Dhaagey: The Ties that Bind Us

29. the truth

A/N: Dhaagey has hit 100K reads, thank to all of you for your support and for loving this fic as you do! 

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The moment Meerab closed the door behind her after Murtasim walked her to her room, she heard the roar. It sounded like a wounded animal, a kind of primal, visceral rage that she had never heard from the man who called himself her father. Murtasim had warned her that her father would create a scene, but the echoing shouts from downstairs stirred a different kind of fear in her heart.

Pushing down the surge of anxiety, she hastily tidied up, her hands shaking as she splashed cool water on her face. Her reflection in the mirror looked pale and worried, a far cry from the blushing bride she had been just hours ago. Pulling herself together, she rushed out of the room, the sound of her father's irate voice growing louder with each step she took down the stairs. As she rounded the corner to the landing, she saw Murtasim waiting for her, his face an unreadable mask. Despite the chaos that unfolded around them, his mere presence grounded her, casting a calming shadow over the fear threatening to overtake her.

His eyes met hers, and he sighed heavily, extending a hand to her. Her heart clenched at the silent understanding in his gaze. Without a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand in his, letting the familiar warmth seep into her skin, and drawing strength from it.

Murtasim pulled her close, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. It was a simple gesture, a quiet reassurance amid the brewing storm, but to Meerab, it meant the world. It chased away some of the anxiety that had taken root in the pit of her stomach, replaced by an unexpected tranquility.

She implicitly trusted Murtasim, trusted in the strength of their bond, and in their ability to weather whatever storm was brewing. Even in the face of her father's explosive anger, her faith in Murtasim did not waver.

"He's just angry, he can't do anything." Murtasim's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. His grip on her hand tightened slightly, a silent promise that he wouldn't let go. She could see the concern etched on his face, mirrored only by the firm resolve in his eyes.

Feeling a warm wave of gratitude wash over her, Meerab gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and pulled her towards the living room.

The space was a cauldron of tension, with Anwar at its heart. He was pacing like a caged tiger, fury radiating off him in waves. He was hurling accusations at Maa Begum, who was reclining on the couch, seemingly unbothered by the heated tirade. She was meticulously inspecting her nails, her nonchalance in stark contrast to the storm around her.

To the side, Armaan and Maryam stood like statues, a blend of discomfort and unease etched on their faces. It was as if the room had been bisected into two halves - one consumed by anger and the other stoically enduring it.

As Meerab and Murtasim entered the room, Anwar's enraged voice bounced off the walls, making her involuntarily flinch. Yet, the moment she recoiled, Murtasim was there. His grip on her hand tightened, anchoring her. He subtly maneuvered her so she was slightly behind him, his body acting as a shield, protecting her from the verbal onslaught.

"How dare you get my daughter married without me?" Anwar's voice thundered through the room, his accusatory eyes locked onto Maa Begum. "I told you I didn't want her married into this house."

The words sliced through the tense silence, hitting Meerab like a physical blow. A surge of emotions flooded her - annoyance, anger, a strange sadness, and a heavy sense of betrayal.

All these years, her father had been a stranger to her, an indifferent spectator to her life. He hadn't shared her joys, hadn't wiped her tears, hadn't even smiled at her with genuine warmth. He hadn't been there for her birthdays, her school recitals, her graduations, and countless other milestones that defined her journey to womanhood.