Unveiling Meerab [Tere Bin FF]

15. a few steps back

"You've been very quiet since yesterday." Meerab observed, her voice soft but edged with concern. Through the ornate dresser mirror, she watched Murtasim's reflection, catching the way the faint light played on his usually strong, decisive features, revealing an unfamiliar vulnerability. The subtle tug of his lips and the furrow of his brows were a testament to his inner turmoil.

Their room bathed in a soft light, courtesy of the lone lamp that stood sentinel on the bedside table. Shadows cast by its light flickered, dancing on the walls, mimicking Murtasim's restlessness. His fingers drummed a tense rhythm on his knee as he sat on the couch, seemingly lost in his own world.

The heavy curtain of silence between them was punctuated by his intermittent sighs – deep exhales that spoke of the weight on his chest. It felt as if she had been counting them, and by now, he must have sighed about a million times.

He sighed yet again. The deep expulsion of breath seemed to prepare him, gathering his courage.

"I have to tell you something." His voice broke the stillness, laced with an unease she rarely heard from him. Meerab's gaze shifted from the mirror directly to him. Even at that distance, she could see the caution shimmering in his eyes, a hesitant fear that struck a chord of apprehension in her heart.

Slowly, she turned to face him fully, placing her hairbrush down on the dresser. She arched an eyebrow in silent question, urging him to continue.

His eyes never left hers as he beckoned her closer. With a heart growing heavier with every step, Meerab made her way to him, feeling the cool floor beneath her feet with every step. Murtasim guided her gently to the sofa, and she had assumed he would sit beside her. However, in an act that caught her off guard, he sank to his knees before her. His strong arms, arms that had been her refuge many times, now encircled her waist. And then, in a display of raw vulnerability, he buried his face into her stomach, as if seeking a sanctuary.

Tension threaded the air around them. The gravity of the moment settled upon Meerab, and she instinctively placed a comforting hand on the back of his head, her fingers weaving through his hair, awaiting the confession that she knew would tip the balance of their relationship.

His head remained pressed to her, and for a moment, the weight of the silence between them was more oppressive than any spoken words. But she needed to know.

"I don't know much about relationships, but is this the part where men admit they cheated on their wife or something?" The question, whispered almost with a teasing quality, fluttered out of her lips. It was quiet, almost lost in the shuffle of fabric.

Murtasim's response was immediate. Without looking up, he shook his head against her abdomen, the motion firm, almost desperate. "I would never do that to you," he said, voice muffled but thick with emotion. "I wasn't lying when I said it's just you in my life, Meerab. There will never be another."

A small sigh of relief escaped her lips, being reassured of something she already knew. But then, what was it? Why was he so troubled? Meerab's heart raced, fear threading its way into her thoughts as she waited for his confession. "Then?" She asked, her voice a mere whisper, but the uncertainty, the underlying fear, evident.

The room was thick with a tense silence, so palpable that it felt like it could be sliced with a knife.

"Murtasim?" Meerab's voice was a gentle murmur, filled with confusion and laced with worry. She felt the tension in his muscles, the unusual tremor in his frame, as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair. The familiar gesture, one of comfort, seemed inadequate for the gravity of the moment.

Murtasim took a deep breath, each second stretching on, and the tension palpable. He gently disengaged from her embrace, placing his hands on her knees as he looked up, meeting her gaze. His eyes, usually a warm brown, now seemed shadowed.