had raised her as their own for years before abandoning her, and the man that was her husband too believed that the reason she had come to Karachi was because she wanted to see a man she hadn't even thought of meeting. They all believed that Rohail was something more than a friend, that she had no right to see anyone outside of those they approved of.